{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_18444/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_18444","id":"gutenberg_18444","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18444","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Music","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity","Hymns -- History and criticism","Religious poetry"],"text":"E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, David Wilson, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)\n\n\n\nNote: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n file which includes the original illustrations.\n See 18444-h.htm or 18444-h.zip:\n (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/4/4/18444/18444-h/18444-h.htm)\n or\n (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/4/4/18444/18444-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE HYMNS AND TUNES\n\nby\n\nTHERON BROWN and HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n _Multae terricolis linguae, coelestibus una._\n\n _Ten thousand, thousand are their tongues,\n But all their joys are one._\n\n\n\n\nNew York, 1906\n\n\n\n[Frontispiece: Thomas Ken]\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n PREFACE, v\n\n INTRODUCTION, ix\n\n 1. HYMNS OF PRAISE AND WORSHIP, 1\n\n 2. SOME HYMNS OF GREAT WITNESSES, 53\n\n 3. HYMNS OF CHRISTIAN DEVOTION AND EXPERIENCE, 100\n\n 4. MISSIONARY HYMNS, 165\n\n 5. HYMNS OF SUFFERING AND TRUST, 190\n\n 6. CHRISTIAN BALLADS, 237\n\n 7. OLD REVIVAL HYMNS, 262\n\n 8. SUNDAY SCHOOL HYMNS, 293\n\n 9. PATRIOTIC HYMNS, 321\n\n 10. SAILOR'S HYMNS, 353\n\n 11. HYMNS OF WALES, 378\n\n 12. FIELD HYMNS, 409\n\n 13. HYMNS, FESTIVAL AND OCCASIONAL, 458\n\n 14. HYMNS OF HOPE AND CONSOLATION, 509\n\n INDEXES OF NAMES, TUNES, AND HYMNS, 543\n\n\nLIST OF PORTRAITS.\n\n THOMAS KEN, Frontispiece\n OLIVER HOLDEN, Opp. page 14\n JOSEPH HAYDN, \" 30\n CHARLES WESLEY, \" 46\n MARTIN LUTHER, \" 62\n LADY HUNTINGDON, \" 94\n AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY, \" 126\n THOMAS HASTINGS, \" 142\n FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL, \" 158\n REGINALD HEBER, \" 174\n GEORGE JAMES WEBB, \" 190\n JOHN WESLEY, \" 206\n JOHN B. DYKES, \" 222\n ELLEN M.H. GATES, \" 254\n JAMES MONTGOMERY, \" 286\n FANNY J. CROSBY, \" 302\n SAMUEL F. SMITH, \" 334\n WILLIAM B. BRADBURY, \" 366\n ISAAC WATTS, \" 398\n GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL, \" 414\n PHILIP DODDRIDGE, \" 446\n LOWELL MASON, \" 478\n CARL VON WEBER, \" 494\n HORATIUS BONAR, \" 526\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nWhen the lapse of time and accumulation of fresh material suggested the\nneed of a new and revised edition of Mr. Hezekiah Butterworth's _Story\nof the Hymns_, which had been a popular text book on that subject for\nnearly a generation, the publishers requested him to prepare such a\nwork, reviewing the whole field of hymnology and its literature down to\ndate. He undertook the task, but left it unfinished at his lamented\ndeath, committing the manuscript to me in his last hours to arrange and\ncomplete.\n\nTo do this proved a labor of considerable magnitude, since what had been\ndone showed evidence of the late author's failing strength, and when, in\na conference with the publishers, it was proposed to combine the two\nbooks of Mr. Butterworth, the _Story of the Hymns_ and the _Story of the\nTunes_, in one volume, the task was doubled.\n\nThe charming popular style and story-telling gift of the well-known\ncompiler of these books had kept them in demand, the one for thirty and\nthe other for fifteen years, but later information had discounted some\nof their historic and biographical matter, and, while many of the\nmonographs were too meagre, others were unduly long. Besides, the _Story\nof the Tunes_, so far from being the counterpart of the _Story of the\nHymns_, bore no special relationship to it, only a small portion of its\nselections answering to any in the hymn-list of the latter book. For a\npersonal friend and practically unknown writer, to follow Mr.\nButterworth, and \"improve\" his earlier work to the more modern\nconditions, was a venture of no little difficulty and delicacy. The\nresult is submitted as simply a conscientious effort to give the best of\nthe old with the new.\n\nSo far as was possible, matter from the two previous books, and from the\ncrude manuscript, has been used, and passages here and there\ntranscribed, but so much of independent plan and original research has\nbeen necessary in arranging and verifying the substance of the chapters\nthat the _Story of the Hymns and Tunes_ is in fact a new volume rather\nthan a continuation. The chapter containing the account of the _Gospel\nHymns_ is recent work with scarcely an exception, and the one on the\n_Hymns of Wales_ is entirely new.\n\nWithout increasing the size of this volume beyond easy purchase and\nconvenient use, it was impossible to discuss the great oratorios and\ndramatic set-pieces, festival and occasional, and only passing\nreferences are made to them or their authors.\n\nAmong those who have helped me in my work special acknowledgements are\ndue to Mr. Hubert P. Main of Newark, N.J.; Messrs. Hughes & Son of\nWrexham, Wales; the American Tract Society, New York; Mr. William T.\nMeek, Mrs. A.J. Gordon, Mr. Paul Foster, Mr. George Douglas, and Revs.\nJohn R. Hague and Edmund F. Merriam of Boston; Professor William L.\nPhelps of New Haven, Conn.; Mrs. Ellen M.H. Gates of New York; Rev.\nFranklin G. McKeever of New London, Conn.; and Rev. Arthur S. Phelps of\nGreeley, Colorado. Further obligations are gratefully remembered to\nOliver Ditson & Co. for answers to queries and access to publications,\nto the Historic-and-Geneological Society and the custodians and\nattendants of the Boston Public Library (notably in the Music\nDepartment) for their uniform courtesy and pains in placing every\nresource within my reach.\n\nTHERON BROWN.\n\nBoston, May 15th, 1906.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nAugustine defines a hymn as \"praise to God with song,\" and another\nwriter calls hymn-singing \"a devotional approach to God in our\nemotions,\"--which of course applies to both the words and the music.\nThis religious emotion, reverently acknowledging the Divine Being in\nsong, is a constant element, and wherever felt it makes the song a\nworship, irrespective of sect or creed. An eminent Episcopal divine,\n(says the _Christian Register_,) one Trinity Sunday, at the close of his\nsermon, read three hymns by Unitarian authors: one to God the Father, by\nSamuel Longfellow, one to Jesus, by Theodore Parker, and one to the Holy\nSpirit, by N.L. Frothingham. \"There,\" he said, \"you have the\nTrinity--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\"\n\nIt is natural to speak of hymns as \"poems,\" indiscriminately, for they\nhave the same structure. But a hymn is not necessarily a poem, while a\npoem that can be sung as a hymn is something more than a poem.\nImagination makes poems; devotion makes hymns. There can be poetry\nwithout emotion, but a hymn never. A poem may argue; a hymn must not.\nIn short to be a hymn, what is written must express spiritual feelings\nand desires. The music of faith, hope and charity will be somewhere in\nits strain.\n\nPhilosophy composes poems, but not hymns. \"It is no love-symphony we\nhear when the lion thinkers roar,\" some blunt writer has said. \"The\nmoles of Science have never found the heavenly dove's nest, and the Sea\nof Reason touches no shore where balm for sorrow grows.\"\n\nOn the contrary there are thousands of true hymns that have no standing\nat the court of the muses. Even Cowper's Olney hymns, as Goldwin Smith\nhas said, \"have not any serious value as poetry. Hymns rarely have,\" he\ncontinues. \"There is nothing in them on which the creative imagination\ncan be exercised. Hymns can be little more than the incense of a\nworshipping soul.\"\n\nA fellow-student of Phillips Brooks tells us that \"most of his verse he\nwrote rapidly without revising, not putting much thought into it but\nusing it as the vehicle and outlet of his feelings. It was the sign of\nresponding love or gratitude and joy.\"\n\nTo produce a hymn one needs something more exalting than poetic fancy;\nan influence\n\n \"--subtler than the sun-light in the leaf-bud\n That thrills thro' all the forest, making May.\"\n\nIt is the Divine Spirit wakening the human heart to lyric language.\n\nReligion sings; that is true, though all \"religions\" do not sing. There\nis no voice of sacred song in Islamism. The muezzin call from the\nminarets is not music. One listens in vain for melody among the\nworshippers of the \"Light of Asia.\" The hum of pagoda litanies, and the\nshouts and gongs of idol processions are not psalms. But many historic\nfaiths have lost their melody, and we must go far back in the annals of\nethnic life to find the songs they sung.\n\nWorship appears to have been a primitive human instinct; and even when\nmany gods took the place of One in the blinder faith of men it was\nnature worship making deities of the elements and addressing them with\nsupplication and praise. Ancient hymns have been found on the monumental\ntablets of the cities of Nimrod; fragments of the Orphic and Homeric\nhymns are preserved in Greek anthology; many of the Vedic hymns are\nextant in India; and the exhumed stones of Egypt have revealed segments\nof psalm-prayers and liturgies that antedate history. Dr. Wallis Budge,\nthe English Orientalist, notes the discovery of a priestly hymn two\nthousand years older than the time of Moses, which invokes One Supreme\nBeing who \"cannot be figured in stone.\"\n\nSo far as we have any real evidence, however, the Hebrew people\nsurpassed all others in both the custom and the spirit of devout song.\nWe get snatches of their inspired lyrics in the song of Moses and\nMiriam, the song of Deborah and Barak, and the song of Hannah (sometimes\ncalled \"the Old Testament Magnificat\"), in the hymns of David and\nSolomon and all the Temple Psalms, and later where the New Testament\ngives us the \"Gloria\" of the Christmas angels, the thanksgiving of\nElizabeth (benedictus minor), Mary's Magnificat, the song of Zacharias\n(benedictus major), the \"nunc dimittis\" of Simeon, and the celestial\nascriptions and hallelujahs heard by St. John in his Patmos dream. For\nwhat we know of the first _formulated_ human prayer and praise we are\nmostly indebted to the Hebrew race. They seem to have been at least the\nonly ancient nation that had a complete psalter--and their collection is\nthe mother hymn-book of the world.\n\nProbably the first form of hymn-worship was the plain-song--a\ndeclamatory unison of assembled singers, every voice on the same pitch,\nand within the compass of five notes--and so continued, from whatever\nmay have stood for plain-song in Tabernacle and Temple days down to the\nearliest centuries of the Christian church. It was mere melodic\nprogression and volume of tone, and there were no instruments--after the\ncaptivity. Possibly it was the memory of the harps hung silent by the\nrivers of Babylon that banished the timbrel from the sacred march and\nthe ancient lyre from the post-exilic synagogues. Only the Feast trumpet\nwas left. But the Jews sang. Jesus and his disciples sang. Paul and\nSilas sang; and so did the post-apostolic Christians; but until towards\nthe close of the 16th century there were no instruments allowed in\nreligious worship.\n\nSt. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers has been called \"the father of Christian\nhymnology.\" About the middle of the 4th century he regulated the\necclesiastical song-service, wrote chant music (to Scripture words or\nhis own) and prescribed its place and use in his choirs. He died A.D.\n368. In the Church calendars, Jan. 13th (following \"Twelfth Night\"), is\nstill kept as \"St. Hilary's Day\" in the Church of England, and Jan. 14th\nin the Church of Rome.\n\nSt. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, a few years later, improved the work of\nhis predecessor, adding words and music of his own. The \"Ambrosian\nChant\" was the antiphonal plain-song arranged and systematized to\nstatelier effect in choral symphony. Ambrose died A.D. 397.\n\nToward the end of the 6th century Christian music showed a decline in\nconsequence of impatient meddling with the slow canonical psalmody, and\n\"reformers\" had impaired its solemnity by introducing fanciful\nembellishments. Gregory the Great (Pope of Rome, 590-604) banished these\nfrom the song service, founded a school of sacred melody, composed new\nchants and established the distinctive character of ecclesiastical hymn\nworship. The Gregorian chant--on the diatonic eight sounds and seven\nsyllables of equal length--continued, with its majestic choral step, to\nbe the basis of cathedral music for a thousand years. In the meantime\n(930) Hucbald, the Flanders monk, invented _sight_ music, or written\nnotes--happily called the art of \"hearing with the eyes and seeing with\nthe ears\"; and Guido Arentino (1024) contrived the present scale, or the\n\"hexachord\" on which the present scale was perfected.\n\nIn this long interval, however, the \"established\" system of hymn service\ndid not escape the intrusion of inevitable novelties that crept in with\nthe change of popular taste. Unrhythmical singing could not always hold\nits own; and when polyphonic music came into public favor, secular airs\ngradually found their way into the choirs. Legatos, with their pleasing\nturn and glide, caught the ear of the multitude. Tripping allegrettos\nsounded sweeter to the vulgar sense than the old largos of Pope Gregory\nthe Great.\n\nThe guardians of the ancient order took alarm. One can imagine the\npained amazement of conservative souls today on hearing \"Ring the Bells\nof Heaven\" substituted in church for \"Mear\" or the long-metre Doxology,\nand can understand the extreme distaste of the ecclesiastical\nreactionaries for the worldly frivolities of an A.D. 1550 choir.\nPresumably that modern abomination, the _vibrato_, with its shake of\nartificial fright, had not been invented then, and sanctuary form was\nsaved one indignity. But the innovations became an abuse so general that\nthe Council of Trent commissioned a select board of cardinals and\nmusicians to arrest the degeneration of church song-worship.\n\nOne of the experts consulted in this movement was an eminent Italian\ncomposer born twenty miles from Rome. His full name was Giovanni Pietro\nAloysio da Palestrina, and at that time he was in the prime of his\npowers. He was master of polyphonic music as well as plain-song, and he\nproposed applying it to grace the older mode, preserving the solemn\nbeauty of the chant but adding the charming chords of counterpoint. He\nwrote three \"masses,\" one of them being his famous \"Requiem.\" These were\nsung under his direction before the Commission. Their magnificence and\npurity revealed to the censors the possibilities of contrapuntal music\nin sanctuary devotion and praise. The sanction of the cardinals was\ngiven--and part-song harmony became permanently one of the angel voices\nof the Christian church.\n\nPalestrina died in 1594, but hymn-tunes adapted from his motets and\nmasses are sung today. He was the father of the choral tune. He lived to\nsee musical instruments and congregational singing introduced[1] in\npublic worship, and to know (possibly with secret pleasure, though he\nwas a Romanist) how richly in popular assemblies, during the Protestant\nReformation, the new freedom of his helpful art had multiplied the\ncreation of spiritual hymns.\n\n[Footnote 1: But not fully established in use till about 1625.]\n\nContemporary in England with Palestrina in Italy was Thomas Tallis who\ndeveloped the Anglican school of church music, which differed less from\nthe Italian (or Catholic) psalmody than that of the Continental\nchurches, where the revolt of the Reformation extended to the\ntune-worship as notably as to the sacraments and sermons. This\ndifference created a division of method and practice even in England,\nand extreme Protestants who repudiated everything artistic or ornate\nformed the Puritan or Genevan School. Their style is represented among\nour hymn-tunes by \"Old Hundred,\" while the representative of the\nAnglican is \"Tallis' Evening Hymn.\" The division was only temporary. The\ntwo schools were gradually reconciled, and together made the model after\nwhich the best sacred tunes are built. It is Tallis who is called \"The\nfather of English Cathedral music.\"\n\nIn Germany, after the invention of harmony, church music was still felt\nto be too formal for a working force, and there was a reaction against\nthe motets and masses of Palestrina as being too stately and difficult.\nLighter airs of the popular sort, such as were sung between the acts of\nthe \"mystery plays,\" were subsidized by Luther, who wrote compositions\nand translations to their measure. Part-song was simplified, and Johan\nWalther compiled a hymnal of religious songs in the vernacular for from\nfour to six voices. The reign of rhythmic hymn music soon extended\nthrough Europe.\n\nNecessarily--except in ultra-conservative localities like Scotland--the\nexclusive use of the Psalms (metrical or unmetrical) gave way to\nreligious lyrics inspired by occasion. Clement Marot and Theodore Beza\nwrote hymns to the music of various composers, and Caesar Malan composed\nboth hymns and their melodies. By the beginning of the 18th century the\ntriumph of the hymn-tune and the hymnal for lay voices was established\nfor all time.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn the following pages no pretence is made of selecting _all_ the best\nand most-used hymns, but the purpose has been to notice as many as\npossible of the standard pieces--and a few others which seem to add or\nre-shape a useful thought or introduce a new strain.\n\nTo present each hymn _with its tune_ appeared the natural and most\nsatisfactory way, as in most cases it is impossible to dissociate the\ntwo. The melody is the psychological coefficient of the metrical text.\nWithout it the verse of a seraph would be smothered praise. Like a\nflower and its fragrance, hymn and tune are one creature, and stand for\na whole value and a full effect. With this normal combination a\n_complete_ descriptive list of the hymns and tunes would be a historic\ndictionary. Such a book may one day be made, but the present volume is\nan attempt to the same end within easier limits.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nHYMNS OF PRAISE AND WORSHIP.\n\n\n\"TE DEUM LAUDAMUS.\"\n\nThis famous church confession in song was composed A.D. 387 by Ambrose,\nBishop of Milan, probably both words and music.\n\n Te Deum laudamus, Te Dominum confitemur\n Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur\n Tibi omnes angeli, tibi coeli et universae potestates,\n Tibi cherubim et seraphim inaccessibili voce proclamant\n Sanctus, sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth.\n\nIn the whole hymn there are thirty lines. The saying that the early\nRoman hymns were echoes of Christian Greece, as the Greek hymns were\nechoes of Jerusalem, is probably true, but they were only echoes. In\nA.D. 252, St. Cyprian, writing his consolatory epistle[2] during the\nplague in Carthage, when hundreds were dying every day, says, \"Ah,\nperfect and perpetual bliss! [in heaven.] There is the glorious company\nof the apostles; there is the fellowship of the prophets rejoicing;\nthere is the innumerable multitude of martyrs crowned.\" Which would\nsuggest that lines or fragments of what afterwards crystalized into the\nformula of the \"Te Deum\" were already familiar in the Christian church.\nBut it is generally believed that the tongue of Ambrose gave the anthem\nits final form.\n\n[Footnote 2: [Greek: Peri tou thnetou], \"On the Mortality.\"]\n\nAmbrose was born in Gaul about the middle of the fourth century and\nraised to his bishopric in A.D. 374. Very early he saw and appreciated\nthe popular effect of musical sounds, and what an evangelical instrument\na chorus of chanting voices could be in preaching the Christian faith;\nand he introduced the responsive singing of psalms and sacred cantos in\nthe worship of the church. \"A grand thing is that singing, and nothing\ncan stand before it,\" he said, when the critics of his time complained\nthat his innovation was sensational. That such a charge could be made\nagainst the Ambrosian mode of music, with its slow movement and\nunmetrical lines, seems strange to us, but it was _new_--and\nconservatism is the same in all ages.\n\nThe great bishop carried all before him. His school of song-worship\nprevailed in Christian Europe more than two hundred years. Most of his\nhymns are lost, (the Benedictine writers credit him with twelve), but,\njudging by their effect on the powerful mind of Augustine, their\ninfluence among the common people must have been profound, and far more\nlasting than the author's life. \"Their voices sank into mine ears, and\ntheir truths distilled into my heart,\" wrote Augustine, long afterwards,\nof these hymns; \"tears ran down, and I rejoiced in them.\"\n\nPoetic tradition has dramatized the story of the birth of the \"Te Deum,\"\ndating it on an Easter Sunday, and dividing the honor of its composition\nbetween Ambrose and his most eminent convert. It was the day when the\nbishop baptized Augustine, in the presence of a vast throng that crowded\nthe Basilica of Milan. As if foreseeing with a prophet's eye that his\nbrilliant candidate would become one of the ruling stars of Christendom,\nAmbrose lifted his hands to heaven and chanted in a holy rapture,--\n\n We praise Thee, O God! We acknowledge Thee to be the Lord;\n All the Earth doth worship Thee, the Father Everlasting.\n\nHe paused, and from the lips of the baptized disciple came the\nresponse,--\n\n To Thee all the angels cry aloud: the heavens and all the powers\n therein.\n To Thee cherubim and seraphim continually do cry,\n \"Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabaoth;\n Heaven and Earth are full of the majesty of Thy glory!\"\n\nand so, stave by stave, in alternating strains, sprang that day from the\ninspired lips of Ambrose and Augustine the \"Te Deum Laudamus,\" which has\never since been the standard anthem of Christian praise.\n\nWhatever the foundation of the story, we may at least suppose the first\npublic singing[3] of the great chant to have been associated with that\neventful baptism.\n\n[Footnote 3: The \"Te Deum\" was first sung _in English_ by the martyr,\nBishop Ridley, at Hearne Church, where he was at one time vicar.]\n\nThe various anthems, sentences and motets in all Christian languages\nbearing the titles \"Trisagion\" or \"Tersanctus,\" and \"Te Deum\" are taken\nfrom portions of this royal hymn. The sublime and beautiful \"Holy, Holy,\nHoly\" of Bishop Heber was suggested by it.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nNo echo remains, so far as is known, of the responsive chant actually\nsung by Ambrose, but one of the best modern choral renderings of the \"Te\nDeum\" is the one by Henry Smart in his _Morning and Evening Service_. In\nan ordinary church hymnal it occupies seven pages. The staff-directions\nwith the music indicate the part or cue of the antiphonal singers by the\nwords Decani (Dec.) and Cantor (Can.), meaning first the division of the\nchoir on the Dean's side, and second the division on the Cantor's or\nPrecentor's side.\n\nHenry Smart was one of the five great English composers that followed\nour American Mason. He was born in London, Oct. 25, 1812, and chose\nmusic for a profession in preference to an offered commission in the\nEast Indian army. His talent as a composer, especially of sacred music,\nwas marvellous, and, though he became blind, his loss of sight was no\nmore hindrance to his genius than loss of hearing to Beethoven.\n\nNo composer of his time equalled Henry Smart as a writer of music for\nfemale voices. His cantatas have been greatly admired, and his hymn\ntunes are unsurpassed for their purity and sweetness, while his anthems,\nhis oratorio of \"Jacob,\" and indeed all that he wrote, show the hand and\nthe inventive gift of a great musical artist.\n\nHe died July 10, 1879, universally mourned for his inspired work, and\nhis amiable character.\n\n\n\"ALL GLORY, LAUD AND HONOR.\"\n_Gloria, Laus et Honor._\n\nThis stately Latin hymn of the early part of the 9th century was\ncomposed in A.D. 820, by Theodulph, Bishop of Orleans, while a captive\nin the cloister of Anjou. King Louis (le Debonnaire) son of Charlemagne,\nhad trouble with his royal relatives, and suspecting Theodulph to be in\nsympathy with them, shut him up in prison. A pretty story told by\nClichtovius, an old church writer of A.D. 1518, relates how on Palm\nSunday the king, celebrating the feast with his people, passed in\nprocession before the cloister, where the face of the venerable prisoner\nat his cell window caused an involuntary halt, and, in the moment of\nsilence, the bishop raised his voice and sang this hymn; and how the\ndelighted king released the singer, and restored him to his bishopric.\nThis tale, told after seven hundred years, is not the only legend that\ngrew around the hymn and its author, but the fact that he composed it in\nthe cloister of Anjou while confined there is not seriously disputed.\n\n Gloria, laus et honor Tibi sit, Rex Christe Redemptor,\n Cui puerile decus prompsit Hosanna pium.\n Israel Tu Rex, Davidis et inclyta proles,\n Nomine qui in Domini Rex benedicte venis\n Gloria, laus et honor.\n\nTheodulph was born in Spain, but of Gothic pedigree, a child of the race\nof conquerors who, in the 5th century, overran Southern Europe. He died\nin 821, but whether a free man or still a prisoner at the time of his\ndeath is uncertain. Some accounts allege that he was poisoned in the\ncloister. The Roman church canonized him, and his hymn is still sung as\na processional in Protestant as well as Catholic churches. The above\nLatin lines are the first four of the original seventy-eight. The\nfollowing is J.M. Neale's translation of the portion now in use:\n\n All glory, laud, and honor,\n To Thee, Redeemer, King:\n To whom the lips of children\n Made sweet Hosannas ring.\n\n Thou are the King of Israel,\n Thou David's royal Son,\n Who in the Lord's name comest,\n The King and Blessed One. All glory, etc.\n\n The company of angels\n Are praising Thee on high;\n And mortal men, and all things\n Created, make reply. All glory, etc.\n\n The people of the Hebrews\n With palms before Thee went;\n Our praise and prayer and anthems\n Before Thee we present. All glory, etc.\n\n To Thee before Thy Passion\n They sang their hymns of praise;\n To Thee, now high exalted\n Our melody we raise. All glory, etc.\n\n Thou didst accept their praises;\n Accept the prayers we bring,\n Who in all good delightest,\n Thou good and gracious King. All glory, etc.\n\nThe translator, Rev. John Mason Neale, D.D., was born in London, Jan.\n24, 1818, and graduated at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1840. He was a\nprolific writer, and after taking holy orders he held the office of\nWarden of Sackville College, East Grimstead, Sussex. Best known among\nhis published works are _Mediaeval Hymns and Sequences_, _Hymns for\nChildren_, _Hymns of the Eastern Church_ and _The Rhythms of Morlaix_.\nHe died Aug. 6, 1866.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThere is no certainty as to the original tune of Theodulph's Hymn, or\nhow long it survived, but various modern composers have given it music\nin more or less keeping with its character, notably Melchior Teschner,\nwhose harmony, \"St. Theodulph,\" appears in the new _Methodist Hymnal_.\nIt well represents the march of the bishop's Latin.\n\nMelchior Teschner, a Prussian musician, was Precentor at Frauenstadt,\nSilesia, about 1613.\n\n\n\"ALL PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL LORD.\"\n_Gelobet Seist du Jesu Christ._\n\nThis introductory hymn of worship, a favorite Christmas hymn in Germany,\nis ancient, and appears to be a versification of a Latin prose\n\"Sequence\" variously ascribed to a 9th century author, and to Gregory\nthe Great in the 6th century. Its German form is still credited to\nLuther in most hymnals. Julian gives an earlier German form (1370) of\nthe \"Gelobet,\" but attributes all but the first stanza to Luther, as the\nhymn now stands. The following translation, printed first in the\n_Sabbath Hymn Book_, Andover, 1858, is the one adopted by Schaff in his\n_Christ in Song_:\n\n All praise to Thee, eternal Lord,\n Clothed in the garb of flesh and blood;\n Choosing a manger for Thy throne,\n While worlds on worlds are Thine alone!\n\n Once did the skies before Thee bow;\n A virgin's arms contain Thee now;\n Angels, who did in Thee rejoice,\n Now listen for Thine infant voice.\n\n A little child, Thou art our guest,\n That weary ones in Thee may rest;\n Forlorn and lowly in Thy birth,\n That we may rise to heaven from earth.\n\n Thou comest in the darksome night,\n To make us children of the light;\n To make us, in the realms divine,\n Like Thine own angels round Thee shine.\n\n All this for us Thy love hath done:\n By this to Thee our love is won;\n For this we tune our cheerful lays,\n And shout our thanks in endless praise.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe 18th century tune of \"Weimar\" (_Evangelical Hymnal_), by Emanuel\nBach, suits the spiritual tone of the hymn, and suggests the Gregorian\ndignity of its origin.\n\nKarl Philip Emanuel Bach, called \"the Berlin Bach\" to distinguish him\nfrom his father, the great Sebastian Bach of Saxe Weimar, was born in\nWeimar, March 14, 1714. He early devoted himself to music, and coming to\nBerlin when twenty-four years old was appointed Chamber musician (Kammer\nMusicus) in the Royal Chapel, where he often accompanied Frederick the\nGreat (who was an accomplished flutist) on the harpsichord. His most\nnumerous compositions were piano music but he wrote a celebrated\n\"Sanctus,\" and two oratorios, besides a number of chorals, of which\n\"Weimar\" is one. He died in Hamburg, Dec. 14, 1788.\n\n\nTHE MAGNIFICAT.\n[Greek: Megalunei he psuche mou ton Kurion.]\n\n Magnificat anima mea Dominum,\n Et exultavit Spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo.\n Luke 1:46-55.\n\nWe can date with some certainty the hymn itself composed by the Virgin\nMary, but when it first became a song of the Christian Church no one can\ntell. Its thanksgiving may have found tone among the earliest martyrs,\nwho, as Pliny tells us, sang hymns in their secret worship. We can only\ntrace it back to the oldest chant music, when it was doubtless sung by\nboth the Eastern and Western Churches. In the rude liturgies of the 4th\nand 5th centuries it must have begun to assume ritual form; but it\nremained for the more modern school of composers hundreds of years later\nto illustrate the \"Magnificat\" with the melody of art and genius.\nSuperseding the primitive unisonous plain-song, the old parallel\nconcords, and the simple faburden (faux bourdon) counterpoint that\nsucceeded Gregory, they taught how musical tones can better assist\nworship with the beauty of harmony and the precision of scientific\ntaste. Musicians in Italy, France, Germany and England have contributed\ntheir scores to this inspired hymn. Some of them still have place in the\nhymnals, a noble one especially by the blind English tone-master, Henry\nSmart, author of the oratorio of \"Jacob.\" None, however, have equaled\nthe work of Handel. His \"Magnificat\" was one of his favorite\nproductions, and he borrowed strains from it in several of his later and\nlesser productions.\n\nGeorge Frederic Handel, author of the immortal \"Messiah,\" was born at\nHalle, Saxony, in 1685, and died in London in 1759. The musical bent of\nhis genius was apparent almost from his infancy. At the age of eighteen\nhe was earning his living with his violin, and writing his first opera.\nAfter a sojourn in Italy, he settled in Hanover as Chapel Master to the\nElector, who afterwards became the English king, George I. The\nfriendship of the king and several of his noblemen drew him to England,\nwhere he spent forty-seven years and composed his greatest works.\n\nHe wrote three hymn-tunes (it is said at the request of a converted\nactress), \"Canons,\" \"Fitzwilliam,\" and \"Gopsall,\" the first an\ninvitation, \"Sinners, Obey the Gospel Word,\" the second a meditation, \"O\nLove Divine, How Sweet Thou Art,\" and the third a resurrection song to\nWelsey's words \"Rejoice, the Lord is King.\" This last still survives in\nsome hymnals.\n\n\nTHE DOXOLOGIES.\n\n Be Thou, O God, exalted high,\n And as Thy glory fills the sky\n So let it be on earth displayed\n Till Thou art here as there obeyed.\n\nThis sublime quatrain, attributed to Nahum Tate, like the Lord's Prayer,\nis suited to all occasions, to all Christian denominations, and to all\nplaces and conditions of men. It has been translated into all civilized\nlanguages, and has been rising to heaven for many generations from\ncongregations round the globe wherever the faith of Christendom has\nbuilt its altars. This doxology is the first stanza of a sixteen line\nhymn (possibly longer originally), the rest of which is forgotten.\n\nNahum Tate was born in Dublin, in 1652, and educated there at Trinity\nCollege. He was appointed poet-laureate by King William III. in 1690,\nand it was in conjunction with Dr. Nicholas Brady that he executed his\n\"New\" metrical version of the Psalms. The entire Psalter, with an\nappendix of Hymns, was licensed by William and Mary and published in\n1703. The _hymns_ in the volume are all by Tate. He died in London, Aug.\n12, 1717.\n\nRev. Nicholas Brady, D.D., was an Irishman, son of an officer in the\nroyal army, and was born at Bandon, County of Cork, Oct. 28, 1659. He\nstudied in the Westminster School at Oxford, but afterwards entered\nTrinity College, Dublin, where he graduated in 1685. William made him\nQueen Mary's Chaplain. He died May 20, 1726.\n\nThe other nearly contemporary form of doxology is in common use, but\nthough elevated and devotional in spirit, it cannot be universal, owing\nto its credal line being objectionable to non-Trinitarian Protestants:\n\n Praise God from whom all blessings flow,\n Praise Him all creatures here below,\n Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,\n Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.\n\nThe author, the Rev. Thomas Ken, was born in Berkhampstead,\nHertfordshire, Eng., July, 1637, and was educated at Winchester School,\nHertford College, and New College, Oxford. In 1662 he took holy orders,\nand seventeen years later the king (Charles II.) appointed him chaplain\nto his sister Mary, Princess of Orange. Later the king, just before his\ndeath, made him Bishop of Bath and Wells.\n\nLike John the Baptist, and Bourdaloue, and Knox, he was a faithful\nspiritual monitor and adviser during all his days at court. \"I must go\nin and hear Ken tell me my faults,\" the king used to say at chapel time.\nThe \"good little man\" (as he called the bishop) never lost the favor of\nthe dissipated monarch. As Macaulay says, \"Of all the prelates, he liked\nKen the best.\"\n\nUnder James, the Papist, Ken was a loyal subject, though once arrested\nas one of the \"seven bishops\" for his opposition to the king's religion,\nand he kept his oath of allegiance so firmly that it cost him his place.\nWilliam III. deprived him of his bishopric, and he retired in poverty to\na home kindly offered him by Lord Viscount Weymouth in Longleat, near\nFrome, in Somersetshire, where he spent a serene and beloved old age. He\ndied aet. seventy-four, March 17, 1711 (N.S.), and was carried to his\ngrave, according to his request, by \"six of the poorest men in the\nparish.\"\n\nHis great doxology is the refrain or final stanza of each of his three\nlong hymns, \"Morning,\" \"Evening\" and \"Midnight,\" printed in a _Prayer\nManual_ for the use of the students of Winchester College. The \"Evening\nHymn\" drew scenic inspiration, it is told, from the lovely view in\nHorningsham Park at \"Heaven's Gate Hill,\" while walking to and from\nchurch.\n\nAnother four-line doxology, adopted probably from Dr. Hatfield\n(1807-1883), is almost entirely superseded by Ken's stanza, being of\neven more pronounced credal character.\n\n To God the Father, God the Son,\n And God the Spirit, Three in One.\n Be honor, praise and glory given\n By all on earth and all in heaven.\n\nThe _Methodist Hymnal_ prints a collection of ten doxologies, two by\nWatts, one by Charles Wesley, one by John Wesley, one by William Goode,\none by Edwin F. Hatfield, one attributed to \"Tate and Brady,\" one by\nRobert Hawkes, and the one by Ken above noted. These are all technically\nand intentionally doxologies. To give a history of doxologies in the\ngeneral sense of the word would carry one through every Christian age\nand language and end with a concordance of the Book of Psalms.\n\n[Illustration: Oliver Holden]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nFew would think of any music more appropriate to a standard doxology\nthan \"Old Hundred.\" This grand Gregorian harmony has been claimed to be\nLuther's production, while some have believed that Louis Bourgeois,\neditor of the French _Genevan Psalter_, composed the tune, but the\nweight of evidence seems to indicate that it was the work of Guillaume\nle Franc, (William Franck or William the Frenchman,) of Rouen, in\nFrance, who founded a music school in Geneva, 1541. He was Chapel Master\nthere, but removed to Lausanne, where he played in the Catholic choir\nand wrote the tunes for an Edition of Marot's and Beza's Psalms. Died in\nLausanne, 1570.\n\n\n\"THE LORD DESCENDED FROM ABOVE.\"\n\nA flash of genuine inspiration was vouchsafed to Thomas Sternhold when\nengaged with Rev. John Hopkins in versifying the Eighteenth Psalm. The\nridicule heaped upon Sternhold and Hopkins's psalmbook has always\nstopped, and sobered into admiration and even reverence at the two\nstanzas beginning with this leading line--\n\n The Lord descended from above\n And bowed the heavens most high,\n And underneath His feet He cast\n The darkness of the sky.\n\n On cherub and on cherubim\n Full royally He rode,\n And on the wings of mighty winds\n Came flying all abroad.\n\nThomas Sternhold was born in Gloucestershire, Eng. He was Groom of the\nRobes to Henry VIII, and Edward VI., but is only remembered for his\n_Psalter_ published in 1562, thirteen years after his death in 1549.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Nottingham\" (now sometimes entitled \"St. Magnus\") is a fairly good echo\nof the grand verses, a dignified but spirited choral in A flat. Jeremiah\nClark, the composer, was born in London, 1670. Educated at the Chapel\nRoyal, he became organist of Winchester College and finally to St.\nPaul's Cathedral where he was appointed Gentleman of the Chapel. He died\nJuly, 1707.\n\nThe tune of \"Majesty\" by William Billings will be noticed in a later\nchapter.\n\n\nTALLIS' EVENING HYMN.\n\n Glory to Thee, my God, this night\n For all the blessings of the light,\n Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,\n Under Thine own Almighty wings.\n\nThis stanza begins the second of Bp. Ken's three beautiful hymn-prayers\nin his _Manual_ mentioned on a previous page.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nFor more than three hundred and fifty years devout people have enjoyed\nthat melody of mingled dignity and sweetness known as \"Tallis' Evening\nHymn.\"\n\nThomas Tallis was an Englishman, born about 1520, and at an early age\nwas a boy chorister at St. Paul's. After his voice changed, he played\nthe organ at Waltham Abbey, and some time later was chosen organist\nroyal to Queen Elizabeth. His pecuniary returns for his talent did not\nmake him rich, though he bore the title after 1542 of Gentleman of the\nChapel Royal, for his stipend was sevenpence a day. Some gain may\npossibly have come to him, however, from his publication, late in life,\nunder the queen's special patent, of a collection of hymns and tunes.\n\nHe wrote much and was the real founder of the English Church school of\ncomposers, but though St. Paul's was at one time well supplied with his\nmotets and anthems, it is impossible now to give a list of Tallis'\ncompositions for the Church. His music was written originally to Latin\nwords, but when, after the Reformation, the use of vernacular hymns, was\nintroduced he probably adapted his scores to either language.\n\nIt is inferred that he was in attendance on Queen Elizabeth at her\npalace in Greenwich when he died, for he was buried in the old parish\nchurch there in November, 1585. The rustic rhymer who indited his\nepitaph evidently did the best he could to embalm the virtues of the\ngreat musician as a man, a citizen, and a husband:\n\n Enterred here doth ly a worthy wyght,\n Who for long time in musick bore the bell:\n His name to shew was Thomas Tallis hyght;\n In honest vertuous lyff he dyd excell.\n\n He served long tyme in chappel with grete prayse,\n Fower sovereygnes reignes, (a thing not often seene);\n I mean King Henry and Prince Edward's dayes,\n Quene Marie, and Elizabeth our quene.\n\n He maryed was, though children he had none,\n And lyv'd in love full three and thirty yeres\n With loyal spowse, whose name yclept was Jone,\n Who, here entombed, him company now bears.\n\n As he dyd lyve, so also dyd he dy,\n In myld and quyet sort, O happy man!\n To God ful oft for mercy did he cry;\n Wherefore he lyves, let Deth do what he can.\n\n\n\"THE GOD OF ABRAHAM PRAISE.\"\n\nThis is one of the thanksgivings of the ages.\n\n The God of Abraham praise,\n Who reigns enthroned above;\n Ancient of everlasting days,\n And God of love.\n Jehovah, Great I AM!\n By earth and heaven confessed,\n I bow and bless the sacred Name,\n Forever blest.\n\nThe hymn, of twelve eight-line stanzas, is too long to quote entire,\nbut is found in both the _Plymouth_ and _Methodist Hymnals_.\n\nThomas Olivers, born in Tregynon, near Newtown, Montgomeryshire, Wales,\n1725, was, according to local testimony, \"the worst boy known in all\nthat country, for thirty years.\" It is more charitable to say that he\nwas a poor fellow who had no friends. Left an orphan at five years of\nage, he was passed from one relative to another until all were tired of\nhim, and he was \"bound out\" to a shoemaker. Almost inevitably the\nneglected lad grew up wicked, for no one appeared to care for his habits\nand morals, and as he sank lower in the various vices encouraged by bad\ncompany, there were more kicks for him than helping hands. At the age of\neighteen his reputation in the town had become so unsavory that he was\nforced to shift for himself elsewhere.\n\nProvidence led him, when shabby and penniless, to the old seaport town\nof Bristol, where Whitefield was at that time preaching,[4] and there\nthe young sinner heard the divine message that lifted him to his feet.\n\n[Footnote 4: Whitefield's text was, \"Is not this a brand plucked out of\nthe fire?\" Zach. 3:2.]\n\n\"When that sermon began,\" he said, \"I was one of the most abandoned and\nprofligate young men living; before it ended I was a new creature. The\nworld was all changed for Tom Olivers.\"\n\nHis new life, thus begun, lasted on earth more than sixty useful years.\nHe left a shining record as a preacher of righteousness, and died in the\ntriumphs of faith, November, 1799. Before he passed away he saw at least\nthirty editions of his hymn published, but the soul-music it has\nawakened among the spiritual children of Abraham can only reach him in\nheaven. Some of its words have been the last earthly song of many, as\nthey were of the eminent Methodist theologian, Richard Watson--\n\n I shall behold His face,\n I shall His power adore,\n And sing the wonders of His grace\n Forevermore.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe precise date of the tune \"Leoni\" is unknown, as also the precise\ndate of the hymn. The story is that Olivers visited the great \"Duke's\nPlace\" Synagogue, Aldgate, London, and heard Meyer Lyon (Leoni) sing the\nYigdal or long doxology to an air so noble and impressive that it\nhaunted him till he learned it and fitted to it the sublime stanzas of\nhis song. Lyon, a noted Jewish musician and vocalist, was chorister of\nthis London Synagogue during the latter part of the 18th century and the\nYigdal was a portion of the Hebrew Liturgy composed in medieval times,\nit is said, by Daniel Ben Judah. The fact that the Methodist leaders\ntook Olivers from his bench to be one of their preachers answers any\nsuggestion that the converted shoemaker _copied_ the Jewish hymn and put\nChristian phrases in it. He knew nothing of Hebrew, and had he known\nit, a literal translation of the Yigdal will show hardly a similarity to\nhis evangelical lines. Only the music as Leoni sang it prompted his own\nsong, and he gratefully put the singer's name to it. Montgomery, who\nadmired the majestic style of the hymn, and its glorious imagery, said\nof its author, \"The man who wrote that hymn must have had the finest ear\nimaginable, for on account of the peculiar measure, none but a person of\nequal musical and poetic taste could have produced the harmony\nperceptible in the verse.\"\n\nWhether the hymnist or some one else fitted the hymn to the tune, the\n\"fine ear\" and \"poetic taste\" that Montgomery applauded are evident\nenough in the union.\n\n\n\"O WORSHIP THE KING ALL GLORIOUS ABOVE.\"\n\nThis hymn of Sir Robert Grant has become almost universally known, and\nis often used as a morning or opening service song by choirs and\ncongregations of all creeds. The favorite stanzas are the first four--\n\n O worship the King all-glorious above,\n And gratefully sing His wonderful love--\n Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days,\n Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.\n\n O tell of His might, and sing of His grace,\n Whose robe is the light, whose canopy, space;\n His chariots of wrath the deep thunder-clouds form,\n And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.\n\n Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?\n It breathes in the air, it shines in the light,\n It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,\n And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain.\n\n Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,\n In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail.\n Thy mercies how tender! how firm to the end!\n Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend!\n\nThis is a model hymn of worship. Like the previous one by Thomas\nOlivers, it is strongly Hebrew in its tone and diction, and drew its\ninspiration from the Old Testament Psalter, the text-book of all true\npraise-song.\n\nSir Robert Grant was born in the county of Inverness, Scotland, in 1785,\nand educated at Cambridge. He was many years member of Parliament for\nInverness and a director in the East India Company, and 1834 was\nappointed Governor of Bombay. He died at Dapoorie, Western India, July\n9, 1838.\n\nSir Robert was a man of deep Christian feeling and a poetic mind. His\nwritings were not numerous, but their thoughtful beauty endeared him to\na wide circle of readers. In 1839 his brother, Lord Glenelg, published\ntwelve of his poetical pieces, and a new edition in 1868. The volume\ncontains the more or less well-known hymns--\n\n The starry firmament on high.\n\n Saviour, when in dust to Thee,\n\nand--\n\n When gathering clouds around I view.\n\nSir Robert's death, when scarcely past his prime, would indicate a\ndecline by reason of illness, and perhaps other serious affliction, that\njustified the poetic license in the submissive verses beginning--\n\n Thy mercy heard my infant prayer.\n\n * * * * *\n\n And now _in age_ and grief Thy name\n Does still my languid heart inflame,\n And bow my faltering knee.\n Oh, yet this bosom feels the fire,\n This trembling hand and drooping lyre\n Have yet a strain for Thee.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nSeveral musical pieces written to the hymn, \"O, Worship the King,\" have\nappeared in church psalm-books, and others have been borrowed for it,\nbut the one oftenest sung to its words is Haydn's \"Lyons.\" Its vigor and\nspirit best fit it for Grant's noble lyric.\n\n\n\"MAJESTIC SWEETNESS SITS ENTHRONED.\"\n\nRev. Samuel Stennett D.D., the author of this hymn, was the son of Rev.\nJoseph Stennett, and grandson of Rev. Joseph Stennett D.D., who wrote--\n\n Another six days' work is done,\n Another Sabbath is begun.\n\nAll were Baptist ministers. Samuel was born in 1727, at Exeter, Eng.,\nand at the age of twenty-one became his father's assistant, and\nsubsequently his successor over the church in Little Wild Street,\nLincoln's Inn Fields, London.\n\n Majestic sweetness sits enthroned\n Upon the Saviour's brow;\n His head with radiant glories crowned,\n His lips with grace o'erflow.\n\n * * * * *\n\n To Him I owe my life and breath\n And all the joys I have;\n He makes me triumph over death,\n He saves me from the grave.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Since from His bounty I receive\n Such proofs of love divine,\n Had I a thousand hearts to give,\n Lord, they should all be Thine.\n\nSamuel Stennett was one of the most respected and influential ministers\nof the Dissenting persuasion, and a confidant of many of the most\ndistinguished statesmen of his time. The celebrated John Howard was his\nparishoner and intimate friend. His degree of Doctor of Divinity was\nbestowed upon him by Aberdeen University. Besides his theological\nwritings he composed and published thirty-eight hymns, among them--\n\n On Jordan's stormy banks I stand,\n\n When two or three with sweet accord,\n\n Here at Thy table, Lord, we meet,\n\nand--\n\n \"'Tis finished,\" so the Saviour cried.\n\n\"Majestic Sweetness\" began the third stanza of his longer hymn--\n\n To Christ the Lord let every tongue.\n\nDr. Stennett died in London, Aug. 24, 1795.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nFor fifty or sixty years \"Ortonville\" has been linked with this devout\nhymn, and still maintains its fitting fellowship. The tune, composed in\n1830, was the work of Thomas Hastings, and is almost as well-known and\nas often sung as his immortal \"Toplady.\" (See chap. 3, \"Rock of Ages.\")\n\n\n\"ALL HAIL THE POWER OF JESUS' NAME.\"\n\nThis inspiring lyric of praise appears to have been written about the\nmiddle of the eighteenth century. Its author, the Rev. Edward Perronet,\nson of Rev. Vincent Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham, Eng., was a man of\ngreat faith and humility but zealous in his convictions, sometimes to\nhis serious expense. He was born in 1721, and, though eighteen years\nyounger than Charles Wesley, the two became bosom friends, and it was\nunder the direction of the Wesleys that Perronet became a preacher in\nthe evangelical movement. Lady Huntingdon later became his patroness,\nbut some needless and imprudent expressions in a satirical poem, \"The\nMitre,\" revealing his hostility to the union of church and state, cost\nhim her favor, and his contention against John Wesley's law that none\nbut the regular parish ministers had the right to administer the\nsacraments, led to his complete separation from both the Wesleys. He\nsubsequently became the pastor of a small church of Dissenters in\nCanterbury, where he died, in January, 1792. His piety uttered itself\nwhen near his happy death, and his last words were a Gloria.\n\n All hail the power of Jesus' name!\n Let angels prostrate fall;\n Bring forth the royal diadem,\n To crown Him Lord of all.\n\n Ye seed of Israel's chosen race,\n Ye ransomed of the fall,\n Hail Him Who saves you by His grace,\n And crown Him Lord of all.\n\n Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget\n The wormwood and the gall,\n Go, spread your trophies at His feet,\n And crown Him Lord of all.\n\n Let every tribe and every tongue\n That bound creation's call,\n Now shout the universal song,\n The crowned Lord of all.\n\nWith two disused stanzas omitted, the hymn as it stands differs from the\noriginal chiefly in the last stanza, though in the second the initial\nline is now transposed to read--\n\n Ye chosen seed of Israel's race.\n\nThe fourth stanza now reads--\n\n Let every kindred, every tribe\n On this terrestrial ball\n To Him all majesty ascribe,\n And crown Him Lord of all.\n\nAnd what is now the favorite last stanza is the one added by Dr.\nRippon--\n\n O that with yonder sacred throng\n We at His feet may fall,\n And join the everlasting song,\n And crown Him Lord of all.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nEveryone now calls it \"Old Coronation,\" and it is entitled to the\nadjective by this time, being considerably more than a hundred years\nof age. It was composed in the very year of Perronet's death and one\nwonders just how long the hymn and tune waited before they came\ntogether; for Heaven evidently meant them to be wedded for all time.\nThis is an American opinion, and no reflection on the earlier English\nmelody of \"Miles Lane,\" composed during Perronet's lifetime by William\nShrubsole and published with the words in 1780 in the _Gospel Magazine_.\nThere is also a fine processional tune sung in the English Church to\nPerronet's hymn.\n\nThe author of \"Coronation\" was Oliver Holden, a self-taught musician,\nborn in Shirley, Mass., 1765, and bred to the carpenter's trade. The\nlittle pipe organ on which tradition says he struck the first notes of\nthe famous tune is now in the Historical rooms of the Old State House,\nBoston, placed there by its late owner, Mrs. Fanny Tyler, the old\nmusician's granddaughter. Its tones are as mellow as ever, and the times\nthat \"Coronation\" has been played upon it by admiring visitors would far\noutnumber the notes of its score.\n\nHolden wrote a number of other hymn-tunes, among which \"Cowper,\"\n\"Confidence,\" and \"Concord\" are remembered, but none of them had the\nwings of \"Coronation,\" his American \"Te Deum.\" His first published\ncollection was entitled _The American Harmony_, and this was followed by\nthe _Union Harmony_, and the _Worcester Collection_. He also wrote and\npublished \"Mt. Vernon,\" and several other patriotic anthems, mainly for\nspecial occasions, to some of which he supplied the words. He was no\nhymnist, though he did now and then venture into sacred metre. The new\n_Methodist Hymnal_ preserves a simple four-stanza specimen of his\nexperiments in verse:\n\n They who seek the throne of grace\n Find that throne in every place:\n If we lead a life of prayer\n God is present everywhere.\n\nSacred music, however, was the good man's passion to the last. He died\nin 1844.\n\n\"Such beautiful themes!\" he whispered on his death bed, \"Such beautiful\nthemes! But I can write no more.\"\n\nThe enthusiasm always and everywhere aroused by the singing of\n\"Coronation,\" dates from the time it first went abroad in America in\nits new wedlock of music and words. \"This tune,\" says an accompanying\nnote over the score in the old _Carmina Sacra_, \"was a great favorite\nwith the late Dr. Dwight of Yale College (1798). It was often sung by\nthe college choir, while he, catching, as it were, the music of the\nheavenly world, would join them, and lead with the most ardent\ndevotion.\"\n\n\n\"AWAKE AND SING THE SONG.\"\n\nThis hymn of six stanzas is abridged from a longer one indited by the\nRev. William Hammond, and published in _Lady Huntingdon's Hymn-book_. It\nwas much in use in early Methodist revivals. It appears now as it was\nslightly altered by Rev. Martin Madan--\n\n Awake and sing the song\n Of Moses and the Lamb;\n Join every heart and every tongue\n To praise the Savior's name.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe sixth verse is a variation of one of Watts' hymns, and was added in\nthe _Brethren's Hymn-book_, 1801--\n\n There shall each heart and tongue\n His endless praise proclaim,\n And sweeter voices join the song\n Of Moses and the Lamb.\n\nThe Rev. William Hammond was born Jan. 6, 1719, at Battle, Sussex, Eng.,\nand educated at St. John's College, Cambridge. Early in his ministerial\nlife he was a Calvinistic Methodist, but ultimately joined the\nMoravians. Died in London, Aug. 19, 1793. His collection of _Psalms and\nHymns and Spiritual Songs_ was published in 1745.\n\nThe Rev. Martin Madan, son of Col. Madan, was born 1726. He founded Lock\nHospital, Hyde Park, and long officiated as its chaplain. As a preacher\nhe was popular, and his reputation as a composer of music was\nconsiderable. There is no proof that he wrote any original hymns, but he\namended, pieced and expanded the work of others. Died in 1770.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn has had a variety of musical interpretations. The more modern\npiece is \"St. Philip,\" by Edward John Hopkins, Doctor of Music, born at\nWestminster, London, June 30, 1818. From a member of the Chapel Royal\nboy choir he became organist of the Michtam Church, Surrey, and\nafterwards of the Temple Church, London. Received his Doctor's degree\nfrom the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1882.\n\n[Illustration: Joseph Haydn]\n\n\n\"CROWN HIS HEAD WITH ENDLESS BLESSING.\"\n\nThe writer of this hymn was William Goode, who helped to found the\nEnglish Church Missionary Society, and was for twenty years the\nSecretary of the \"Society for the Relief of Poor Pious Clergymen.\" For\ncelebrating the praise of the Saviour, he seems to have been of like\nspirit and genius with Perronet. He was born in Buckingham, Eng., April\n2, 1762; studied for the ministry and became a curate, successor of\nWilliam Romaine. His spiritual maturity was early, and his habits of\nthought were formed amid associations such as the young Wesleys and\nWhitefield sought. Like them, even in his student days he proved his\naspiration for purer religious life by an evangelical zeal that cost him\nthe ridicule of many of his school-fellows, but the meetings for\nconference and prayer which he organized among them were not unattended,\nand were lasting and salutary in their effect.\n\nJesus was the theme of his life and song, and was his last word. He died\nin 1816.\n\n Crown His head with endless blessing\n Who in God the Father's name\n With compassion never ceasing\n Comes salvation to proclaim.\n Hail, ye saints who know His favor,\n Who within His gates are found.\n Hail, ye saints, th' exalted Saviour,\n Let His courts with praise resound.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Haydn,\" bearing the name of its great composer, is in several important\nhymnals the chosen music for William Goode's devout words. Its strain\nand spirit are lofty and melodious and in entire accord with the pious\npoet's praise.\n\nJoseph Haydn, son of a poor wheelwright, was born 1732, in Rohron, a\nvillage on the borders of Hungary and Austria. His precocity of musical\ntalent was such that he began composing at the age of ten years. Prince\nEsterhazy discovered his genius when he was poor and friendless, and his\nfortune was made. While Music Master for the Prince's Private Chapel\n(twenty years) he wrote many of his beautiful symphonies which placed\nhim among the foremost in that class of music. Invited to England, he\nreceived the Doctor's degree at Oxford, and composed his great oratorio\nof \"The Creation,\" besides his \"Twelve Grand Symphonies,\" and a long\nlist of minor musical works secular and sacred. His invention was\ninexhaustible.\n\nHaydn seems to have been a sincerely pious man. When writing his great\noratorio of \"The Creation\" at sixty-seven years of age, \"I knelt down\nevery day,\" he says, \"and prayed God to strengthen me for my work.\" This\ndaily spiritual preparation was similar to Handel's when he was creating\nhis \"Messiah.\" Change one word and it may be said of sacred music as\ntruly as of astronomy, \"The undevout composer is mad.\"\n\nNear Haydn's death, in Vienna, 1809, when he heard for the last time his\nmagnificent chorus, \"Let there be Light!\" he exclaimed, \"Not mine, not\nmine. It all came to me from above.\"\n\n\n\"NOW TO THE LORD A NOBLE SONG.\"\n\nWhen Watts finished this hymn he had achieved a \"noble song,\" whether he\nwas conscious of it or not; and it deserves a foremost place, where it\ncan help future worshippers in their praise as it has the past. It is\nnot so common in the later hymnals, but it is imperishable, and still\nlater collections will not forget it.\n\n Now to the Lord a noble song,\n Awake my soul, awake my tongue!\n Hosanna to the Eternal Name,\n And all His boundless love proclaim.\n\n See where it shines in Jesus' face,\n The brightest image of His grace!\n God in the person of His Son\n Has all His mightiest works outdone.\n\nA rather finical question has occurred to some minds as to the theology\nof the word \"works\" in the last line, making the second person in the\nGodhead apparently a creature; and in a few hymn-books the previous line\nhas been made to read--\n\n God in the _Gospel_ of His Son.\n\nBut the question is a rhetorical one, and the poet's free\nexpression--here as in hundreds of other cases--has never disturbed the\ngeneral confidence in his orthodoxy.\n\nMontgomery called Watts \"the inventor of hymns in our language,\" and the\ncredit stands practically undisputed, for Watts made a hymn style that\nno human master taught him, and his model has been the ideal one for\nsong worship ever since; and we can pardon the climax when Professor\nCharles M. Stuart speaks of him as \"writer, scholar, thinker and saint,\"\nfor in addition to all the rest he was a very good man.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOld \"Ames\" was for many years the choir favorite, and the words of the\nhymn printed with it in the note-book made the association familiar. It\nwas, and _is_, an appropriate selection, though in later manuals George\nKingsley's \"Ware\" is evidently thought to be better suited to the\nhigh-toned verse. Good old tunes never \"wear out,\" but they do go out of\nfashion.\n\nThe composer of \"Ames,\" Sigismund Neukomm, Chevalier, was born in\nSalzburg, Austria, July 10, 1778, and was a pupil of Haydn. Though not a\ngreat genius, his talents procured him access and even intimacy in the\ncourts of Germany, France, Italy, Portugal and England, and for thirty\nyears he composed church anthems and oratorios with prodigious industry.\nNeukomm's musical productions, numbering no less than one thousand, and\npopular in their day, are, however, mostly forgotten, excepting his\noratorio of \"David\" and one or two hymn-tunes.\n\nGeorge Kingsley, author of \"Ware,\" was born in Northampton, Mass., July\n7, 1811. Died in the Hospital, in the same city, March 14, 1884. He\ncompiled eight books of music for young people and several manuals of\nchurch psalmody, and was for some time a music teacher in Boston, where\nhe played the organ at the Hollis St. church. Subsequently he became\nprofessor of music in Girard College, Philadelphia, and music instructor\nin the public schools, being employed successively as organist (on\nLord's Day) at Dr. Albert Barnes' and Arch St. churches, and finally in\nBrooklyn at Dr. Storrs' Church of the Pilgrims. Returned to Northampton,\n1853.\n\n\n\"EARLY, MY GOD, WITHOUT DELAY.\"\n\nThis and the five following hymns, all by Watts, are placed in immediate\nsuccession, for unity's sake--with a fuller notice of the greatest of\nhymn-writers at the end of the series.\n\n Early, my God, without delay\n I haste to seek Thy face,\n My thirsty spirit faints away\n Without Thy cheering grace.\n\nIn the memories of very old men and women, who sang the fugue music of\nMorgan's \"Montgomery,\" still lingers the second stanza and some of the\n\"spirit and understanding\" with which it used to be rendered in meeting\non Sunday mornings.\n\n So pilgrims on the scorching sand,\n Beneath a burning sky,\n Long for a cooling stream at hand\n And they must drink or die.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nMany of the earlier pieces assigned to this hymn were either too noisy\nor too tame. The best and longest-serving is \"Lanesboro,\" which, with\nits expressive duet in the middle and its soaring final strain of\nharmony, never fails to carry the meaning of the words. It was composed\nby William Dixon, and arranged and adapted by Lowell Mason.\n\nWilliam Dixon, an English composer, was a music engraver and publisher,\nand author also of several glees and anthems. He was born 1750, and died\nabout 1825.\n\nLowell Mason, born in Medfield, Mass., 1792, has been called, not\nwithout reason, \"the father of American choir singing.\" Returning from\nSavannah, Ga., where he spent sixteen years of his younger life as clerk\nin a bank, he located in Boston (1827), being already known there as the\ncomposer of \"The Missionary Hymn.\" He had not neglected his musical\nstudies while living in the South, and it was in Savannah that he made\nthe glorious harmony of that tune.\n\nHe became president of the Handel and Haydn Society, went abroad for\nspecial study, was made Doctor of Music, and collected a store of themes\namong the great models of song to bring home for his future work.\n\nThe Boston Academy of Music was founded by him and what he did for the\nsong-service of the Church in America by his singing schools, and\nmusical conventions, and published manuals, to form and organize the\nchoral branch of divine worship, has no parallel, unless it is Noah\nWebster's service to the English language.\n\nDr. Mason died in Orange, N.J., in 1872.\n\n\n\"SWEET IS THE WORK, MY GOD, MY KING.\"\n\nThis is one of the hymns that helped to give its author the title of\n\"The Seraphic Watts.\"\n\n Sweet is the work, my God, my King\n To praise Thy name, give thanks and sing\n To show Thy love by morning light,\n And talk of all Thy truth at night.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nNo nobler one, and more akin in spirit to the hymn, can be found than\n\"Duke Street,\" Hatton's imperishable choral.\n\nLittle is known of the John Hatton who wrote \"Duke St.\" He was earlier\nby nearly a century than John Liphot Hatton of Liverpool (born in 1809),\nwho wrote the opera of \"Pascal Bruno,\" the cantata of \"Robin Hood\" and\nthe sacred drama of \"Hezekiah.\" The biographical index of the\n_Evangelical Hymnal_ says of John Hatton, the author of \"Duke St.\":\n\"John, of Warrington; afterwards of St. Helens, then resident in Duke\nSt. in the township of Windle; composed several hymn-tunes; died in\n1793.[5] His funeral sermon was preached at the Presbyterian Chapel, St.\nHelens, Dec. 13.\"\n\n[Footnote 5: Tradition says he was killed by being thrown from a\nstage-coach.]\n\n\n\"COME, WE THAT LOVE THE LORD.\"\n\nWatts entitled this hymn \"Heavenly Joy on Earth.\" He could possibly,\nlike Madame Guyon, have written such a hymn in a dungeon, but it is no\nless spiritual for its birth (as tradition will have it) amid the lovely\nscenery of Southampton where he could find in nature \"glory begun\nbelow.\"\n\n Come, we that love the Lord,\n And let our joys be known;\n Join in a song with sweet accord,\n And thus surround the throne.\n\n There shall we see His face,\n And never, never sin;\n There, from the rivers of His grace,\n Drink endless pleasures in.\n\n Children of grace have found\n Glory begun below:\n Celestial fruits on earthly ground\n From faith and hope may grow.\n\nMortality and immortality blend their charms in the next stanza. The\nunfailing beauty of the vision will be dwelt upon with delight so long\nas Christians sing on earth.\n\n The hill of Sion yields\n A thousand sacred sweets,\n Before we reach the heavenly fields,\n Or walk the golden streets.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"St. Thomas\" has often been the interpreter of the hymn, and still\nclings to the words in the memory of thousands.\n\nThe Italian tune of \"Ain\" has more music. It is a fugue piece\n(simplified in some tune-books), and the joyful traverse of its notes\nalong the staff in four-four time, with the momentum of a good choir, is\nexhilarating in the extreme.\n\nCorelli, the composer, was a master violinist, the greatest of his day,\nand wrote a great deal of violin music; and the thought of his glad\ninstrument may have influenced his work when harmonizing the four voices\nof \"Ain.\"\n\nArcangelo Corelli was born at Fusignano, in 1653. He was a sensitive\nartist, and although faultless in Italian music, he was not sure of\nhimself in playing French scores, and once while performing with Handel\n(who resented the slightest error), and once again with Scarlatti,\nleading an orchestra in Naples when the king was present, he made a\nmortifying mistake. He took the humiliation so much to heart that he\nbrooded over it till he died, in Rome, Jan. 18, 1717.\n\nFor revival meetings the modern tune set to \"Come we that love the\nLord,\" by Robert Lowry, should be mentioned. A shouting chorus is\nappended to it, but it has melody and plenty of stimulating motion.\n\nThe Rev. Robert Lowry was born in Philadelphia, March 12, 1826, and\neducated at Lewisburg, Pa. From his 28th year till his death, 1899, he\nwas a faithful and successful minister of Christ, but is more widely\nknown as a composer of sacred music.\n\n\n\"BE THOU EXALTED, O MY GOD.\"\n\nIn this hymn the thought of Watts touches the eternal summits. Taken\nfrom the 57th and 108th Psalms--\n\n Be Thou exalted, O my God,\n Above the heavens where angels dwell;\n Thy power on earth be known abroad\n And land to land Thy wonders tell.\n\n * * * * *\n\n High o'er the earth His mercy reigns,\n And reaches to the utmost sky;\n His truth to endless years remains\n When lower worlds dissolve and die.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nHaydn furnished it out of his chorus of morning stars, and it was\nchristened \"Creation,\" after the name of his great oratorio. It is a\nmarch of trumpets.\n\n\n\"BEFORE JEHOVAH'S AWFUL THRONE.\"\n\nNo one could mistake the style of Watts in this sublime ode. He begins\nwith his foot on Sinai, but flies to Calvary with the angel preacher\nwhom St. John saw in his Patmos vision:\n\n Before Jehovah's awful throne\n Ye nations bow with sacred joy;\n Know that the Lord is God alone;\n He can create and He destroy.\n\n His sovereign power without our aid\n Made us of clay and formed us men,\n And when like wandering sheep we stray,\n He brought us to His fold again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs,\n High as the heaven our voices raise,\n And earth with her ten thousand tongues\n Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise.\n\n\n_TUNE--OLD HUNDRED._\n\nMartin Madan's four-page anthem, \"Denmark,\" has some grand strains in\nit, but it is a tune of florid and difficult vocalization, and is now\nheard only in Old Folks' Concerts.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe Rev. Isaac Watts, D.D., was born at Southampton, Eng., in 1674. His\nfather was a deacon of the Independent Church there, and though not an\nuncultured man himself, he is said to have had little patience with the\nincurable penchant of his boy for making rhymes and verses. We hear\nnothing of the lad's mother, but we can fancy her hand and spirit in the\nindulgence of his poetic tastes as well as in his religious training.\nThe tradition handed down from Dr. Price, a colleague of Watts, relates\nthat at the age of eighteen Isaac became so irritated at the crabbed and\nuntuneful hymns sung at the Nonconformist meetings that he complained\nbitterly of them to his father. The deacon may have felt something as\nDr. Wayland did when a rather \"fresh\" student criticised the Proverbs,\nand hinted that making such things could not be \"much of a job,\" and the\nDoctor remarked, \"Suppose _you_ make a few.\" Possibly there was the same\ngentle sarcasm in the reply of Deacon Watts to his son, \"Make some\nyourself, then.\"\n\nIsaac was in just the mood to take his father at his word, and he\nretired and wrote the hymn--\n\n Behold the glories of the Lamb.\n\nThere must have been a decent tune to carry it, for it pleased the\nworshippers greatly, when it was sung in meeting--and that was the\nbeginning of Isaac Watts' career as a hymnist.\n\nSo far as scholarship was an advantage, the young writer must have been\nwell equipped already, for as early as the entering of his fifth year he\nwas learning Latin, and at nine learning Greek; at eleven, French; and\nat thirteen, Hebrew. From the day of his first success he continued to\nindite hymns for the home church, until by the end of his twenty-second\nyear he had written one hundred and ten, and in the two following years\na hundred and forty-four more, besides preparing himself for the\nministry. No. 7 in the edition of the first one hundred and ten, was\nthat royal jewel of all his lyric work--\n\n When I survey the wondrous cross.\n\nIsaac Watts was ordained pastor of an Independent Church in Mark Lane,\nLondon, 1702, but repeated illness finally broke up his ministry, and\nhe retired, an invalid, to the beautiful home of Sir Thomas Abney at\nTheobaldo, invited, as he supposed, to spend a week, but it was really\nto spend the rest of his life--thirty-six years.\n\nNumbers of his hymns are cited as having biographical or reminiscent\ncolor. The stanza in--\n\n When I can read my title clear,\n\n--which reads in the original copy,--\n\n Should earth against my soul engage\n And _hellish darts be hurled_,\n Then I can smile at _Satan's rage_\n And face a frowning world,\n\n--is said to have been an allusion to Voltaire and his attack upon the\nchurch, while the calm beauty of the harbor within view of his home is\nsupposed to have been in his eye when he composed the last stanza,--\n\n There shall I bathe my weary soul\n In seas of heavenly rest,\n And not a wave of trouble roll\n Across my peaceful breast.\n\nAccording to the record,--\n\n What shall the dying sinner do?\n\n--was one of his \"pulpit hymns,\" and followed a sermon preached from\nRom. 1:16. Another,--\n\n And is this life prolonged to you?\n\n--after a sermon from 1 Cor. 3:22; and another,--\n\n How vast a treasure we possess,\n\n--enforced his text, \"All things are yours.\" The hymn,--\n\n Not all the blood of beasts\n On Jewish altars slain,\n\n--was, as some say, suggested to the writer by a visit to the abattoir\nin Smithfield Market. The same hymn years afterwards, discovered, we are\ntold, in a printed paper wrapped around a shop bundle, converted a\nJewess, and influenced her to a life of Christian faith and sacrifice.\n\nA young man, hardened by austere and minatory sermons, was melted, says\nDr. Belcher, by simply reading,--\n\n Show pity Lord, O Lord, forgive,\n Let a repenting sinner live.\n\n--and became partaker of a rich religious experience.\n\nThe summer scenery of Southampton, with its distant view of the Isle of\nWight, was believed to have inspired the hymnist sitting at a parlor\nwindow and gazing across the river Itchen, to write the stanza--\n\n Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood\n Stand drest in living green;\n So to the Jews old Canaan stood\n While Jordan rolled between.\n\nThe hymn, \"Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb,\" was personal, addressed by\nWatts \"to Lucius on the death of Seneca.\"\n\nA severe heart-trial was the occasion of another hymn. When a young man\nhe proposed marriage to Miss Elizabeth Singer, a much-admired young\nlady, talented, beautiful, and good. She rejected him--kindly but\nfinally. The disappointment was bitter, and in the first shadow of it he\nwrote,--\n\n How vain are all things here below,\n How false and yet how fair.\n\nMiss Singer became the celebrated Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, the spiritual and\npoetic beauty of whose _Meditations_ once made a devotional text-book\nfor pious souls. Of Dr. Watts and his offer of his hand and heart, she\nalways said, \"I loved the jewel, but I did not admire the casket.\" The\npoet suitor was undersized, in habitually delicate health--and not\nhandsome.\n\nBut the good minister and scholar found noble employment to keep his\nmind from preying upon itself and shortening his days. During his long\nthough afflicted leisure he versified the Psalms, wrote a treatise on\n_Logic_, an _Introduction to the Study of Astronomy and Geography_, and\na work _On the Improvement of the Mind_; and died in 1748, at the age of\nseventy-four.\n\n\n\"O FOR A THOUSAND TONGUES TO SING.\"\n\nCharles Wesley, the author of this hymn, took up the harp of Watts when\nthe older poet laid it down. He was born at Epworth, Eng., in 1708, the\nthird son of Rev. Samuel Wesley, and died in London, March 29, 1788. The\nhymn is believed to have been written May 17, 1739, for the anniversary\nof his own conversion:\n\n O for a thousand tongues to sing\n My great Redeemer's praise,\n The glories of my God and King,\n And triumphs of His grace.\n\nThe remark of a fervent Christian friend, Peter Bohler, \"Had I a\nthousand tongues I would praise Christ Jesus with them all,\" struck an\nanswering chord in Wesley's heart, and he embalmed the wish in his\nfluent verse. The third stanza (printed as second in some hymnals), has\nmade language for pardoned souls for at least four generations:\n\n Jesus! the name that calms our fears\n And bids our sorrows cease;\n 'Tis music in the sinner's ears,\n 'Tis life and health and peace.\n\nCharles Wesley was the poet of the soul, and knew every mood. In the\nwords of Isaac Taylor, \"There is no main article of belief ... no moral\nsentiment peculiarly characteristic of the gospel that does not find\nitself ... pointedly and clearly conveyed in some stanza of Charles\nWesley's poetry.\" And it does not dim the lustre of Watts, considering\nthe marvellous brightness, versatility and felicity of his greatest\nsuccessor, to say of the latter, with the _London Quarterly_, that he\n\"was, perhaps, the most gifted minstrel of the modern Church.\"\n\n[Illustration: Charles Wesley]\n\nMost of the hymns of this good man were hymns of experience--and this is\nwhy they are so dear to the Christian heart. The music of eternal life\nis in them. The happy glow of a single line in one of them--\n\n Love Divine, all loves excelling,\n\n--thrills through them all. He led a spotless life from youth to old\nage, and grew unceasingly in spiritual knowledge and sweetness. His\npiety and purity were the weapons that alike humbled his scoffing fellow\nscholars at Oxford, and conquered the wild colliers of Kingwood. With\nhis brother John, through persecution and ridicule, he preached and sang\nthat Divine Love to his countrymen and in the wilds of America, and on\ntheir return to England his quenchless melodies multiplied till they\nmade an Evangelical literature around his name. His hymns--he wrote no\nless than six thousand--are a liturgy not only for the Methodist Church\nbut for English-speaking Christendom.\n\nThe voices of Wesley and Watts cannot be hidden, whatever province of\nChristian life and service is traversed in themes of song, and in these\nchapters they will be heard again and again.\n\nA Watts-and-Wesley Scholarship would grace any Theological Seminary, to\nencourage the study and discussion of the best lyrics of the two great\nGospel bards.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nThe musical mouth-piece of \"O for a thousand tongues,\" nearest to its\nown date, is old \"Azmon\" by Carl Glaser (1734-1829), appearing as No. 1\nin the _New Methodist Hymnal_. Arranged by Lowell Mason, 1830, it is\nstill comparatively familiar, and the flavor of devotion is in its tone\nand style.\n\nHenry John Gauntlett, an English lawyer and composer, wrote a tune for\nit in 1872, noble in its uniform step and time, but scarcely uttering\nthe hymnist's characteristic ardor.\n\nThe tune of \"Dedham,\" by William Gardiner, now venerable but surviving\nby true merit, is not unlike \"Azmon\" in movement and character. Though\nless closely associated with the hymn, as a companion melody it is not\ninappropriate. But whatever the range of vocalization or the dignity of\nswells and cadences, a slow pace of single semibreves or quarters is not\nsuited to Wesley's hymns. They are flights.\n\nProfessor William Gardiner wrote many works on musical subjects early in\nthe last century, and composed vocal harmonies, secular and sacred. He\nwas born in Leicester, Eng., March 5, 1770, and died there Nov. 16,\n1853.\n\nThere is an old-fashioned unction and vigor in the style of\n\"Peterborough\" by Rev. Ralph Harrison (1748-1810) that after all best\nsatisfies the singer who enters heart and soul into the spirit of the\nhymn. _Old Peterborough_ was composed in 1786.\n\n\n\"LORD WITH GLOWING HEART I'D PRAISE THEE.\"\n\nThis was written in 1817 by the author of the \"Star Spangled Banner,\"\nand is a noble American hymn of which the country may well be proud,\nboth because of its merit and for its birth in the heart of a national\npoet who was no less a Christian than a patriot.\n\nFrancis Scott Key, lawyer, was born on the estate of his father, John\nRoss Key, in Frederick, Md., Aug. 1st, 1779; and died in Baltimore, Jan.\n11, 1843. A bronze statue of him over his grave, and another in Golden\nGate Park, San Francisco, represent the nationality of his fame and the\ngratitude of a whole land.\n\nThough a slaveholder by inheritance, Mr. Key deplored the existence of\nhuman slavery, and not only originated a scheme of African colonization,\nbut did all that a model master could do for the chattels on his\nplantation, in compliance with the Scripture command,[6] to lighten\ntheir burdens. He helped them in their family troubles, defended them\ngratuitously in the courts, and held regular Sunday-school services for\nthem.\n\n[Footnote 6: Eph. 6:9, Coloss. 4:1.]\n\nEducated at St. John's College, an active member of the Episcopal\nChurch, he was not only a scholar but a devout and exemplary man.\n\n Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee\n For the bliss Thy love bestows,\n For the pardoning grace that saves me,\n And the peace that from it flows.\n\n Help, O Lord, my weak endeavor;\n This dull soul to rapture raise;\n Thou must light the flame or never\n Can my love be warmed to praise.\n\n Lord, this bosom's ardent feeling\n Vainly would my life express;\n Low before Thy footstool kneeling,\n Deign Thy suppliant's prayer to bless.\n\n Let Thy grace, my soul's chief treasure,\n Love's pure flame within me raise,\n And, since words can never measure,\n Let my life show forth Thy praise.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"St. Chad,\" a choral in D, with a four-bar unison, in the _Evangelical\nHymnal_, is worthy of the hymn. Richard Redhead, the composer, organist\nof the Church of St. Mary Magdalene, Paddington, Eng., was born at\nHarrow, Middlesex, March 1, 1820, and educated at Magdalene College,\nOxford. Graduated Bachelor of Music at Oxford, 1871. He published\n_Laudes Dominae_, a Gregorian Psalter, 1843, a Book of Tunes for the\n_Christian Year_, and is the author of much ritual music.\n\n\n\"HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, LORD GOD ALMIGHTY.\"\n\nThere is nothing so majestic in Protestant hymnology as this Tersanctus\nof Bishop Heber.\n\nThe Rt. Rev. Reginald Heber, son of a clergyman of the same name, was\nborn in Malpas, Cheshire, Eng., April 21st, 1783, and educated at\nOxford. He served the church in Hodnet, Shropshire, for about twenty\nyears, and was then appointed Bishop of Calcutta, E.I. His labors there\nwere cut short in the prime of his life, his death occurring in 1826, at\nTrichinopoly on the 3d of April, his natal month.\n\nHis hymns, numbering fifty-seven, were collected by his widow, and\npublished with his poetical works in 1842.\n\n Holy! holy! holy! Lord God Almighty!\n Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee.\n Holy! holy! holy! merciful and mighty,\n God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity.\n\n Holy! holy! holy! all the saints adore Thee,\n Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;\n Cherubim and seraphim, falling down before Thee,\n Which wert, and art, and evermore shall be.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nGrand as the hymn is, it did not come to its full grandeur of sentiment\nand sound in song-worship till the remarkable music of Dr. John B. Dykes\nwas joined to it. None was ever written that in performance illustrates\nmore admirably the solemn beauty of congregational praise. The name\n\"Nicaea\" attached to the tune means nothing to the popular ear and mind,\nand it is known everywhere by the initial words of the first line.\n\nRev. John Bacchus Dykes, Doctor of Music, was born at\nKingston-upon-Hull, in 1823; and graduated at Cambridge, in 1847. He\nbecame a master of tone and choral harmony, and did much to reform and\nelevate congregational psalmody in England. He was perhaps the first to\ndemonstrate that hymn-tune making can be reduced to a science without\nimpairing its spiritual purpose. Died Jan. 22, 1876.\n\n\n\"LORD OF ALL BEING, THRONED AFAR.\"\n\nThis noble hymn was composed by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, born in\nCambridge, Mass., 1809, and graduated at Harvard University. A physician\nby profession, he was known as a practitioner chiefly in literature,\nbeing a brilliant writer and long the leading poetical wit of America.\nHe was, however, a man of deep religious feeling, and a devout attendant\nat King's Chapel, Unitarian, in Boston where he spent his life. He held\nthe Harvard Professorship of Anatomy and Physiology more than fifty\nyears, but his enduring work is in his poems, and his charming volume,\n_The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table_. Died Jan. 22, 1896.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nHolmes' hymn is sung in some churches to \"Louvan,\" V.C. Taylor's\nadmirable praise tune. Other hymnals prefer with it the music of\n\"Keble,\" one of Dr. Dykes' appropriate and finished melodies.\n\nVirgil Corydon Taylor, an American vocal composer, was born in\nBarkhamstead, Conn., April 2, 1817, died 1891.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nSOME HYMNS OF GREAT WITNESSES.\n\n\nJOHN OF DAMASCUS.\n\n[Greek: Erchesthe, o pistoi,\n Anastaseos Hemera.]\n\nJohn of Damascus, called also St. John of Jerusalem, a theologian and\npoet, was the last but one of the Christian Fathers of the Greek Church.\nThis eminent man was named by the Arabs \"Ibn Mansur,\" Son (Servant?) of\na Conqueror, either in honor of his father Sergius or because it was a\nSemitic translation of his family title. He was born in Damascus early\nin the 8th century, and seems to have been in favor with the Caliph, and\nserved under him many years in some important civil capacity, until,\nretiring to Palestine, he entered the monastic order, and late in life\nwas ordained a priest of the Jerusalem Church. He died in the Convent of\nSt. Sabas near that city about A.D. 780.\n\nHis lifetime appears to have been passed in comparative peace. Mohammed\nhaving died before completing the conquest of Syria, the Moslem rule\nbefore whose advance Oriental Christianity was to lose its first field\nof triumph had not yet asserted its persecuting power in the north. This\ndevout monk, in his meditations at St. Sabas, dwelt much upon the birth\nand the resurrection of Christ, and made hymns to celebrate them. It was\nprobably four hundred years before Bonaventura (?) wrote the Christmas\n\"Adeste Fideles\" of the Latin West that John of Damascus composed his\nGreek \"Adeste Fideles\" for a Resurrection song in Jerusalem.\n\n Come ye faithful, raise the strain\n Of triumphant gladness.\n\n * * * * *\n\n 'Tis the spring of souls today\n Christ hath burst His prison;\n From the frost and gloom of death\n Light and life have risen.\n\nThe nobler of the two hymns preserved to us, (or six stanzas of it)\nthrough eleven centuries is entitled \"The Day of Resurrection.\"\n\n The day of resurrection,\n Earth, tell its joys abroad:\n The Passover of gladness,\n The Passover of God.\n From death to life eternal,\n From earth unto the sky,\n Our Christ hath brought us over,\n With hymns of victory.\n\n Our hearts be pure from evil,\n That we may see aright\n The Lord in rays eternal\n Of resurrection light;\n And, listening to His accents,\n May hear, so calm and plain,\n His own, \"All hail!\" and hearing,\n May raise the victor-strain.\n\n Now let the heavens be joyful,\n Let earth her song begin,\n Let all the world keep triumph,\n All that dwell therein.\n In grateful exultation,\n Their notes let all things blend,\n For Christ the Lord is risen,\n O joy that hath no end!\n\nBoth these hymns of John of Damascus were translated by John Mason\nNeale.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"The Day of Resurrection\" is sung in the modern hymnals to the tune of\n\"Rotterdam,\" composed by Berthold of Tours, born in that city of the\nNetherlands, Dec. 17, 1838. He was educated at the conservatory in\nLeipsic, and later made London his permanent residence, writing both\nvocal and instrumental music. Died 1897. \"Rotterdam\" is a stately,\nsonorous piece and conveys the flavor of the ancient hymn.\n\n\"Come ye faithful\" has for its modern interpreter Sir Arthur Sullivan,\nthe celebrated composer of both secular and sacred works, but best\nknown in hymnody as author of the great Christian march, \"Onward\nChristian Soldiers.\"\n\nHymns are known to have been written by the earlier Greek Fathers,\nEphrem Syrus of Mesopotamia (A.D. 307-373), Basil the Great, Bishop of\nCappadocia (A.D. 329-379) Gregory Nazianzen, Bishop of Constantinople\n(A.D. 335-390) and others, but their fragments of song which have come\ndown to us scarcely rank them among the great witnesses--with the\npossible exception of the last name. An English scholar, Rev. Allen W.\nChatfield, has translated the hymns extant of Gregory Nazianzen. The\nfollowing stanzas give an idea of their quality. The lines are from an\naddress to the Deity:\n\n How, Unapproached! shall mind of man\n Descry Thy dazzling throne,\n And pierce and find Thee out, and scan\n Where Thou dost dwell alone?\n\n Unuttered Thou! all uttered things\n Have had their birth from Thee;\n The One Unknown, from Thee the spring\n Of all we know and see.\n\n And lo! all things abide in Thee\n And through the complex whole,\n Thou spreadst Thine own divinity,\n Thyself of all the Goal.\n\nThis is reverent, but rather philosophical than evangelical, and reminds\nus of the Hymn of Aratus, more than two centuries before Christ was\nborn.\n\n\nST. STEPHEN, THE SABAITE.\n\nThis pious Greek monk, (734-794,) nephew of St. John of Damascus, spent\nhis life, from the age of ten, in the monastery of St. Sabas. His sweet\nhymn, known in Neale's translation,--\n\n Art thou weary, art thou languid,\n Art thou sore distrest?\n Come to Me, saith One, and coming\n Be at rest,\n\n--is still in the hymnals, with the tunes of Dykes, and Sir Henry W.\nBaker (1821-1877), Vicar of Monkland, Herefordshire.\n\n\nKING ROBERT II.\n\n_Veni, Sancte Spiritus._\n\nRobert the Second, surnamed \"Robert the Sage\" and \"Robert the Devout,\"\nsucceeded Hugh Capet, his father, upon the throne of France, about the\nyear 997. He has been called the gentlest monarch that ever sat upon a\nthrone, and his amiability of character poorly prepared him to cope with\nhis dangerous and wily adversaries. His last years were embittered by\nthe opposition of his own sons, and the political agitations of the\ntimes. He died at Melun in 1031, and was buried at St. Denis.\n\nRobert possessed a reflective mind, and was fond of learning and musical\nart. He was both a poet and a musician. He was deeply religious, and,\nfrom unselfish motives, was much devoted to the church.\n\nRobert's hymn, \"Veni, Sancte Spiritus,\" is given below. He himself was a\nchorister; and there was no kingly service that he seemed to love so\nwell. We are told that it was his custom to go to the church of St.\nDenis, and in his royal robes, with his crown upon his head, to direct\nthe choir at matins and vespers, and join in the singing. Few kings have\nleft a better legacy to the Christian church than his own hymn, which,\nafter nearly a thousand years, is still an influence in the world:\n\n Come, Thou Holy Spirit, come,\n And from Thine eternal home\n Shed the ray of light divine;\n Come, Thou Father of the poor,\n Come, Thou Source of all our store,\n Come, within our bosoms shine.\n\n Thou of Comforters the best,\n Thou the soul's most welcome Guest,\n Sweet Refreshment here below!\n In our labor Rest most sweet,\n Grateful Shadow from the heat,\n Solace in the midst of woe!\n\n Oh, most blessed Light Divine,\n Shine within these hearts of Thine,\n And our inmost being fill;\n If Thou take Thy grace away,\n Nothing pure in man will stay,\n All our good is turned to ill.\n\n Heal our wounds; our strength renew\n On our dryness pour Thy dew;\n Wash the stains of guilt away!\n Bend the stubborn heart and will,\n Melt the frozen, warm the chill,\n Guide the steps that go astray.\n\n _Neale's Translation_.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe metre and six-line stanza, being uniform with those of \"Rock of\nAges,\" have tempted some to borrow \"Toplady\" for this ancient hymn, but\nHastings' tune would refuse to sing other words; and, besides, the\nalternate rhymes would mar the euphony. Not unsuitable in spirit are\nseveral existing tunes of the right measure--like \"Nassau\" or \"St.\nAthanasius\"--but in truth the \"Veni, Sancte Spiritus\" in English waits\nfor its perfect setting. Dr. Ray Palmer's paraphrase of it in\nsixes-and-fours, to fit \"Olivet,\"--\n\n Come, Holy Ghost in love, etc.\n\n--is objectionable both because the word Ghost is an archaism in\nChristian worship and more especially because Dr. Palmer's altered\nversion usurps the place of his own hymn. \"Olivet\" with \"My faith looks\nup to Thee\" makes as inviolable a case of psalmodic monogamy as\n\"Toplady\" with \"Rock of Ages.\"\n\n\nST. FULBERT.\n\n\"_Chori Cantores Hierusalem Novae._\"\n\nSt. Fulbert's hymn is a worthy companion of Perronet's \"Coronation\"--if,\nindeed, it was not its original prompter--as King Robert's great litany\nwas the mother song of Watts' \"Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove;\" and\nthe countless other sacred lyrics beginning with similar words. As the\ntranslation stands in the Church of England, there are six stanzas now\nsung, though in America but four appear, and not in the same sequence.\nThe first four of the six in their regular succession are as follows:\n\n Ye choirs of New Jerusalem,\n Your sweetest notes employ,\n The Paschal victory to hymn\n In strains of holy joy.\n\n For Judah's Lion bursts His chains,\n Crushing the serpent's head;\n And cries aloud, through death's domains\n To wake the imprisoned dead.\n\n Devouring depths of hell their prey\n At His command restore;\n His ransomed hosts pursue their way\n Where Jesus goes before.\n\n Triumphant in His glory now,\n To Him all power is given;\n To Him in one communion bow\n All saints in earth and heaven.\n\nBishop Fulbert, known in the Roman and in the Protestant ritualistic\nchurches as St. Fulbert of Chartres, was a man of brilliant and\nversatile mind, and one of the most eminent prelates of his time. He was\na contemporary of Robert II, and his intimate friend, continuing so\nafter the Pope (Gregory V.) excommunicated the king for marrying a\ncousin, which was forbidden by the canons of the church.\n\nFulbert was for some time head of the Theological College at Chartres, a\ncathedral town of France, anciently the capital of Celtic Gaul, and\nafterwards he was consecrated as Bishop of that diocese. He died about\n1029.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe modern tone-interpreter of Fulbert's hymn bears the name \"La Spezia\"\nin some collections, and was composed by James Taylor about the time the\nhymn was translated into English by Robert Campbell. Research might\ndiscover the ancient tune--for the hymn is said to have been sung in the\nEnglish church during Fulbert's lifetime--but the older was little\nlikely to be the better music. \"La Spezia\" is a choral of enlivening but\neasy chords, and a tread of triumph in its musical motion that suits the\nmarch of \"Judah's Lion\":\n\n His ransomed hosts pursue their way\n Where Jesus goes before.\n\nJames Taylor, born 1833, is a Doctor of Music, organist of the\nUniversity of Oxford and Director of the Oxford Philharmonic Society.\n\nRobert Campbell, the translator, was a Scotch lawyer, born in Edinburgh,\nwho besides his work as an advocate wrote original hymns, and in other\nways exercised a natural literary gift. He compiled the excellent\nHymnal of the diocese of St. Andrews, and this was his best work. The\ndate of his death is given as Dec. 29, 1868.\n\n\nTHOMAS OF CELANO.\n\n Dies irae! dies illa,\n Solvet saeclum in favilla,\n Teste David cum Sybilla.\n\n Day of wrath! that day of burning,\n All the world to ashes turning,\n Sung by prophets far discerning.\n\nLatin ecclesiastical poetry reached its high water mark in that awful\nhymn. The solitaire of its sphere and time in the novelty of its\nrhythmic triplets, it stood a wonder to the church and hierarchy\naccustomed to the slow spondees of the ancient chant. There could be\nsuch a thing as a trochaic hymn!--and majestic, too!\n\nIt was a discovery that did not stale. The compelling grandeur of the\npoem placed it distinct and alone, and the very difficulty of staffing\nit for vocal and instrumental use gave it a zest, and helped to keep it\nunique through the ages.\n\nLatin hymnody and hymnography, appealing to the popular ear and heart,\nhad gradually substituted accent for quantity in verse; for the common\npeople could never be moved by a Christian song in the prosody of the\nclassics. The religion of the cross, with the song-preaching of its\npropagandists, created medieval Latin and made it a secondary\nclassic--mother of four anthem languages of Western and Southern Europe.\nIts golden age was the 12th and 13th centuries. The new and more\nflexible school of speech and music in hymn and tune had perfected\nrhythmic beauty and brought in the winsome assonance of rhyme.\n\n[Illustration: Dr. Martin Luther]\n\nThe \"Dies Irae\" was born, it is believed, about the year 1255. Its\nauthorship has been debated, but competent testimony assures us that the\noriginal draft of the great poem was found in a box among the effects of\nThomas di Celano after his death. Thomas--surnamed Thomas of Celano from\nhis birthplace, the town of Celano in the province of Aquila, Southern\nItaly--was the pupil, friend and co-laborer of St. Francis of Assisi,\nand wrote his memoirs. He is supposed to have died near the end of the\n13th century. That he wrote the sublime judgment song there is now\npractically no question.\n\nThe label on the discovered manuscript would suggest that the writer did\nnot consider it either a hymn or a poem. Like the inspired prophets he\nhad meditated--and while he was musing the fire burned. The only title\nhe wrote over it was \"_Prosa de mortuis_,\" Prosa (or prosa oratio)--from\n_prorsus_, \"straight forward\"--appears here in the truly conventional\nsense it was beginning to bear, but not yet as the antipode of \"poetry.\"\nThe modest author, unconscious of the magnitude of his work, called it\nsimply \"Plain speech concerning the dead.\"[7]\n\n[Footnote 7: \"Proses\" were original passages introduced into\necclesiastical chants in the 10th century. During and after the 11th\ncentury they were called \"Sequences\" (i.e. _following_ the \"Gospel\" in\nthe liturgy), and were in metrical form, having a prayerful tone.\n\"Sequentia pro defunctis\" was the later title of the \"Dies Irae.\"]\n\nThe hymn is much too long to quote entire, but can be found in _Daniel's\nThesaurus_ in any large public library. As to the translations of it,\nthey number hundreds--in English and German alone, and Italy, Spain and\nPortugal have their vernacular versions--not to mention the Greek and\nRussian and even the Hebrew. A few stanzas follow, with their renderings\ninto English (always imperfect) selected almost at random:\n\n Quantus tremor est futurus\n Quando Judex est venturus,\n Cuncta stricte discussurus!\n\n Tuba mirum spargens sonum\n Per sepulcra regionum,\n Coget omnes ante thronum!\n\n O the dread, the contrite kneeling\n When the Lord, in Judgment dealing,\n Comes each hidden thing revealing!\n\n When the trumpet's awful tone\n Through the realms sepulchral blown,\n Summons all before the Throne!\n\nThe solemn strength and vibration of these tremendous trilineals suffers\nno general injury by the variant readings--and there are a good many. As\na sample, the first stanza was changed by some canonical redactor to get\nrid of the heathen word Sybilla, and the second line was made the\nthird:\n\n Dies Irae, dies illa\n Crucis expandens vexilla,\n Solvet saeclum in favilla.\n\n Day of wrath! that day foretold,\n With the cross-flag wide unrolled,\n Shall the world in fire enfold!\n\nIn some readings the original \"in favilla\" is changed to \"_cum_\nfavilla,\" \"_with_ ashes\" instead of \"in ashes\"; and \"Teste Petro\" is\nsubstituted for \"Teste David.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe varieties of music set to the \"Hymn of Judgment\" in the different\nsections and languages of Christendom during seven hundred years are\nprobably as numerous as the pictures of the Holy Family in Christian\nart. It is enough to say that one of the best at hand, or, at least,\naccessible, is the solemn minor melody of Dr. Dykes in William Henry\nMonk's _Hymns Ancient and Modern_. It was composed about the middle of\nthe last century. Both the _Evangelical_ and _Methodist Hymnals_ have\nDean Stanley's translation of the hymn, the former with thirteen stanzas\n(six-line) to a D minor of John Stainer, and the latter to a C major of\nTimothy Matthews. The _Plymouth Hymnal_ has seventeen of the trilineal\nstanzas, by an unknown translator, to Ferdinand Hiller's tune in F\nminor, besides one verse to another F minor--hymn and tune both\nnameless.\n\nAll the composers above named are musicians of fame. John Stainer,\norganist of St. Paul's Cathedral, was a Doctor of Music and Chevalier of\nthe Legion of Honor, and celebrated for his works in sacred music, to\nwhich he mainly devoted his time. He was born June 6, 1840. He died\nMarch 31, 1901.\n\nRev. Timothy Richard Matthews, born at Colmworth, Eng., Nov. 20, 1826,\nis a clergyman of the Church of England, incumbent of a Lancaster charge\nto which he was appointed by Queen Alexandra.\n\nFerdinand Hiller, born 1811 at Frankfort-on-the-Main, of Hebrew\nparentage, was one of Germany's most eminent musicians. For many years\nhe was Chapel Master at Cologne, and organized the Cologne Conservatory.\nHis compositions are mostly for instrumental performance, but he wrote\ncantatas, motets, male choruses, and two oratorios, one on the\n\"Destruction of Jerusalem.\" Died May 10, 1855.\n\nThe Very Rev. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, Dean of Westminster, was an author\nand scholar whom all sects of Christians delighted to honor. His\nwritings on the New Testament and his published researches in Palestine,\nmade him an authority in Biblical study, and his contributions to sacred\nliterature were looked for and welcomed as eagerly as a new hymn by\nBonar or a new poem by Tennyson. Dean Stanley was born in 1815, and died\nJuly 18th, 1881.\n\n\nTHOMAS A KEMPIS.\n\nThomas a Kempis, sub-prior of the Convent of St. Agnes, was born at\nHamerkin, Holland, about the year 1380, and died at Zwoll, 1471. This\npious monk belonged to an order called the \"Brethren of the Common Life\"\nfounded by Gerard de Groote, and his fame rests entirely upon his one\nbook, the _Imitation of Christ_, which continues to be printed as a\nreligious classic, and is unsurpassed as a manual of private devotion.\nHis monastic life--as was true generally of the monastic life of the\nmiddle ages--was not one of useless idleness. The Brethren taught school\nand did mechanical work. Besides, before the invention of printing had\nbeen perfected and brought into common service, the multiplication of\nbooks was principally the work of monkish pens. Kempis spent his days\ncopying the Bible and good books--as well as in exercises of devotion\nthat promoted religious calm.\n\nHis idea of heaven, and the idea of his order, was expressed in that\nclause of John's description of the City of God, Rev. 22:3, \"_and His\nservants shall serve Him_.\" Above all other heavenly joys that was his\nfavorite thought. We can well understand that the pious quietude wrought\nin his mind and manners by his habit of life made him a saint in the\neyes of the people. The frontispiece of one edition of his _Imitatio\nChristi_ pictures him as being addressed before the door of a convent\nby a troubled pilgrim,--\n\n \"O where is peace?--for thou its paths hast trod,\"\n\n--and his answer completes the couplet,--\n\n \"In poverty, retirement, and with God.\"\n\nOf all that is best in inward spiritual life, much can be learned from\nthis inspired Dutchman. He wrote no hymns, but in his old age he\ncomposed a poem on \"Heaven's Joys,\" which is sometimes called \"Thomas a\nKempis' Hymn\":\n\n High the angel choirs are raising\n Heart and voice in harmony;\n The Creator King still praising\n Whom in beauty there they see.\n\n Sweetest strains from soft harps stealing,\n Trumpets' notes of triumph pealing,\n Radiant wings and white stoles gleaming\n Up the steps of glory streaming;\n Where the heavenly bells are ringing;\n \"Holy! holy! holy!\" singing\n To the mighty Trinity!\n \"Holy! holy! holy!\" crying,\n For all earthly care and sighing\n In that city cease to be!\n\nThese lines are not in the hymnals of today--and whether they ever found\ntheir way into choral use in ancient times we are not told. Worse poetry\nhas been sung--and more un-hymnlike. Some future composer will make a\ntune to the words of a Christian who stood almost in sight of his\nhundredth year--and of the eternal home he writes about.\n\n\nMARTIN LUTHER.\n\n\"_Ein Feste Burg Ist Unser Gott._\"\n\nOf Martin Luther Coleridge said, \"He did as much for the Reformation by\nhis hymns as he did by his translation of the Bible.\" The remark is so\ntrue that it has become a commonplace.\n\nThe above line--which may be seen inscribed on Luther's tomb at\nWittenberg--is the opening sentence and key-note of the Reformer's\ngrandest hymn. The forty-sixth Psalm inspired it, and it is in harmony\nwith sublime historical periods from its very nature, boldness, and\nsublimity. It was written, according to Welles, in the memorable year\nwhen the evangelical princes delivered their protest at the Diet of\nSpires, from which the word and the meaning of the word \"Protestant\" is\nderived. \"Luther used often to sing it in 1530, while the Diet of\nAugsburg was sitting. It soon became the favorite psalm with the people.\nIt was one of the watchwords of the Reformation, cheering armies to\nconflict, and sustaining believers in the hours of fiery trial.\"\n\n\"After Luther's death, Melancthon, his affectionate coadjutor, being one\nday at Weimar with his banished friends, Jonas and Creuziger, heard a\nlittle maid singing this psalm in the street, and said, 'Sing on, my\nlittle girl, you little know whom you comfort:'\"\n\n A mighty fortress is our God,\n A bulwark never failing;\n Our helper He, amid the flood\n Of mortal ills prevailing.\n For still our ancient foe\n Doth seek to work us woe;\n His craft and power are great,\n And, armed with cruel hate,\n On earth is not his equal.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The Prince of Darkness grim--\n We tremble not for him:\n His rage we can endure,\n For lo! his doom is sure,\n One little word shall fell him.\n\n That word above all earthly powers--\n No thanks to them--abideth;\n The Spirit and the gifts are ours,\n Through Him who with us sideth.\n Let goods and kindred go,\n This mortal life also;\n The body they may kill,\n God's truth abideth still,\n His kingdom is for ever.\n\nMartin Luther was born in Eisleben, in Saxony, Nov. 10, 1483. He was\neducated at the University of Erfurth, and became an Augustinian monk\nand Professor of Philosophy and Divinity in the University of\nWittenberg. In 1517 he composed and placarded his ninety-five Theses\ncondemning certain practices of the Romish Church and three years later\nthe Pope published a bull excommunicating him, which he burnt openly\nbefore a sympathetic multitude in Wittenberg. His life was a stormy one,\nand he was more than once in mortal danger by reason of his antagonism\nto the papal authority, but he found powerful patrons, and lived to see\nthe Reformation an organized fact. He died in his birthplace, Eisleben,\nFeb. 18th, 1546.\n\nThe translation of the \"Ein feste burg,\" given above, in part, is by\nRev. Frederick Henry Hedge, D.D., born in Cambridge, March 1805, a\ngraduate of Harvard, and formerly minister of the Unitarian Church in\nBangor, Me. Died, 1890.\n\nLuther wrote thirty-six hymns, to some of which he fitted his own music,\nfor he was a musician and singer as well as an eloquent preacher. The\ntune in which \"Ein feste Burg\" is sung in the hymnals, was composed by\nhimself. The hymn has also a noble rendering in the music of Sebastian\nBach, 8-4 time, found in _Hymns Ancient and Modern_.\n\n\nBARTHOLOMEW RINGWALDT.\n\n\"Great God, What Do I See and Hear?\"\n\nThe history of this hymn is somewhat indefinite, though common consent\nnow attributes to Ringwaldt the stanza beginning with the above line.\nThe imitation of the \"Dies Irae\" in German which was first in use was\nprinted in Jacob Klug's \"_Gesangbuch_\" in 1535. Ringwaldt's hymn of the\nLast Day, also inspired from the ancient Latin original, appears in his\n_Handbuchlin_ of 1586, but does not contain this stanza. The first line\nis, \"The awful Day will surely come,\" (Es ist gewisslich an der Zeit).\nNevertheless through the more than two hundred years that the hymn has\nbeen translated and re-translated, and gone through inevitable\nrevisions, some vital identity in the spirit and tone of the one\nseven-line stanza has steadily connected it with Ringwaldt's name.\nApparently it is the single survivor of a great lost hymn--edited and\naltered out of recognition. But its power evidently inspired the added\nverses, as we have them. Dr. Collyer found it, and, regretting that it\nwas too short to sing in public service, composed stanzas 2d, 3d and\n4th. It is likely that Collyer first met with it in _Psalms and Hymns\nfor Public and Private Devotion_, Sheffield 1802, where it appeared\nanonymously. So far as known this was its first publication in English.\nRingwaldt's stanza and two of Collyer's are here given:\n\n Great God, what do I see and hear!\n The end of things created!\n The Judge of mankind doth appear\n On clouds of glory seated.\n The trumpet sounds, the graves restore\n The dead which they contained before;\n Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.\n\n The dead in Christ shall first arise\n At the last trumpet sounding,\n Caught up to meet Him in the skies,\n With joy their Lord surrounding.\n No gloomy fears their souls dismay\n His presence sheds eternal day\n On those prepared to meet Him.\n\n Far over space to distant spheres\n The lightnings are prevailing\n Th' ungodly rise, and all their tears\n And sighs are unavailing.\n The day of grace is past and gone;\n They shake before the Judge's Throne\n All unprepared to meet Him.\n\nBartholomew Ringwaldt, pastor of the Lutheran Church of Longfeld,\nPrussia, was born in 1531, and died in 1599. His hymns appear in a\ncollection entitled _Hymns for the Sundays and Festivals of the Whole\nYear_.\n\nRev. William Bengo Collyer D.D., was born at Blackheath near London,\nApril 14, 1782, educated at Homerton College and settled over a\nCongregational Church in Peckham. In 1812 he published a book of hymns,\nand in 1837 a _Service Book_ to which he contributed eighty-nine hymns.\nHe died Jan, 9, 1854.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nProbably it was the customary singing of Ringwaldt's hymn (in Germany)\nto Luther's tune that gave it for some time the designation of \"Luther's\nHymn,\" the title by which the music is still known--an air either\ncomposed or adapted by Luther, and rendered perhaps unisonously or with\nextempore chords. It was not until early in the last century that\nVincent Novello wrote to it the noble arrangement now in use. It is a\nstrong, even-time harmony with lofty tenor range, and very impressive\nwith full choir and organ or the vocal volume of a congregation. In\n_Cheetham's Psalmody_ is it written with a trumpet obligato.\n\nVincent Novello, born in London, Sept. 6, 1781, the intimate friend of\nLamb, Shelley, Keats, Hunt and Hazlitt, was a professor of music who\nattained great eminence as an organist and composer of hymn-tunes and\nsacred pieces. He was the founder of the publishing house of Novello and\nEwer, and father of a famous musical family. Died at Nice, Aug. 9, 1861.\n\n\nST. FRANCIS XAVIER.\n\n\"_O Deus, Ego Amo Te._\"\n\nFrancis Xavier, the celebrated Jesuit missionary, called \"The Apostle of\nthe Indies,\" was a Spaniard, born in 1506. While a student in Paris he\nmet Ignatius Loyola, and joined him in the formation of the new \"Society\nfor the Propagation of the Faith.\" He was sent out on a mission to the\nEast Indies and Japan, and gave himself to the work with a martyr's\ndevotion. The stations he established in Japan were maintained more than\na hundred years. He died in China, Dec. 1552.\n\nHis hymn, some time out of use, is being revived in later singing-books\nas expressive of the purest and highest Christian sentiment:\n\n O Deus, ego amo Te.\n Nec amo Te, ut salves me,\n Aut quia non amantes Te\n AEterno punis igne.\n\n My God, I love Thee--not because\n I hope for heaven thereby;\n Nor yet because who love Thee not\n Must burn eternally.\n\nAfter recounting Christ's vicarious sufferings as the chief claim to His\ndisciples' unselfish love, the hymn continues,--\n\n Cur igitur non amem Te,\n O Jesu amantissime!\n Non, ut in coelo salves me,\n Aut in aeternum damnes me.\n\n Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,\n Should I not love Thee well?\n Not for the sake of winning heaven,\n Nor of escaping hell;\n\n Not with the hope of gaining aught,\n Nor seeking a reward,\n But as Thyself hast loved me,\n Oh, ever-loving Lord!\n\n E'en so I love Thee, and will love,\n And in Thy praise will sing;\n Solely because Thou art my God\n And my eternal King.\n\nThe translation is by Rev. Edward Caswall, 1814-1878, a priest in the\nChurch of Rome. Besides his translations, he published the _Lyra\nCatholica_, the _Masque of Mary_, and several other poetical works.\n(Page 101.)\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"St. Bernard\"--apparently so named because originally composed to\nCaswall's translation of one of Bernard of Clairvaux's hymns--is by\nJohn Richardson, born in Preston, Eng., Dec. 4, 1817, and died there\nApril 13, 1879. He was an organist in Liverpool, and noted as a composer\nof glees, but was the author of several sacred tunes.\n\n\nSIR WALTER RALEIGH.\n\n\"Give Me My Scallop-Shell of Quiet.\"\n\nFew of the hymns of the Elizabethan era survive, though the Ambrosian\nMidnight Hymn, \"Hark, 'tis the Midnight Cry,\" and the hymns of St.\nBernard and Bernard of Cluny, are still tones in the church, and the\nreligious poetry of Sir Walter Raleigh comes down to us associated with\nthe history of his brilliant, though tragic career. The following poem\nhas some fine lines in the quaint English style of the period, and was\ncomposed by Sir Walter during his first imprisonment:\n\n Give me my scallop-shell of quiet,\n My staff of faith to walk upon,\n My scrip of joy--immortal diet--\n My bottle of salvation,\n My gown of glory, hope's true gage--\n And thus I take my pilgrimage.\n\n Blood must be my body's balmer,\n While my soul, like faithful palmer,\n Travelleth toward the land of heaven;\n Other balm will not be given.\n\n Over the silver mountains\n Where spring the nectar fountains,\n There will I kiss the bowl of bliss,\n And drink my everlasting fill,\n Upon every milken hill;\n My soul will be a-dry before,\n But after that will thirst no more.\n\nThe musings of the unfortunate but high-souled nobleman in expectation\nof ignominious death are interesting and pathetic, but they have no\nclaim to a tune, even if they were less rugged and unmetrical. But the\npoem stands notable among the pious witnesses.\n\n\nMARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.\n\n\"_O Domine Deus, Speravi in Te._\"\n\nThis last passionate prayer of the unhappy Mary Stuart just before her\nexecution--in a language which perhaps flowed from her pen more easily\nthan even her English or French--is another witness of supplicating\nfaith that struggles out of darkness with a song. In her extremity the\ndevoted Catholic forgets her petitions to the Virgin, and comes to\nChrist:\n\n O Domine Deus, Speravi in Te;\n O care mi Jesu, nunc libera me!\n In dura catena, in misera poena\n Desidero Te!\n Languendo, gemendo, et genuflectendo\n Adoro, imploro ut liberes me!\n\n My Lord and my God! I have trusted in Thee;\n O Jesus, my Saviour belov'd, set me free:\n In rigorous chains, in piteous pains,\n I am longing for Thee!\n In weakness appealing, in agony kneeling,\n I pray, I beseech Thee, O Lord, set me free!\n\nOne would, at first thought, judge this simple but eloquent cry worthy\nof an appropriate tone-expression--to be sung by prison evangelists like\nthe Volunteers of America, to convicts in the jails and penitentiaries.\nBut its special errand and burden are voiced so literally that hardened\nhearers would probably misapply it--however sincerely the petitioner\nherself meant to invoke spiritual rather than temporal deliverance. The\nhymn, if we may call it so, is _too_ literal. Possibly at some time or\nother it may have been set to music but not for ordinary choir service.\n\n\nSAMUEL RUTHERFORD.\n\n The sands of time are sinking,\n\n * * * * *\n\n But, glory, glory dwelleth\n In Immanuel's Land.\n\nThis hymn is biographical, but not autobiographical. Like the discourses\nin Herodotus and Plutarch, it is the voice of the dead speaking through\nthe sympathetic genius of the living after long generations. The strong,\nstern Calvinist of 1636 in Aberdeen was not a poet, but he bequeathed\nhis spirit and life to the verse of a poet of 1845 in Melrose. Anne Ross\nCousin read his two hundred and twenty letters written during a two\nyears' captivity for his fidelity to the purer faith, and studied his\nwhole history and experience till her soul took his soul's place and\nfelt what he felt. Her poem of nineteen stanzas (152 lines) is the voice\nof Rutherford the Covenanter, with the prolixity of his manner and age\nsweetened by his triumphant piety, and that is why it belongs with the\n_Hymns of Great Witnesses_. The three or four stanzas still occasionally\nprinted and sung are only recalled to memory by the above three lines.\n\nSamuel Rutherford was born in Nisbet Parish, Scotland, in 1600. His\nsettled ministry was at Anworth, in Galloway--1630-1651--with a break\nbetween 1636 and 1638, when Charles I. angered by his anti-prelatical\nwritings, silenced and banished him. Shut up in Aberdeen, but allowed,\nlike Paul in Rome, to live \"in his own hired house\" and write letters,\nhe poured out his heart's love in Epistles to his Anworth flock and to\nthe Non-conformists of Scotland. When his countrymen rose against the\nattempted imposition of a new holy Romish service-book on their\nchurches, he escaped to his people, and soon after appeared in Edinburgh\nand signed the covenant with the assembled ministers. Thirteen years\nlater, after Cromwell's death and the accession of Charles II. the wrath\nof the prelates fell on him at St. Andrews, where the Presbytery had\nmade him rector of the college. The King's decree indicted him for\ntreason, stripped him of all his offices, and would have forced him to\nthe block had he not been stricken with his last sickness. When the\nofficers came to take him he said, \"I am summoned before a higher Judge\nand Judicatory, and I am behooved to attend them.\" He died soon after,\nin the year 1661.\n\nThe first, and a few other of the choicest stanzas of the hymn inspired\nby his life and death are here given:\n\n The sands of time are sinking,\n The dawn of heaven breaks,\n The summer morn I've sighed for--\n The fair, sweet morn--awakes.\n Dark, dark hath been the midnight,\n But dayspring is at hand;\n And glory, glory dwelleth\n In Immanuel's land.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Oh! well it is for ever--\n Oh! well for evermore:\n My nest hung in no forest\n Of all this death-doomed shore;\n Yea, let this vain world vanish,\n As from the ship the strand,\n While glory, glory dwelleth\n In Immanuel's land.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The little birds of Anworth--\n I used to count them blest;\n Now beside happier altars\n I go to build my nest;\n O'er these there broods no silence\n No graves around them stand;\n For glory deathless dwelleth\n In Immanuel's land.\n\n I have borne scorn and hatred,\n I have borne wrong and shame,\n Earth's proud ones have reproached me\n For Christ's thrice blessed name.\n Where God's seals set the fairest,\n They've stamped their foulest brand;\n But judgment shines like noonday\n In Immanuel's land.\n\n They've summoned me before them,\n But there I may not come;\n My Lord says, \"Come up hither;\"\n My Lord says, \"Welcome home;\"\n My King at His white throne\n My presence doth command,\n Where glory, glory dwelleth,\n In Immanuel's land.\n\nA reminiscence of St. Paul in his second Epistle to Timothy (chap. 4)\ncomes with the last two stanzas.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe tender and appropriate choral in B flat, named \"Rutherford\" was\ncomposed by D'Urhan, a French musician, probably a hundred years ago. It\nwas doubtless named by those who long afterwards fitted it to the words,\nand knew whose spiritual proxy the lady stood who indited the hymn. It\nis reprinted in Peloubet's _Select Songs_, and in the _Coronation\nHymnal_. Naturally in the days of the hymn's more frequent use people\nbecame accustomed to calling \"The sands of time are sinking,\"\n\"Rutherford's Hymn.\" Rutherford's own words certainly furnished the\nmemorable refrain with its immortal glow and gladness. One of his joyful\nexclamations as he lay dying of his lingering disease was, \"Glory\nshineth in Immanuel's Land!\"\n\nChretien (Christian) Urhan, or D'Urhan, was born at Montjoie, France,\nabout 1788, and died, in Paris, 1845. He was a noted violin-player, and\ncomposer, also, of vocal and instrumental music.\n\nMrs. Anne Ross (Cundell) Cousin, daughter of David Ross Cundell, M.D.,\nand widow of Rev. William Cousin of the Free church of Scotland, was\nborn in Melrose (?), 1824. She wrote many poems, most of which are\nbeautiful meditations rather than lyrics suitable for public song. Her\n\"Rutherford Hymn\" was first published in the _Christian Treasury_, 1857.\n\n\nGUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.\n\n\"_Verzage Nicht Du Hauflein Klein._\"\n\nThe historian tells us that before the battle of Lutzen, during the\nThirty Years' War (1618-1648), King Gustavus of Sweden, in the thick fog\nof an autumn morning, with the Bohemian and Austrian armies of Emperor\nFerdinand in front of him, knelt before his troops, and his whole army\nknelt with him in prayer. Then ten thousand voices and the whole concert\nof regimental bands burst forth in this brave song:\n\n Fear not, O little flock, the foe\n Who madly seeks your overthrow,\n Dread not his rage and power:\n What though your courage sometimes faints,\n His seeming triumph o'er God's saints\n Lasts but a little hour.\n\n Be of good cheer, your cause belongs\n To Him who can avenge your wrongs;\n Leave it to Him, our Lord:\n Though hidden yet from all our eyes,\n He sees the Gideon who shall rise\n To save us and His word.\n\n As true as God's own word is true,\n Nor earth nor hell with all their crew,\n Against us shall prevail:\n A jest and by-word they are grown;\n God is with us, we are His own,\n Our victory cannot fail.\n\n Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer!\n Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare,\n Fight for us once again:\n So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise\n A mighty chorus to Thy praise,\n World without end. Amen.\n\nThe army of Gustavus moved forward to victory as the fog lifted; but at\nthe moment of triumph a riderless horse came galloping back to the camp.\nIt was the horse of the martyred King.\n\nThe battle song just quoted--next to Luther's \"Ein feste Burg\" the most\nfamous German hymn--has always since that day been called \"Gustavus\nAdolphus' Hymn\"; and the mingled sorrow and joy of the event at Lutzen\nnamed it also \"King Gustavus' Swan Song.\" Gustavus Adolphus did not\nwrite hymns. He could sing them, and he could make them historic--and it\nwas this connection that identified him with the famous battle song. Its\nauthor was the Rev. Johan Michael Altenburg, a Lutheran clergyman, who\ncomposed apparently both hymn and tune on receiving news of the king's\nvictory at Leipsic a year before.\n\nGustavus Adolphus was born in 1594. His death on the battlefield\noccurred Nov. 5, 1632--when he was in the prime of his manhood. He was\none of the greatest military commanders in history, besides being a\ngreat ruler and administrator, and a devout Christian. He was, during\nthe Thirty Years' War (until his untimely death), the leading champion\nof Protestantism in Europe.\n\nThe English translator of the battle song was Miss Catherine Winkworth,\nborn in London, Sept. 13, 1827. She was an industrious and successful\ntranslator of German hymns, contributing many results of her work to two\nEnglish editions of the _Lyra Germania_, to the _Church Book of\nEngland_, and to _Christian Singers of Germany_. She died in 1878.\n\nThe tune of \"Ravendale\" by Walter Stokes (born 1847) is the best modern\nrendering of the celebrated hymn.\n\n\nPAUL GERHARDT.\n\n\"_Befiehl Du Deine Wege._\"\n\nPaul Gerhardt was one of those minstrels of experience who are--\n\n \"Cradled into poetry by wrong,\n And learn in suffering what they teach in song.\"\n\nHe was a graduate of that school when he wrote his \"Hymn of Trust:\"\n\n Commit thou all thy griefs\n And ways into His hands;\n To His sure trust and tender care\n Who earth and heaven commands.\n\n Thou on the Lord rely,\n So, safe, shalt thou go on;\n Fix on His work thy steadfast eye,\n So shall thy work be done.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Give to the winds thy fears;\n Hope, and be undismayed;\n God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears,\n He shall lift up thy head.\n\n Through waves and clouds and storms\n He gently clears thy way;\n Wait thou His time, so shall this night\n Soon end in joyous day.\n\nGerhardt was born at Grafenheinchen, Saxony, 1606. Through the first and\nbest years of manhood's strength (during the Thirty Years' War), a\nwandering preacher tossed from place to place, he was without a parish\nand without a home.\n\nAfter the peace of Westphalia he settled in the little village of\nMittenwalde. He was then forty-four years old. Four years later he\nmarried and removed to a Berlin church. During his residence there he\nburied his wife, and four of his children, was deposed from the\nministry because his Lutheran doctrines offended the Elector Frederick,\nand finally retired as a simple arch-deacon to a small parish in Lubben,\nwhere he preached, toiled, and suffered amid a rough and uncongenial\npeople till he died, Jan. 16, 1676.\n\nFew men have ever lived whose case more needed a \"Hymn of Trust\"--and\nfewer still could have written it themselves. Through all those trial\nyears he was pouring forth his soul in devout verses, making in all no\nless than a hundred and twenty-five hymns--every one of them a comfort\nto others as well as to himself.\n\nHe became a favorite, and for a time _the_ favorite, hymn-writer of all\nthe German-speaking people. Among these tones of calm faith and joy we\nrecognize today (in the English tongue),--\n\n Since Jesus is my Friend,\n\n Thee, O Immanuel, we praise,\n\n All my heart this night rejoices,\n\n How shall I meet Thee,\n\n--and the English translation of his \"O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden,\"\nturned into German by himself from St. Bernard Clairvaux's \"Salve caput\ncruentatum,\" and made dear to us in Rev. James Alexander's beautiful\nlines--\n\n O sacred head now wounded,\n With grief and shame weighed down,\n Now scornfully surrounded\n With thorns, Thine only crown.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA plain-song by Alexander Reinagle is used by some congregations, but is\nnot remarkably expressive. Reinagle, Alexander Robert, (1799-1877) of\nKidlington, Eng., was organist to the church of St. Peter-in-the-East,\nOxford.\n\nThe great \"Hymn of Trust\" could have found no more sympathetic\ninterpreter than the musician of Gerhardt's own land and language,\nSchumann, the gentle genius of Zwickau. It bears the name \"Schumann,\"\nappropriately enough, and its elocution makes a volume of each quatrain,\nnotably the one--\n\n Who points the clouds their course,\n Whom wind and seas obey;\n He shall direct thy wandering feet,\n He shall prepare thy way.\n\nRobert Schumann, Ph.D., was born in Zwickau, Saxony, June 8, 1810. He\nwas a music director and conservatory teacher, and the master-mind of\nthe pre-Wagnerian period. His compositions became popular, having a\ncharacter of their own, combining the intellectual and beautiful in art.\nHe published in Leipsic a journal promotive of his school of music, and\nfounded a choral society in Dresden. Happy in the cooeperation of his\nwife, herself a skilled musician, he extended his work to Vienna and the\nNetherlands; but his zeal wore him out, and he died at the age of\nforty-six, universally lamented as \"the eminent man who had done so much\nfor the happiness of others.\"\n\nGerhardt's Hymn (ten quatrains) is rarely printed entire, and where six\nare printed only four are usually sung. Different collections choose\nportions according to the compiler's taste, the stanza beginning--\n\n Give to the winds thy fears,\n\n--being with some a favorite first verse.\n\nThe translation of the hymn from the German is John Wesley's.\n\nPurely legendary is the beautiful story of the composition of the hymn,\n\"Commit thou all thy griefs\"; how, after his exile from Berlin,\ntraveling on foot with his weeping wife, Gerhardt stopped at a wayside\ninn and wrote the lines while he rested; and how a messenger from Duke\nChristian found him there, and offered him a home in Meresburg. But the\nmost ordinary imagination can fill in the possible incidents in a life\nof vicissitudes such as Gerhardt's was.\n\n\nLADY HUNTINGDON.\n\n\"When Thou My Righteous Judge Shalt Come.\"\n\nSelina Shirley, Countess of Huntingdon, born 1707, died 1791, is\nfamiliarly known as the titled friend and patroness of Whitefield and\nhis fellow-preachers. She early consecrated herself to God, and in the\ngreat spiritual awakening under Whitefield and the Wesleys she was a\npunctual and sympathetic helper. Uniting with the Calvinistic\nMethodists, she nevertheless stood aloof from none who preached a\npersonal Christ, and whose watchwords were the salvation of souls and\nthe purification of the Church. For more than fifty years she devoted\nher wealth to benevolence and spiritual ministries, and died at the age\nof eighty-four. \"I have done my work,\" was her last testimony. \"I have\nnothing to do but to go to my Father.\"\n\nAt various times Lady Huntingdon expressed her religious experience in\nverse, and the manful vigor of her school of faith recalls the unbending\nconfidence of Job, for she was not a stranger to affliction.\n\n God's furnace doth in Zion stand,\n But Zion's God sits by,\n As the refiner views his gold,\n With an observant eye.\n\n His thoughts are high, His love is wise,\n His wounds a cure intend;\n And, though He does not always smile,\n He loves unto the end.\n\nHer great hymn, that keeps her memory green, has the old-fashioned\nflavor. \"Massa made God BIG!\" was the comment on Dr. Bellany made by his\nold negro servant after that noted minister's death. In Puritan piety\nthe sternest self-depreciation qualified every thought of the creature,\nwhile every allusion to the Creator was a magnificat. Lady Huntingdon's\nhymn has no flattering phrases for the human subject. \"Worthless worm,\"\nand \"vilest of them all\" indicate the true Pauline or Oriental\nprostration of self before a superior being; but there is grandeur in\nthe metre, the awful reverence, and the scene of judgment in the\nstanzas--always remembering the mighty choral that has so long given the\nlyric its voice in the church, and is ancillary to its fame:\n\n When Thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come\n To take Thy ransomed people home,\n Shall I among them stand?\n Shall such a worthless worm as I,\n Who sometimes am afraid to die,\n Be found at Thy right hand?\n\n I love to meet Thy people now,\n Before Thy feet with them to bow,\n Though vilest of them all;\n But can I bear the piercing thought,\n What if my name should be left out,\n When Thou for them shalt call?\n\n O Lord, prevent it by Thy grace:\n Be Thou my only hiding place,\n In this th' accepted day;\n Thy pardoning voice, oh let me hear,\n To still my unbelieving fear,\n Nor let me fall, I pray.\n\n Among Thy saints let me be found,\n Whene'er the archangel's trump shall sound,\n To see Thy smiling face;\n Then loudest of the throng I'll sing,\n While heaven's resounding arches ring\n With shouts of sovereign grace.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe tune of \"Meribah,\" in which this hymn has been sung for the last\nsixty or more years, is one of Dr. Lowell Mason's masterpieces. An\nearlier German harmony attributed to Heinrich Isaac and named\n\"Innsbruck\" has in some few cases claimed association with the words,\nthough composed two hundred years before Lady Huntingdon was born. It is\nstrong and solemn, but its cold psalm-tune movement does not utter the\ndeep emotion of the author's lines. \"Meribah\" was inspired by the hymn\nitself, and there is nothing invidious in saying it illustrates the\nfact, memorable in all hymnology, of the natural obligation of a hymn to\nits tune.\n\nApropos of both, it is related that Mason was once presiding at choir\nservice in a certain church where the minister gave out \"When thou my\nrighteous Judge shalt come\" and by mistake directed the singers to \"omit\nthe second stanza.\" Mason sat at the organ, and while playing the last\nstrain, \"Be found at thy right hand,\" glanced ahead in the hymnbook and\nturned with a start just in time to command, \"Sing the _next_ verse!\"\nThe choir did so, and \"O Lord, prevent it by Thy grace!\" was saved from\nbeing a horrible prayer to be kept out of heaven.\n\n\nZINZENDORF.\n\n\"Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness.\"\n\nNicolaus Ludwig, Count Von Zinzendorf, was born at Dresden, May 26,\n1700, and educated at Halle and Wittenberg. From his youth he evinced\nmarked seriousness of mind, and deep religious sensibilities, and this\ncharacter appeared in his sympathy with the persecuted Moravians, to\nwhom he gave domicile and domain on his large estate. For eleven years\nhe was Councillor to the Elector of Saxony, but subsequently, uniting\nwith the Brethren's Church, he founded the settlement of Herrnhut, the\nfirst home and refuge of the reorganized sect, and became a Moravian\nminister and bishop.\n\nZinzendorf was a man of high culture, as well as profound and sincere\npiety and in his hymns (of which he wrote more than two thousand) he\npreached Christ as eloquently as with his voice. The real birth-moment\nof his religious life is said to have been simultaneous with his study\nof the \"Ecce Homo\" in the Dusseldorf Gallery, a wonderful painting of\nJesus crowned with thorns. Visiting the gallery one day when a young\nman, he gazed on the sacred face and read the legend superscribed, \"All\nthis I have done for thee; What doest thou for me?\" Ever afterwards his\nmotto was \"I have but one passion, and that is He, and only He\"--a\nversion of Paul's \"For me to live is Christ.\"\n\n Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness\n My beauty are, my glorious dress:\n 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,\n With joy shall I lift up my head.\n\n Bold shall I stand in Thy great day,\n For who aught to my charge shall lay?\n Fully absolved through these I am--\n From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.\n\n Lord, I believe were sinners more\n Than sands upon the ocean shore,\n Thou hast for all a ransom paid,\n For all a full atonement made.\n\nNearly all the hymns of the great Moravian are now out of general use,\nhaving accomplished their mission, like the forgotten ones of Gerhardt,\nand been superseded by others. More sung in Europe, probably, now than\nany of the survivors is, \"Jesus, geh voran,\" (\"Jesus, lead on,\") which\nhas been translated into English by Jane Borthwick[8] (1854). Two\nothers, both translated by John Wesley, are with us, the one above\nquoted, and \"Glory to God, whose witness train.\" \"Jesus, Thy blood,\"\nwhich is the best known, frequently appears with the alteration--\n\n Jesus, Thy _robe_ of righteousness\n My beauty _is_, my glorious dress.\n\n[Footnote 8: Born in Edinburgh 1813.]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Malvern,\" and \"Uxbridge\" a pure Gregorian, both by Lowell Mason, are\ncommon expressions of the hymn--the latter, perhaps, generally\npreferred, being less plaintive and speaking with a surer and more\nrestful emphasis.\n\n\nROBERT SEAGRAVE.\n\n\"Rise, My Soul, and Stretch Thy Wings.\"\n\nThis hymn was written early in the 18th century, by the Rev. Robert\nSeagrave, born at Twyford, Leicestershire, Eng., Nov. 22, 1693. Educated\nat Cambridge, he took holy orders in the Established Church, but\nespoused the cause of the great evangelistic movement, and became a\nhearty co-worker with the Wesleys. Judging by the lyric fire he could\nevidently put into his verses, one involuntarily asks if he would not\nhave written more, and been in fact the song-leader of the spiritual\nreformation if there had been no Charles Wesley. There is not a hymn of\nWesley's in use on the same subject equal to the one immortal hymn of\nSeagrave, and the only other near its time that approaches it in vigor\nand appealing power is Doddridge's \"Awake my soul, stretch every nerve.\"\n\nBut Providence gave Wesley the harp and appointed to the elder poet a\nbranch of possibly equal usefulness, where he was kept too busy to enter\nthe singers' ranks.\n\nFor eleven years he was the Sunday-evening lecturer at Lorimer's Hall,\nLondon, and often preached in Whitefield's Tabernacle. His hymn is one\nof the most soul-stirring in the English language:\n\n[Illustration: S. Huntingdon]\n\n Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings;\n Thy better portion trace;\n Rise from transitory things\n Toward Heaven, thy native place;\n Sun and moon and stars decay,\n Time shall soon this earth remove;\n Rise, my soul and haste away\n To seats prepared above.\n\n Rivers to the ocean run,\n Nor stay in all their course;\n Fire ascending seeks the sun;\n Both speed them to their source:\n So a soul that's born of God\n Pants to view His glorious face,\n Upward tends to His abode\n To rest in His embrace.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,\n Press onward to the prize;\n Soon your Saviour will return\n Triumphant in the skies.\n Yet a season, and you know\n Happy entrance will be given;\n All our sorrows left below,\n And earth exchanged for heaven.\n\nThis hymn must have found its predestinated organ when it found--\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Amsterdam,\" the work of James Nares, had its birth and baptism soon\nafter the work of Seagrave; and they have been breath and bugle to the\nchurch of God ever since they became one song. In _The Great Musicians_,\nedited by Francis Huffer, is found this account of James Nares:\n\n\"He was born at Hanwell, Middlesex, in 1715; was admitted chorister at\nthe Chapel Royal, under Bernard Gates, and when he was able to play the\norgan was appointed deputy for Pigott, of St. George's Chapel, Windsor,\nand became organist at York Minster in 1734. He succeeded Greene as\norganist and composer to the Chapel Royal in 1756, and in the same year\nwas made Doctor of Music at Cambridge. He was appointed master of the\nchildren of the Chapel Royal in 1757, on the death of Gates. This post\nhe resigned in 1780, and he died in 1783, (February 10,) and was buried\nin St. Margaret's Church, Westminster.\n\n\"He had the reputation of being an excellent trainer of boy's voices,\nmany of his anthems having been written to exhibit the accomplishments\nof his young pupils. The degree of excellence the boys attained was not\nwon in those days without the infliction of much corporal punishment.\"\n\nJudging from the high pulse and action in the music of \"Amsterdam,\" one\nwould guess the energy of the man who made boy choirs--and made good\nones. In the old time the rule was, \"Birds that can sing and won't sing,\nmust be made to sing\"; and the rule was sometimes enforced with the\nmaster's time-stick.\n\nA tune entitled \"Excelsius,\" written a hundred years later by John Henry\nCornell, so nearly resembles \"Amsterdam\" as to suggest an intention to\namend it. It changes the modal note from G to A, but while it marches\nat the same pace it lacks the jubilant modulations and the choral glory\nof the 18th-century piece.\n\n\nSIR JOHN BOWRING.\n\n\"In the Cross of Christ I Glory.\"\n\nIn this hymn we see, sitting humbly at the feet of the great author of\nour religion, a man who impressed himself perhaps more than any other\nsave Napoleon Bonaparte upon his own generation, and who was the wonder\nof Europe for his immense attainments and the versatility of his powers.\nStatesman, philanthropist, biographer, publicist, linguist, historian,\nfinancier, naturalist, poet, political economist--there is hardly a\nbranch of knowledge or a field of research from which he did not enrich\nhimself and others, or a human condition that he did not study and\ninfluence.\n\nSir John Bowring was born in 1792. When a youth he was Jeremy Bentham's\npolitical pupil, but gained his first fame by his vast knowledge of\nEuropean literature, becoming acquainted with no less than thirteen[9]\ncontinental languages and dialects. He served in consular appointments\nat seven different capitals, carried important reform measures in\nParliament, was Minister Plenipotentiary to China and Governor of Hong\nKong, and concluded a commercial treaty with Siam, where every previous\ncommissioner had failed. But in all his crowded years the pen of this\ntireless and successful man was busy. Besides his political, economic\nand religious essays, which made him a member of nearly every learned\nsociety in Europe, his translations were countless, and poems and hymns\nof his own composing found their way to the public, among them the\ntender spiritual song,--\n\n How sweetly flowed the Gospel sound\n From lips of gentleness and grace\n When listening thousands gathered round,\n And joy and gladness filled the place,\n\n--and the more famous hymn indicated at the head of this sketch.\nKnowledge of all religions only qualified him to worship the Crucified\nwith both faith and reason. Though nominally a Unitarian, to him, as to\nChanning and Martineau and Edmund Sears, Christ was \"all we know of\nGod.\"\n\n[Footnote 9: Exaggerated in some accounts to _forty_.]\n\nBowring died Nov. 23, 1872. But his hymn to the Cross will never die:\n\n In the cross of Christ I glory,\n Towering o'er the wrecks of time;\n All the light of sacred story\n Gathers round its head sublime.\n\n When the woes of life o'ertake me\n Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,\n Never shall the cross forsake me;\n Lo! it glows with peace and joy.\n\n When the sun of bliss is beaming\n Light and love upon my way,\n From the cross the radiance streaming\n Adds new lustre to the day.\n\n Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure\n By the cross are sanctified,\n Peace is there that knows no measure,\n Joys that through all time abide.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nIthamar Conkey's \"Rathbun\" fits the adoring words as if they had waited\nfor it. Its air, swelling through diatonic fourth and third to the\nsupreme syllable, bears on its waves the homage of the lines from bar to\nbar till the four voices come home to rest full and satisfied in the\nfinal chord--\n\n Gathers round its head sublime.\n\nIthamar Conkey, was born of Scotch ancestry, in Shutesbury, Mass., May\n5th, 1815. He was a noted bass singer, and was for a long time connected\nwith the choir of the Calvary church, New York City, and sang the\noratorio solos. His tune of \"Rathbun\" was composed in 1847, and\npublished in Greatorex's collection in 1851. He died in Elizabeth, N.J.,\nApril 30, 1867.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nHYMNS OF CHRISTIAN DEVOTION AND EXPERIENCE.\n\n\n\"JESU DULCIS MEMORIA.\"\n\n\"Jesus the Very Thought of Thee.\"\n\nThe original of this delightful hymn is one of the devout meditations of\nBernard of Clairvaux, a Cistercian monk (1091-1153). He was born of a\nnoble family in or near Dijon, Burgundy, and when only twenty-three\nyears old established a monastery at Clairvaux, France, over which he\npresided as its first abbot. Educated in the University of Paris, and\npossessing great natural abilities, he soon made himself felt in both\nthe religious and political affairs of Europe. For more than thirty\nyears he was the personal power that directed belief, quieted\nturbulence, and arbitrated disputes, and kings and even popes sought his\ncounsel. It was his eloquent preaching that inspired the second crusade.\n\nHis fine poem of feeling, in fifty Latin stanzas, has been a source of\npious song in several languages:\n\n Jesu, dulcis memoria\n Dans vera cordi gaudia,\n Sed super mel et omnium\n Ejus dulcis presentia.\n\nLiterally--\n\n Jesus! a sweet memory\n Giving true joys to the heart,\n But sweet above honey and all things\n His _presence_ [is].\n\nThe five stanzas (of Caswall's free translation) now in use are familiar\nand dear to all English-speaking believers:\n\n Jesus, the very thought of Thee\n With sweetness fills my breast,\n But sweeter far Thy face to see,\n And in Thy presence rest.\n\n Nor voice can sing nor heart can frame\n Nor can the memory find,\n A sweeter sound than Thy blest name,\n O Saviour of mankind.\n\nThe Rev. Edward Caswall was born in Hampshire, Eng., July 15, 1814, the\nson of a clergyman. He graduated with honors at Brazenose College,\nOxford, and after ten years of service in the ministry of the Church of\nEngland joined Henry Newman's Oratory at Birmingham, was confirmed in\nthe Church of Rome, and devoted the rest of his life to works of piety\nand charity. He died Jan. 2, 1878.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nNo single melody has attached itself to this hymn, the scope of\nselection being as large as the supply of appropriate common-metre\ntunes. Barnby's \"Holy Trinity,\" Wade's \"Holy Cross\" and Griggs' tune (of\nhis own name) are all good, but many, on the giving out of the hymn,\nwould associate it at once with the more familiar \"Heber\" by George\nKingsley and expect to hear it sung. It has the uplift and unction of\nJohn Newton's--\n\n How sweet the name of Jesus sounds\n In the believer's ear.\n\n\n\"GOD CALLING YET! SHALL I NOT HEAR?\"\n\nGerhard Tersteegen, the original author of the hymn, and one of the most\neminent religious poets of the Reformed German church in its early days,\nwas born in 1697, in the town of Mors, in Westphalia. He was left an\norphan in boyhood by the death of his father, and as his mother's means\nwere limited, he was put to work as an apprentice when very young, at\nMuhlheim on the Ruhr, and became a ribbon weaver. Here, when about\nfifteen years of age, he became deeply concerned for his soul, and\nexperienced a deep and abiding spiritual work. As a Christian, his\nreligion partook of the ascetic type, but his mysticism did not make him\nuseless to his fellow-men.\n\nAt the age of twenty-seven, he dedicated all his resources and energies\nto the cause of Christ, writing the dedication in his own blood. \"God\ngraciously called me,\" he says, \"out of the world, and granted me the\ndesire to belong to Him, and to be willing to follow Him.\" He gave up\nsecular employments altogether, and devoted his whole time to religious\ninstruction and to the poor. His house became famous as the \"Pilgrims'\nCottage,\" and was visited by people high and humble from all parts of\nGermany. In his lifetime he is said to have written one hundred and\neleven hymns. Died April 3, 1769.\n\n God calling yet! shall I not hear?\n Earth's pleasures shall I still hold dear?\n Shall life's swift-passing years all fly,\n And still my soul in slumber lie?\n\n * * * * *\n\n God calling yet! I cannot stay;\n My heart I yield without delay.\n Vain world, farewell; from thee I part;\n The voice of God hath reached my heart.\n\nThe hymn was translated from the German by Miss Jane Borthwick, born in\nEdinburgh, 1813. She and her younger sister, Mrs. Findlater, jointly\ntranslated and published, in 1854, _Hymns From the Land of Luther_, and\ncontributed many poetical pieces to the _Family Treasury_. She died in\n1897.\n\nAnother translation, imitating the German metre, is more euphonious,\nthough less literal and less easily fitted to music not specially\ncomposed for it, on account of its \"feminine\" rhymes:\n\n God calling yet! and shall I never hearken?\n But still earth's witcheries my spirit darken;\n This passing life, these passing joys all flying,\n And still my soul in dreamy slumbers lying?\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nDr. Dykes' \"Rivaulx\" is a sober choral that articulates the\nhymn-writer's sentiment with sincerity and with considerable\nearnestness, but breathes too faintly the interrogative and expostulary\ntone of the lines. To voice the devout solicitude and self-remonstrance\nof the hymn there is no tune superior to \"Federal St.\"\n\nThe Hon. Henry Kemble Oliver, author of \"Federal St.,\" was born in\nSalem, Mass., March, 1800, and was addicted to music from his childhood.\nHis father compelled him to relinquish it as a profession, but it\nremained his favorite avocation, and after his graduation from Harvard\nthe cares of none of the various public positions he held, from\nschoolmaster to treasurer of the state of Massachusetts, could ever wean\nhim from the study of music and its practice. At the age of thirty-one,\nwhile sitting one day in his study, the last verse of Anne Steele's\nhymn--\n\n So fades the lovely blooming flower,\n\n--floated into his mind, and an unbidden melody came with it. As he\nhummed it to himself the words shaped the air, and the air shaped the\nwords.\n\n Then gentle patience smiles on pain,\n Then dying hope revives again,\n\n--became--\n\n See gentle patience smile on pain;\n See dying hope revive again;\n\n--and with the change of a word and a tense the hymn created the melody,\nand soon afterward the complete tune was made. Two years later it was\npublished by Lowell Mason, and Oliver gave it the name of the street in\nSalem on which his wife was born, wooed, won, and married. It adds a\npathos to its history that \"Federal St.\" was sung at her burial.\n\nThis first of Oliver's tunes was followed by \"Harmony Grove,\" \"Morning,\"\n\"Walnut Grove,\" \"Merton,\" \"Hudson,\" \"Bosworth,\" \"Salisbury Plain,\"\nseveral anthems and motets, and a \"Te Deum.\"\n\nIn his old age, at the great Peace Jubilee in Boston, 1872, the baton\nwas put into his hands, and the gray-haired composer conducted the\nchorus of ten thousand voices as they sang the words and music of his\nnoble harmony. The incident made \"Federal St.\" more than ever a feature\nof New England history. Oliver died in 1885.\n\n\n\"MY GOD, HOW ENDLESS IS THY LOVE.\"\n\nThe spirited tune to this hymn of Watts, by Frederick Lampe, variously\nnamed \"Kent\" and \"Devonshire,\" historically reaches back so near to the\npoet's time that it must have been one of the earliest expressions of\nhis fervent words.\n\nJohan Friedrich Lampe, born 1693, in Saxony, was educated in music at\nHelmstadt, and came to England in 1725 as a band musician and composer\nto Covent Garden Theater. His best-known secular piece is the music\nwritten to Henry Carey's burlesque, \"The Dragon of Wantley.\"\n\nMrs. Rich, wife of the lessee of the theater, was converted under the\npreaching of the Methodists, and after her husband's death her house\nbecame the home of Lampe and his wife, where Charles Wesley often met\nhim.\n\nThe influence of Wesley won him to more serious work, and he became one\nof the evangelist's helpers, supplying tunes to his singing campaigns.\nWesley became attached to him, and after his death--in Edinburgh,\n1752--commemorated the musician in a funeral hymn.\n\nIn popular favor Bradbury's tune of \"Rolland\" has now superseded the old\nmusic sung to Watts' lines--\n\n My God, how endless is Thy love,\n Thy gifts are every evening new,\n And morning mercies from above\n Gently distil like early dew.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I yield my powers to Thy command;\n To Thee I consecrate my days;\n Perpetual blessings from Thy hand\n Demand perpetual songs of praise.\n\nWilliam Batchelder Bradbury, a pupil of Dr. Lowell Mason, and the\npioneer in publishing Sunday-school music, was born 1816, in York, Me.\nHis father, a veteran of the Revolution, was a choir leader, and\nWilliam's love of music was inherited. He left his father's farm, and\ncame to Boston, where he first heard a church-organ. Encouraged by Mason\nand others to follow music as a profession, he went abroad, studied at\nLeipsic, and soon after his return became known as a composer of sacred\ntunes. He died in Montclair, N.J., 1868.\n\n\n\"I'M NOT ASHAMED TO OWN MY LORD.\"\n\nThe favorite tune for this spiritual hymn, also by Watts, is old\n\"Arlington,\" one of the most useful church melodies in the whole realm\nof English psalmody. Its name clings to a Boston street, and the\nbeautiful chimes of Arlington St. church (Unitarian) annually ring its\nmusic on special occasions, as it has since the bells were tuned:\n\n I'm not ashamed to own my Lord\n Or to defend His cause,\n Maintain the honor of His Word,\n The glory of His cross.\n\n Jesus, my God!--I know His Name;\n His Name is all my trust,\n Nor will He put my soul to shame\n Nor let my hope be lost.\n\nDr. Thomas Augustine Arne, the creator of \"Arlington,\" was born in\nLondon, 1710, the son of a King St. upholsterer. He studied at Eton, and\nthough intended for the legal profession, gave his whole mind to music.\nAt twenty-three he began writing operas for his sister, Susanna (a\nsinger who afterwards became the famous tragic actress, Mrs. Cibber).\n\nArne's music to Milton's \"Comus,\" and to \"Rule Brittannia\" established\nhis reputation. He was engaged as composer to Drury Lane Theater, and in\n1759 received from Oxford his degree of Music Doctor. Later in life he\nturned his attention to oratorios, and other forms of sacred music, and\nwas the first to introduce female voices in choir singing. He died March\n5, 1778, chanting hallelujahs, it is said, with his last breath.\n\n\n\"IS THIS THE KIND RETURN?\"\n\nDr. Watts in this hymn gave experimental piety its hour and language of\nreflection and penitence:\n\n Is this the kind return?\n Are these the thanks we owe,\n Thus to abuse Eternal Love\n Whence all our blessings flow?\n\n * * * * *\n\n Let past ingratitude\n Provoke our weeping eyes.\n\nUnited in loving wedlock with these words in former years was \"Golden\nHill,\" a chime of sweet counterpoint too rare to bury its authorship\nunder the vague phrase \"A Western Melody.\" It was caught evidently from\na forest bird[10] that flutes its clear solo in the sunsets of May and\nJune. There can be no mistaking the imitation--the same compass, the\nsame upward thrill, the same fall and warbled turn. Old-time folk used\nto call for it, \"Sing, my Fairweather Bird.\" It lingers in a few of the\ntwenty- or thirty-years-ago collections, but stronger voices have\ndrowned it out of the new.\n\n[Footnote 10: The wood thrush.]\n\n\"Thacher,\" (set to the same hymn,) faintly recalls its melody.\nNevertheless \"Thacher\" is a good tune. Though commonly written in\nsharps, contrasting the B flat of its softer and more liquid rival of\nother days, it is one of Handel's strains, and lends the meaning and\npathos of the lyric text to voice and instrument.\n\n\n\"WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS.\"\n\nThis crown of all the sacred odes of Dr. Watts for the song-service of\nthe church of God was called by Matthew Arnold the \"greatest hymn in the\nEnglish language.\" The day the eminent critic died he heard it sung in\nthe Sefton Park Presbyterian Church, and repeated the opening lines\nsoftly to himself again and again after the services. The hymn is\ncertainly _one_ of the greatest in the language. It appeared as No. 7 in\nWatts' third edition (about 1710) containing five stanzas. The second\nline--\n\n On which the Prince of Glory died,\n\n--read originally--\n\n Where the young Prince of Glory died.\n\nOnly four stanzas are now generally used. The omitted one--\n\n His dying crimson like a robe\n Spreads o'er His body on the tree;\n Then am I dead to all the globe,\n And all the globe is dead to me.\n\n--is a flash of tragic imagination, showing the sanguine intensity of\nChristian vision in earlier time, when contemplating the Saviour's\npassion; but it is too realistic for the spirit and genius of\nsong-worship. That the great hymn was designed by the writer for\ncommunion seasons, and was inspired by Gal. 6:14, explains the two last\nlines if not the whole of the highly colored verse.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOne has a wide field of choice in seeking the best musical\ninterpretation of this royal song of faith and self-effacement:\n\n When I survey the wondrous Cross\n On which the Prince of Glory died,\n My richest gain I count but loss,\n And pour contempt on all my pride.\n\n Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast\n Save in the death of Christ my God;\n All the vain things that charm me most,\n I sacrifice them to His blood.\n\n See from His head, His hands, His feet,\n Sorrow and love flow mingled down;\n Did e'er such love and sorrow meet;\n Or thorns compose so rich a crown?\n\n Were the whole realm of Nature mine,\n That were a present far too small;\n Love so amazing, so divine,\n Demands my soul, my life, my all.\n\nTo match the height and depth of these words with fitting glory of sound\nmight well have been an ambition of devout composers. Rev. G.C. Wells'\ntune in the _Revivalist_, with its emotional chorus, I.B. Woodbury's\n\"Eucharist\" in the _Methodist Hymnal_, Henry Smart's effective choral in\nBarnby's _Hymnary_ (No. 170), and a score of others, have woven the\nfeeling lines into melody with varying success. Worshippers in spiritual\nsympathy with the words may question if, after all, old \"Hamburg,\" the\nbest of Mason's loved Gregorians, does not, alone, in tone and\nelocution, rise to the level of the hymn.\n\n\n\"LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING.\"\n\nThis evergreen song-wreath to the Crucified, was contributed by Charles\nWesley, in 1746. It is found in his collection of 1756, _Hymns for Those\nThat Seek and Those That Have Redemption in the Blood of Jesus Christ_.\n\n Love Divine all loves excelling,\n Joy of Heaven to earth come down,\n Fix in us Thy humble dwelling,\n All Thy faithful mercies crown.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Come Almighty to deliver,\n Let us all Thy life receive,\n Suddenly return, and never,\n Nevermore Thy temples leave.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Finish then Thy new creation;\n Pure and spotless let us be;\n Let us see our whole salvation\n Perfectly secured by Thee.\n\n Changed from glory into glory\n Till in Heaven we take our place,\n Till we cast our crowns before Thee\n Lost in wonder, love and praise!\n\nThe hymn has been set to H. Isaac's ancient tune (1490), to Wyeth's\n\"Nettleton\" (1810), to Thos. H. Bailey's (1777-1839) \"Isle of Beauty,\nfare thee well\" (named from Thomas Moore's song), to Edward Hopkins'\n\"St. Joseph,\" and to a multitude of others more or less familiar.\n\nMost familiar of all perhaps, (as in the instance of \"Far from mortal\ncares retreating,\") is its association with \"Greenville,\" the production\nof that brilliant but erratic genius and freethinker, Jean Jacques\nRousseau. It was originally a love serenade, (\"Days of absence, sad and\ndreary\") from the opera of _Le Devin du Village_, written about 1752.\nThe song was commonly known years afterwards as \"Rousseau's Dream.\" But\nthe unbelieving philosopher, musician, and misguided moralist builded\nbetter than he knew, and probably better than he meant when he wrote his\nimmortal choral. Whatever he heard in his \"dream\" (and one legend says\nit was a \"song of angels\") he created a harmony dear to the church he\ndespised, and softened the hearts of the Christian world towards an evil\nteacher who was inspired, like Balaam, to utter one sacred strain.\n\nRousseau was born in Geneva, 1712, but he never knew his mother, and\nneither the affection or interest of his father or of his other\nrelatives was of the quality to insure the best bringing up of a child.\n\nHe died July, 1778. But his song survives, while the world gladly\nforgets everything else he wrote. It is almost a pardonable exaggeration\nto say that every child in Christendom knows \"Greenville.\"\n\n\n\"WHEN ALL THY MERCIES, O MY GOD.\"\n\nThis charming hymn was written by Addison, the celebrated English poet\nand essayist, about 1701, in grateful commemoration of his delivery from\nshipwreck in a storm off the coast of Genoa, Italy. It originally\ncontained thirteen stanzas, but no more than four or six are commonly\nsung. It has put the language of devotional gratitude into the mouths of\nthousands of humble disciples who could but feebly frame their own:\n\n When all Thy mercies, O my God\n My rising soul surveys,\n Transported with the view I'm lost\n In wonder, love and praise.\n\n Unnumbered comforts on my soul\n Thy tender care bestowed\n Before my infant heart conceived\n From whom those comforts flowed.\n\n When in the slippery paths of youth\n With heedless steps I ran,\n Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe,\n And led me up to man.\n\nAnother hymn of Addison--\n\n How are Thy servants bless'd, O Lord,\n\n--was probably composed after the same return from a foreign voyage. It\nhas been called his \"Traveller's Hymn.\"\n\nJoseph Addison, the best English writer of his time, was the son of\nLancelot Addison, rector of Milston, Wiltshire, and afterwards Dean of\nLitchfield. The distinguished author was born in Milston Rectory, May 1,\n1672, and was educated at Oxford. His excellence in poetry, both English\nand Latin, gave him early reputation, and a patriotic ode obtained for\nhim the patronage of Lord Somers. A pension from King William III.\nassured him a comfortable income, which was increased by further honors,\nfor in 1704 he was appointed Commissioner of Appeals, then secretary of\nthe Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and in 1717 Secretary of State. He died\nin Holland House, Kensington, near London, June 17, 1719.\n\nHis hymns are not numerous, (said to be only five), but they are\nremarkable for the simple beauty of their style, as well as for their\nChristian spirit. Of his fine metrical version of the 23rd Psalm,--\n\n The Lord my pasture shall prepare,\n And feed me with a shepherd's care,\n\n--one of his earliest productions, the tradition is that he gathered its\nimagery when a boy living at Netheravon, near Salisbury Plain, during\nhis lonely two-mile walks to school at Amesbury and back again. All his\nhymns appeared first in the _Spectator_, to which he was a prolific\ncontributor.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn \"When all Thy mercies\" still has \"Geneva\" for its vocal mate in\nsome congregational manuals. The tune is one of the rare survivals of\nthe old \"canon\" musical method, the parts coming in one after another\nwith identical notes. It is always delightful as a performance with its\nglory of harmony and its sweet duet, and for generations it had no other\nwords than Addison's hymn.\n\nJohn Cole, author of \"Geneva,\" was born in Tewksbury, Eng., 1774, and\ncame to the United States in his boyhood (1785). Baltimore, Md. became\nhis American home, and he was educated there. Early in life he became a\nmusician and music publisher. At least twelve of his principal song\ncollections from 1800 to 1832 are mentioned by Mr. Hubert P. Main, most\nof them sacred and containing many of his own tunes.\n\nHe continued to compose music till his death, Aug. 17, 1855. Mr. Cole\nwas leader of the regimental band known as \"The Independent Blues,\"\nwhich played in the war of 1812, and was present at the \"North Point\"\nfight, and other battles.\n\nBesides \"Geneva,\" for real feeling and harmonic beauty \"Manoah,\" adapted\nfrom Haydn's Creation, deserves mention as admirably suited to\n\"Addison's\" hymn, and also \"Belmont,\" by Samuel Webbe, which resembles\nit in style and sentiment.\n\nSamuel Webbe, composer of \"Belmont,\" was of English parentage but was\nborn in Minorca, Balearic Islands, in 1740, where his father at that\ntime held a government appointment; but his father, dying suddenly, left\nhis family poor, and Samuel was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker. He\nserved his apprenticeship, and immediately repaired to a London teacher\nand began the study of music and languages. Surmounting great\ndifficulties, he became a competent musician, and made himself popular\nas a composer of glees. He was also the author of several masses,\nanthems, and hymn-tunes, the best of which are still in occasional use.\nDied in London, 1816.\n\n\n\"JESUS, I LOVE THY CHARMING NAME.\"\n\nWhen Dr. Doddridge, the author of this hymn, during his useful ministry,\nhad finished the preparation of a pulpit discourse that strongly\nimpressed him, he was accustomed, while his heart was yet glowing with\nthe sentiment that had inspired him, to put the principal thoughts into\nmetre, and use the hymn thus written at the conclusion of the preaching\nof the sermon. This hymn of Christian ardor was written to be sung after\na sermon from Romans 8:35, \"Who shall separate us from the love of\nChrist?\"\n\n Jesus, I love Thy charming name,\n 'Tis music to mine ear:\n Fain would I sound it out so loud\n That earth and heaven should hear.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I'll speak the honors of Thy name\n With my last laboring breath,\n Then speechless, clasp Thee in my arms,\n The conqueror of death.\n\nEarlier copies have--\n\n The _antidote_ of death.\n\nPhilip Doddridge, D.D., was born in London, June 26, 1702. Educated at\nKingston Grammar School and Kibworth Academy, he became a scholar of\nrespectable attainments, and was ordained to the Non-conformist\nministry. He was pastor of the Congregational church at Northampton,\nfrom 1729 until his death, acting meanwhile as principal of the\nTheological School in that place. In 1749 he ceased to preach and went\nto Lisbon for his health, but died there about two years later, of\nconsumption, Oct. 26, 1752.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn has been sometimes sung to \"Pisgah,\" an old revival piece by\nJ.C. Lowry (1820) once much heard in camp-meetings, but it is a\npedestrian tune with too many quavers, and a headlong tempo.\n\nBradbury's \"Jazer,\" in three-four time, is a melody with modulations,\nthough more sympathetic, but it is hard to divorce the hymn from its\nlong-time consort, old \"Arlington.\" It has the accent of its sincerity,\nand the breath of its devotion.\n\n\n\"LO, ON A NARROW NECK OF LAND.\"\n\nThis hymn of Charles Wesley is always designated now by the above line,\nthe first of the _second_ stanza as originally written. It is said to\nhave been composed at Land's End, in Cornwall, with the British Channel\nand the broad Atlantic in view and surging on both sides around a\n\"narrow neck of land.\"\n\n Lo! on a narrow neck of land,\n Twixt two unbounded seas, I stand,\n Secure, insensible:\n A point of time, a moment's space,\n Removes me to that heavenly place,\n Or shuts me up in hell.\n\n O God, mine inmost soul convert,\n And deeply on my thoughtful heart\n Eternal things impress:\n Give me to feel their solemn weight,\n And tremble on the brink of fate,\n And wake to righteousness.\n\nThe preachers and poets of the great spiritual movement of the\neighteenth century in England abated nothing in the candor of their\nwords. The terrible earnestness of conviction tipped their tongues and\npens with fire.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nLady Huntingdon would have lent \"Meribah\" gladly to this hymn, but Mason\nwas not yet born. Many times it has been borrowed for Wesley's words\nsince it came to its own, and the spirit of the pious Countess has\ndoubtless approved the loan. It is rich enough to furnish forth her own\nlyric and more than one other of like matter and metre.\n\nThe muscular music of \"Ganges\" has sometimes carried the hymn, and there\nare those who think its thunder is not a whit more Hebraic than the\nwords require.\n\n\n\"COME YE SINNERS POOR AND NEEDY.\"\n\nFew hymns have been more frequently sung in prayer-meetings and\nreligious assemblies during the last hundred and fifty years. Its\nauthor, Joseph Hart, spoke what he knew and testified what he felt. Born\nin London, 1712, and liberally educated, he was in his young manhood\nvery religious, but he went so far astray as to indulge in evil\npractices, and even published writings, both original and translated,\nagainst Christianity and religion of any kind. But he could not drink at\nthe Dead Sea and live. The apples of Sodom sickened him. Conscience\nasserted itself, and the pangs of remorse nearly drove him to despair\ntill he turned back to the source he had forsaken. He alludes to this\nexperience in the lines--\n\n Let not conscience make you linger,\n Nor of fitness fondly dream;\n All the fitness He requireth\n Is to feel your need of Him.\n\nDuring Passion Week, 1767, he had an amazing view of the sufferings of\nChrist, under the stress of which his heart was changed. In the joy of\nthis experience he wrote--\n\n Come ye sinners poor and needy,\n\n--and--\n\n Come all ye chosen saints of God.\n\nProbably no two hymn-lines have been oftener repeated than--\n\n If you tarry till you're better\n You will never come at all.\n\nThe complete form of the original stanzas is:\n\n Come ye sinners poor and needy,\n Weak and wounded, sick and sore;\n Jesus ready stands to save you,\n Full of pity, love and power.\n He is able,\n He is willing; doubt no more.\n\nThe whole hymn--ten stanzas--is not sung now as one, but two, the second\ndivision beginning with the line--\n\n Come ye weary, heavy laden.\n\nRev. Joseph Hart became minister of Jewin St. Congregational Chapel,\nLondon, about 1760, where he labored till his death, May 24, 1768.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA revival song by Jeremiah Ingalls (1764-1828), written about 1804, with\nan easy, popular swing and a _sforzando_ chorus--\n\n Turn to the Lord and seek salvation,\n\n--monopolized this hymn for a good many years. The tunes commonly\nassigned to it have since been \"Greenville\" and Von Weber's \"Wilmot,\" in\nwhich last it is now more generally sung--dropping the echo lines at the\nend of each stanza.\n\nCarl Maria Von Weber, son of a roving musician, was born in Eutin,\nGermany, 1786. He developed no remarkable genius till he was about\ntwenty years old, though being a fine vocalist, his singing brought him\npopularity and gain; but in 1806 he nearly lost his voice by accidently\ndrinking nitric acid. He was for several years private secretary to Duke\nLudwig at Stuttgart, and in 1813 Chapel-Master at Prague, from which\nplace he went to Dresden in 1817 as Musik-Director.\n\nVon Weber's Korner songs won the hearts of all Germany; and his immortal\n\"Der Freischutz\" (the Free Archer), and numerous tender melodies like\nthe airs to \"John Anderson, my Jo\" and \"O Poortith Cauld\" have gone to\nall civilized nations. No other composer had such feeling for beauty of\nsound.\n\nThis beloved musician was physically frail and delicate, and died of\nuntimely decline, during a visit to London in 1826.\n\n\n\"O HAPPY SAINTS WHO DWELL IN LIGHT.\"\n\nSometimes printed \"O happy _souls_.\" This poetical and flowing hymn\nseems to have been forgotten in the making up of most modern church\nhymnals. Hymns on heaven and heavenly joys abound in embarrassing\nnumbers, but it is difficult to understand why this beautiful lyric\nshould be _universally_ neglected. It was written probably about 1760,\nby Rev. John Berridge, from the text, \"Blessed are the dead who die in\nthe Lord,\"\n\nThe first line of the second stanza--\n\n Released from sorrow, toil and strife,\n\n--has been tinkered in some of the older hymn-books, where it is found\nto read--,\n\n Released from sorrows toil and _grief_,\n\n--not only committing a tautology, but destroying the perfect rhyme with\n\"life\" in the next line. The whole hymn, too, has been much altered by\nsubstituted words and shifted lines, though not generally to the serious\ndetriment of its meaning and music.\n\nThe Rev. John Berridge--friend of the Wesleys, Whitefield, and Lady\nHuntingdon--was an eccentric but very worthy and spiritual minister,\nborn the son of a farmer, in Kingston, Nottinghamshire, Eng., Mar. 1,\n1716. He studied at Cambridge, and was ordained curate of Stapleford and\nsubsequently located as vicar of Everton, 1775. He died Jan. 22, 1793.\nHe loved to preach, and he was determined that his tombstone should\npreach after his voice was still. His epitaph, composed by himself, is\nboth a testimony and a memoir:\n\n \"Here lie the earthly remains of John Berridge, late vicar of\n Everton, and an itinerant servant of Jesus Christ, who loved his\n Master and His work, and after running His errands many years, was\n called up to wait on Him above.\n\n \"Reader, art thou born again?\n\n \"No salvation without the new birth.\n\n \"I was born in sin, February, 1716.\n\n \"Remained ignorant of my fallen state till 1730.\n\n \"Lived proudly on faith and works for salvation till 1751.\n\n \"Admitted to Everton vicarage, 1755.\n\n \"Fled to Jesus alone for refuge, 1756.\n\n \"Fell asleep in Jesus Christ,--\" (1793.)\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe once popular score that easily made the hymn a favorite, was\n\"Salem,\" in the old _Psalmodist_. It still appears in some note-books,\nthough the name of its composer is uncertain. Its notes (in 6-8 time)\nsucceed each other in syllabic modulations that give a soft dactylic\naccent to the measure and a wavy current to the lines:\n\n O happy saints that dwell in light,\n And walk with Jesus clothed in white,\n Safe landed on that peaceful shore,\n Where pilgrims meet to part no more:\n\n Released from sorrow, toil and strife,\n Death was the gate to endless life,\n And now they range the heavenly plains\n And sing His love in melting strains.\n\nAnother version reads:\n\n ----and welcome to an endless life,\n Their souls have now begun to prove\n The height and depth of Jesus' love.\n\n\n\"THOU DEAR REDEEMER, DYING LAMB.\"\n\nThe author, John Cennick, like Joseph Hart, was led to Christ after a\nreckless boyhood and youth, by the work of the Divine Spirit in his\nsoul, independent of any direct outward influence. Sickened of his\ncards, novels, and playhouse pleasures, he had begun a sort of\nmechanical reform, when one day, walking in the streets of London, he\nsuddenly seemed to hear the text spoken \"I am thy salvation!\" His\nconsecration began at that moment.\n\nHe studied for the ministry, and became a preacher, first under\ndirection of the Wesleys, then under Whitefield, but afterwards joined\nthe Moravians, or \"Brethren.\" He was born at Reading, Derbyshire, Eng.,\nDec. 12, 1718, and died in London, July 4, 1755.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe word \"Rhine\" (in some collections--in others \"Emmons\") names a\nrevival tune once so linked with this hymn and so well known that few\nreligious people now past middle life could enjoy singing it to any\nother. With a compass one note beyond an octave and a third, it utters\nevery line with a clear, bold gladness sure to infect a meeting with its\nown spiritual fervor.\n\n Thou dear Redeemer, dying Lamb,\n I love to hear of Thee;\n No music like Thy charming name,\n Nor half so sweet can be.\n\nThe composer of the bright legato melody just described was Frederick\nBurgmueller, a young German musician, born in 1804. He was a remarkable\ngenius, both in composition and execution, but his health was frail, and\nhe did not live to fulfil the rich possibilities that lay within him. He\ndied in 1824--only twenty years old. The tune \"Rhine\" (\"Emmons\") is from\none of his marches.\n\n\n\"WHILE THEE I SEEK, PROTECTING POWER.\"\n\nHelen Maria Williams wrote this sweet hymn, probably about the year\n1800. She was a brilliant woman, better known in literary society for\nher political verses and essays than by her hymns; but the hymn here\nnoted bears sufficient witness to her deep religious feeling:\n\n While Thee I seek, Protecting Power,\n Be my vain wishes stilled,\n And may this consecrated hour\n With better hopes be filled.\n Thy love the power of thought bestowed;\n To Thee my thoughts would soar,\n Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed,\n That mercy I adore.\n\nMiss Williams was born in the north of England, Nov. 30, 1762, but spent\nmuch of her life in London, and in Paris, where she died, Dec. 14, 1827.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nWedded so many years to the gentle, flowing music of Pleyel's \"Brattle\nStreet,\" few lovers of the hymn recall its words without the melody of\nthat emotional choral.\n\nThe plain psalm-tune, \"Simpson,\" by Louis Spohr, divides the stanzas\ninto quatrains.\n\n\n\"JESUS MY ALL TO HEAVEN IS GONE.\"\n\nThis hymn, by Cennick, was familiarized to the public more than two\ngenerations ago by its revival tune, sometimes called \"Duane Street,\"\nlong-metre double. It is staffed in various keys, but its movement is\nfull of life and emphasis, and its melody is contagious. The piece was\ncomposed by Rev. George Coles, in 1835.\n\nThe fact that this hymn of Cennick with Coles's tune appears in the _New\nMethodist Hymnal_ indicates the survival of both in modern favor.\n\n[Illustration: Augustus Montague Toplady]\n\n Jesus my all to heaven is gone,\n He whom I fixed my hopes upon;\n His track I see, and I'll pursue\n The narrow way till Him I view.\n The way the holy prophets went,\n The road that leads from banishment,\n The King's highway of holiness\n I'll go for all Thy paths are peace.\n\nThe memory has not passed away of the hearty unison with which\nprayer-meeting and camp-meeting assemblies used to \"crescendo\" the last\nstanza--\n\n Then will I tell to sinners round\n What a dear Saviour I have found;\n I'll point to His redeeming blood,\n And say \"Behold the way to God.\"\n\nThe Rev. George Coles was born in Stewkley, Eng., Jan. 2, 1792, and died\nin New York City, May 1, 1858. He was editor of the _N.Y. Christian\nAdvocate_, and _Sunday School Advocate_, for several years, and was a\nmusician of some ability, besides being a good singer.\n\n\n\"SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN BLESSING.\"\n\nThe Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley, Rector of Loughgree, county of Galway,\nIreland, revised this hymn under the chastening discipline of a most\ntrying experience. His brother, the Earl of Ferrars, a licentious man,\nmurdered an old and faithful servant in a fit of rage, and was executed\nat Tyburn for the crime. Sir Walter, after the disgrace and long\ndistress of the imprisonment, trial, and final tragedy, returned to his\nlittle parish in Ireland, humbled but driven nearer to the Cross.\n\n Sweet the moments, rich in blessing\n Which before the Cross I spend;\n Life and health and peace possessing\n From the sinner's dying Friend.\n\nAll the emotion of one who buries a mortifying sorrow in the heart of\nChrist, and tries to forget, trembles in the lines of the above hymn as\nhe changed and adapted it in his saddest but devoutest hours. Its\noriginal writer was the Rev. James Allen, nearly twenty years younger\nthan himself, a man of culture and piety, but a Christian of shifting\ncreeds. It is not impossible that he sent his hymn to Shirley to revise.\nAt all events it owes its present form to Shirley's hand.\n\n Truly blessed is the station\n Low before His cross to lie,\n While I see Divine Compassion\n Beaming in His gracious eye.[11]\n\n[Footnote 11: \"Floating in His languid eye\" seems to have been the\nearlier version.]\n\nThe influence of Sir Walter's family misfortune is evident also in the\nmood out of which breathed his other trustful lines--\n\n Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan\n Hath taught these rocks the notes of woe,\n\n(changed now to \"hath taught _these scenes_\" etc).\n\nSir Walter Shirley, cousin of the Countess of Huntingdon, was born 1725,\nand died in 1786. Even in his last sickness he continued to preach to\nhis people in his house, seated in his chair.\n\nRev. James Oswald Allen was born at Gayle, Yorkshire, Eng., June 24,\n1743. He left the University of Cambridge after a year's study, and\nbecame an itinerant preacher, but seems to have been a man of unstable\nreligious views. After roving from one Christian denomination to another\nseveral times, he built a Chapel, and for forty years ministered there\nto a small Independent congregation. He died in Gayle, Oct. 31, 1804.\n\nThe tune long and happily associated with \"Sweet the Moments\" is\n\"Sicily,\" or the \"Sicilian Hymn\"--from an old Latin hymn-tune, \"O\nSanctissima.\"\n\n\n\"O FOR A CLOSER WALK WITH GOD.\"\n\nThe author, William Cowper, son of a clergyman, was born at\nBerkhampstead, Hertfordshire, Eng., Nov. 15, 1731, and died at Dereham,\nNorfolk, April 25, 1800. Through much of his adult life he was afflicted\nwith a mental ailment inducing melancholia and at times partial\ninsanity, during which he once attempted suicide. He sought literary\noccupation as an antidote to his disorder of mind, and besides a great\nnumber of lighter pieces which diverted him and his friends, composed\n\"The Task,\" an able and delightful moral and domestic poetic treatise in\nblank verse, and in the same style of verse translated Homer's _Odyssey_\nand _Iliad_.\n\nOne of the most beloved of English poets, this suffering man was also a\ntrue Christian, and wrote some of our sweetest and most spiritual hymns.\nMost of these were composed at Olney, where he resided for a time with\nJohn Newton, his fellow hymnist, and jointly with him issued the volume\nknown as the _Olney Hymns_.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nMusic more or less closely identified with this familiar hymn is\nGardiner's \"Dedham,\" and also \"Mear,\" often attributed to Aaron\nWilliams. Both, about equally with the hymn, are seasoned by time, but\nhave not worn out their harmony--or their fitness to Cowper's prayer.\n\nWilliam Gardiner was born in Leicester, Eng., March 15, 1770, and died\nthere Nov. 11, 1853. He was a vocal composer and a \"musicographer\" or\nwriter on musical subjects.\n\nOne Aaron Williams, to whom \"Mear\" has by some been credited, was of\nWelsh descent, a composer of psalmody and clerk of the Scotch church in\nLondon. He was born in 1734, and died in 1776. Another account, and the\nmore probable one, names a minister of Boston of still earlier date as\nthe author of the noble old harmony. It is found in a small New England\ncollection of 1726, but not in any English or Scotch collection. \"Mear\"\nis presumably an American tune.\n\n\n\"WHAT VARIOUS HINDRANCES WE MEET.\"\n\nAnother hymn of Cowper's; and no one ever suffered more deeply the\nplaintive regret in the opening lines, or better wrought into poetic\nexpression an argument for prayer.\n\n What various hindrances we meet\n In coming to a mercy-seat!\n Yet who that knows the worth of prayer\n But wishes to be often there?\n\n Prayer makes the darkest clouds withdraw,\n Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw.\n\nThe whole hymn is (or once was) so thoroughly learned by heart as to be\nfixed in the church among its household words. Preachers to the\ndiffident do not forget to quote--\n\n Have you no words? ah, think again;\n Words flow apace when you _complain_.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Were half the breath thus vainly spent\n To Heaven in supplication sent,\n Our cheerful song would oftener be,\n \"Hear what the Lord hath done for me!\"\n\nAnd there is all the lifetime of a proverb in the couplet--\n\n Satan trembles when he sees\n The weakest saint upon his knees.\n\nTune, Lowell Mason's \"Rockingham.\"\n\n\n\"MY GRACIOUS REDEEMER I LOVE.\"\n\nThis is one of Benjamin Francis's lays of devotion. The Christian\nWelshman who bore that name was a Gospel minister full of Evangelical\nzeal, who preached in many places, though his pastoral home was with the\nBaptist church in Shortwood, Wales. Flattering calls to London could not\ntempt him away from his first and only parish, and he remained there\ntill his triumphant death. He was born in 1734, and died in 1799.\n\n My gracious Redeemer I love,\n His praises aloud I'll proclaim,\n And join with the armies above,\n To shout His adorable name.\n To gaze on His glories divine\n Shall be my eternal employ;\n To see them incessantly shine,\n My boundless, ineffable joy.\n\nTune, \"Birmingham\"--an English melody. Anonymous.\n\n\n\"BLEST BE THE TIE THAT BINDS.\"\n\nPerhaps the best hymn-expression of sacred brotherhood, at least it has\nhad, and still has the indorsement of constant use. The author, John\nFawcett, D.D., is always quoted as the example of his own words, since\nhe sacrificed ambition and personal interest to Christian affection.\n\nBorn near Bradford, Yorkshire, Jan. 6, 1739, and converted under the\npreaching of Whitefield, he joined the Methodists, but afterwards\nbecame a member of the new Baptist church in Bradford. Seven years later\nhe was ordained over the Baptist Society at Wainsgate. In 1772 he\nreceived a call to succeed the celebrated Dr. Gill, in London, and\naccepted. But at the last moment, when his goods were packed for\nremoval, the clinging love of his people, weeping their farewells around\nhim, melted his heart. Their passionate regrets were more than either he\nor his good wife could withstand.\n\n\"I will _stay_,\" he said; \"you may unpack my goods, and we will live for\nthe Lord lovingly together.\"\n\nIt was out of this heart experience that the tender hymn was born.\n\n Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,\n Our comforts and our cares.\n\nDr. Fawcett died July 25, 1817.\n\nTune, \"Boylston,\" L. Mason; or \"Dennis,\" H.G. Naegeli.\n\n\n\"I LOVE THY KINGDOM, LORD.\"\n\n\"Dr. Dwight's Hymn,\" as this is known _par eminence_ among many others\nfrom his pen, is one of the imperishable lyrics of the Christian Church.\nThe real spirit of the hundred and twenty-second Psalm is in it, and it\nis worthy of Watts in his best moments.\n\nTimothy Dwight was born at Northampton, Mass, May 14, 1752, and\ngraduated at Yale College at the age of thirteen. He wrote several\nreligious poems of considerable length. In 1795 he was elected President\nof Yale College, and in 1800 he revised Watts' Psalms, at the request of\nthe General Association of Connecticut, adding a number of translations\nof his own.\n\n I love Thy kingdom, Lord,\n The house of Thine abode,\n The Church our blest Redeemer saved\n With His own precious blood.\n\n I love Thy Church, O God;\n Her walls before Thee stand,\n Dear as the apple of Thine eye,\n And graven on Thy hand.\n\nDr. Dwight died Jan. 11, 1817.\n\nTune, \"St. Thomas,\" Aaron Williams, (1734-1776.)\n\nMr. Hubert P. Main, however, believes the author to be Handel. It\nappeared as the second movement of a four-movement tune in Williams's\n1762 collection, which contained pieces by the great masters, with his\nown; but while not credited to Handel, Williams did not claim it\nhimself.\n\n\n\"MID SCENES OF CONFUSION.\"\n\nThis hymn, common in chapel hymnbooks half a century and more ago, is\nsaid to have been written by the Rev. David Denham, about 1826.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Home, Sweet Home\" was composed, according to the old account, by John\nHoward Payne as one of the airs in his opera of \"Clari, the Maid of\nMilan,\" which was brought out in London at Drury Lane in 1823. But\nCharles Mackay, the English poet, in the London Telegraph, asserts that\nSir Henry Bishop, an eminent musician, in his vain search for a Sicilian\nnational air, _invented_ one, and that it was the melody of \"Home, sweet\nHome,\" which he afterwards set to Howard Payne's words. Mr. Mackay had\nthis story from Sir Henry himself.\n\n Mid scenes of confusion and creature complaints\n How sweet to my soul is communion with saints,\n To find at the banquet of mercy there's room\n And feel in the presence of Jesus at home.\n Home, home, sweet, sweet home!\n Prepare me, dear Savior for glory, my home.\n\nJohn Howard Payne, author at least, of the original _words_ of \"Home,\nSweet Home,\" was born in New York City June 9, 1791. He was a singer,\nand became an actor and theatrical writer. He composed the words of his\nimmortal song in the year 1823, when he was himself homeless and hungry\nand sheltered temporarily in an attic in Paris.\n\nHis fortunes improved at last, and he was appointed to represent his\nnative country as consul in Tunis, where he died, Apr. 9, 1852.\n\n\n\"O, COULD I SPEAK THE MATCHLESS WORTH.\"\n\nThe writer of this hymn of worshiping ardor and exalted Christian love\nwas an English Baptist minister, the Rev. Samuel Medley. He was born at\nCheshunt, Hertfordshire, June 23, 1738, and at eighteen years of age\nentered the Royal Navy, where, though he had been piously educated, he\nbecame dissipated and morally reckless. Wounded in a sea fight off Cape\nLagos, and in dread of amputation he prayed penitently through nearly a\nwhole night, and in the morning the surprised surgeon told him his limb\ncould be saved.\n\nThe voice of his awakened conscience was not wholly disregarded, though\nit was not till some time after he left the navy that his vow to begin a\nreligious life was sincerely kept. After teaching school for four years,\nhe began to preach in 1766, Wartford in Hertfordshire being the first\nscene of his godly labors. He died in Liverpool July 17, 1799, at the\nend of a faithful ministry there of twenty-seven years. A small edition\nof his hymns was published during his lifetime, in 1789.\n\n O could I speak the matchless worth,\n O could I sound the glories forth\n Which in my Saviour shine,\n I'd soar and touch the heavenly strings\n And vie with Gabriel while he sings,\n In notes almost divine!\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Colebrook,\" a plain choral; but with a noble movement, by Henry Smart,\nis the English music to this fine lyric, but Dr. Mason's \"Ariel\" is the\nAmerican favorite. It justifies its name, for it has wings--in both full\nharmony and duet--and its melody feels the glory of the hymn at every\nbar.\n\n\n\"ROCK OF AGES CLEFT FOR ME.\"\n\nAugustus Montagu Toplady, author of this almost universal hymn, was born\nat Farnham, Surrey, Eng., Nov. 4, 1740. Educated at Westminster School,\nand Trinity College, Dublin, he took orders in the Established Church.\nIn his doctrinal debates with the Wesleys he was a harsh\ncontroversialist; but his piety was sincere, and marked late in life by\nexalted moods. Physically he was frail, and his fiery zeal wore out his\nbody. Transferred from his vicarage at Broad Hembury, Devonshire, to\nKnightsbridge, London, at twenty-eight years of age, his health began to\nfail before he was thirty-five, and in one of his periods of illness he\nwrote--\n\n When languor and disease invade\n This trembling house of clay,\n 'Tis sweet to look beyond my pains\n And long to fly away.\n\nAnd the same homesickness for heaven appears under a different figure in\nanother hymn--\n\n At anchor laid remote from home,\n Toiling I cry, \"Sweet Spirit, come!\n Celestial breeze, no longer stay,\n But swell my sails, and speed my way!\"\n\nPossessed of an ardent religious nature, his spiritual frames\nexemplified in a notable degree the emotional side of Calvinistic piety.\nEdward Payson himself, was not more enraptured in immediate view of\ndeath than was this young London priest and poet. Unquestioning faith\nbecame perfect certainty. As in the bold metaphor of \"Rock of Ages,\" the\nfaith finds voice in--\n\n A debtor to mercy alone,\n\n--and other hymns in his collection of 1776, two years before the end\ncame. Most of this devout writing was done in his last days, and he\ncontinued it as long as strength was left, until, on the 11th of August,\n1778, he joyfully passed away.\n\nSomehow there was always something peculiarly heartsome and \"filling\" to\npious minds in the lines of Toplady in days when his minor hymns were\nmore in vogue than now, and they were often quoted, without any idea\nwhose making they were. \"At anchor laid\" was crooned by good old ladies\nat their spinning-wheels, and godly invalids found \"When languor and\ndisease invade\" a comfort next to their Bibles.\n\n\"Rock of Ages\" is said to have been written after the author, during a\nsuburban walk, had been forced to shelter himself from a thunder\nshower, under a cliff. This is, however, but one of several stories\nabout the birth-occasion of the hymn.\n\nIt has been translated into many languages. One of the foreign\ndignitaries visiting Queen Victoria at her \"Golden Jubilee\" was a native\nof Madagascar, who surprised her by asking leave to sing, but delighted\nher, when leave was given, by singing \"Rock of Ages.\" It was a favorite\nof hers--and of Prince Albert, who whispered it when he was dying.\nPeople who were school-children when Rev. Justus Vinton came home to\nWillington, Ct., with two Karen pupils, repeat to-day the \"la-pa-ta,\ni-oo-i-oo\" caught by sound from the brown-faced boys as they sang their\nnative version of \"Rock of Ages.\"\n\nGen. J.E.B. Stuart, the famous Confederate Cavalry leader, mortally\nwounded at Yellow Tavern, Va., and borne to a Richmond hospital, called\nfor his minister and requested that \"Rock of Ages\" be sung to him.\n\nThe last sounds heard by the few saved from the wreck of the steamer\n\"London\" in the Bay of Biscay, 1866, were the voices of the helpless\npassengers singing \"Rock of Ages\" as the ship went down.\n\nA company of Armenian Christians sang \"Rock of Ages\" in their native\ntongue while they were being massacred in Constantinople.\n\nNo history of this grand hymn of faith forgets the incident of Gladstone\nwriting a Latin translation of it while sitting in the House of\nCommons. That remarkable man was as masterly in his scholarly\nrecreations as in his statesmanship. The supreme Christian sentiment of\nthe hymn had permeated his soul till it spoke to him in a dead language\nas eloquently as in the living one; and this is what he made of it:\n\n\n_TOPLADY._\n\n Rock of ages, cleft for me,\n Let me hide myself in Thee;\n Let the water and the blood,\n From Thy riven side which flowed,\n Be of sin the double cure,\n Cleanse me from its guilt and power.\n\n Not the labor of my hands\n Can fulfil Thy law's demands;\n Could my zeal no respite know,\n Could my tears for ever flow,\n All for sin could not atone,\n Thou must save, and Thou alone.\n\n Nothing in my hand I bring,\n Simply to Thy cross I cling;\n Naked, come to Thee for dress,\n Helpless, look to Thee for grace:\n Foul, I to the fountain fly;\n Wash, me, Saviour, or I die.\n\n Whilst I draw this fleeting breath,\n When my eyestrings break in death;\n When I soar through tracts unknown,\n See Thee on Thy judgment throne,\n Rock of ages, cleft for me,\n Let me hide myself in Thee.\n\n\n_GLADSTONE._\n\n Jesus, pro me perforatus,\n Condar intra tuum latus;\n Tu per lympham profluentem,\n Tu per sanguinem tepentem,\n In peccata mi redunda,\n Tolle culpam, sordes munda!\n\n Coram Te nec justus forem\n Quamvis tota vi laborem,\n Nec si fide nunquam cesso,\n Fletu stillans indefesso;\n Tibi soli tantum munus--\n Salva me, Salvator Unus!\n\n Nil in manu mecum fero,\n Sed me versus crucem gero:\n Vestimenta nudus oro,\n Opem debilis imploro,\n Fontem Christi quaero immundus,\n Nisi laves, moribundus.\n\n Dum hos artus vita regit,\n Quando nox sepulcro legit;\n Mortuos quum stare jubes,\n Sedens Judex inter nubes;--\n Jesus, pro me perforatus,\n Condar intra tuum latus!\n\nThe wonderful hymn has suffered the mutations common to time and taste.\n\n When I soar thro' tracts unknown\n\n--becomes--\n\n When I soar to worlds unknown,\n\n--getting rid of the unpoetic word, and bettering the elocution, but\nmissing the writer's thought (of the unknown _path_,--instead of going\nto many \"worlds\"). The Unitarians have their version, with substitutes\nfor the \"atonement lines.\"\n\nBut the Christian lyric maintains its life and inspiration through the\nvicissitudes of age and use, as all intrinsically superior things can\nand will,--and as in the twentieth line,--\n\n When my eyestrings break in death;\n\n--modernized to--\n\n When my eyelids close in death,\n\n--the hymn will ever adapt itself to the new exigencies of common\nspeech, without losing its vitality and power.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA happy inspiration of Dr. Thomas Hastings made the hymn and music\ninevitably one. Almost anywhere to call for the tune of \"Toplady\"\n(namesake of the pious poet) is as unintelligible to the multitude as\n\"Key\" would be to designate the \"Star-spangled Banner.\" The common\npeople--thanks to Dr. Hastings--have learned \"Rock of Ages\" by _sound_.\n\nThomas Hastings was born in Washington, Ct., 1784. For eight years he\nwas editor of the _Western Recorder_, but he gave his life to church\nmusic, and besides being a talented tone-poet he wrote as many as six\nhundred hymns. In 1832, by invitation from twelve New York churches, he\nwent to that city, and did the main work of his life there, dying, in\n1872, at the good old age of eighty-nine. His musical collections number\nfifty-three. He wrote his famous tune in 1830.\n\n[Illustration: Thomas Hastings]\n\n\n\"MY SOUL BE ON THY GUARD\"\n\nStrangely enough, this hymn, a trumpet note of Christian warning and\nresolution, was written by one who himself fell into unworthy ways.[12]\nBut the one strong and spiritual watch-song by which he is remembered\nappeals for him, and lets us know possibly, something of his own\nconflicts. We can be thankful for the struggle he once made, and for the\nhymn it inspired. It is a voice of caution to others.\n\n[Footnote 12: I have been unable to verify this statement found in Mr.\nButterworth's \"Story of the Hymns.\"--T.B.]\n\nGeorge Heath, the author, was an English minister, born in 1781; died\n1822. For a time he was pastor of a Presbyterian Church at Honiton,\nDevonshire, and was evidently a prolific writer, having composed a\nhundred and forty-four hymns, an edition of which was printed.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nNo other has been so familiarly linked with the words as Lowell Mason's\n\"Laban\" (1830). It has dash and animation enough to reenforce the hymn,\nand give it popular life, even if the hymn had less earnestness and\nvigor of its own.\n\n Ne'er think the vict'ry won\n Nor lay thine armor down:\n Thy arduous work will not be done\n Till thou hast gained thy crown.\n\n Fight on, my soul till death\n Shall bring thee to thy God;\n He'll take thee at thy parting breath\n To His divine abode.\n\n\n\"PEOPLE OF THE LIVING GOD.\"\n\nMontgomery _felt_ every line of this hymn as he committed it to paper.\nHe wrote it when, after years in the \"swim\" of social excitements and\nambitions, where his young independence swept him on, he came back to\nthe little church of his boyhood. His father and mother had gone to the\nWest Indies as missionaries, and died there. He was forty-three years\nold when, led by divine light, he sought readmission to the Moravian\n\"meeting\" at Fulneck, and anchored happily in a haven of peace.\n\n People of the living God\n I have sought the world around,\n Paths of sin and sorrow trod,\n Peace and comfort nowhere found:\n\n Now to you my spirit turns--\n Turns a fugitive unblest;\n Brethren, where your altar burns,\n Oh, receive me into rest.\n\nJames Montgomery, son of Rev. John Montgomery, was born at Irvine,\nAyrshire, Scotland, Nov. 4, 1771, and educated at the Moravian Seminary\nat Fulneck, Yorkshire, Eng. He became the editor of the _Sheffield\nIris_, and his pen was busy in non-professional as well as professional\nwork until old age. He died in Sheffield, April 30, 1854.\n\nHis literary career was singularly successful; and a glance through any\ncomplete edition of his poems will tell us why. His hymns were all\npublished during his lifetime, and all, as well as his longer pieces,\nhave the purity and polished beauty, if not the strength, of Addison's\nwork. Like Addison, too, he could say that he had written no line which,\ndying, he would wish to blot.\n\nThe best of Montgomery was in his hymns. These were too many to\nenumerate here, and the more enduring ones too familiar to need\nenumeration. The church and the world will not soon forget \"The Home in\nHeaven,\"--\n\n Forever with the Lord,\n Amen, so let it be.\n Life from the dead is in that word;\n 'Tis immortality.\n\nNor--\n\n O where shall rest be found,\n\n--with its impressive couplet--\n\n 'Tis not the whole of life to live\n Nor all of death to die.\n\nNor the haunting sweetness of--\n\n There is a calm for those who weep.\n\nNor, indeed, the hymn of Christian love just now before us.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe melody exactly suited to the gentle trochaic step of the home-song,\n\"People of the living God,\" is \"Whitman,\" composed for it by Lowell\nMason. Few Christians, in America, we venture to say, could hear an\ninstrument play \"Whitman\" without mentally repeating Montgomery's words.\n\n\n\"TO LEAVE MY DEAR FRIENDS.\"\n\nThis hymn, called \"The Bower of Prayer,\" was dear to Christian hearts in\nmany homes and especially in rural chapel worship half a century ago and\nearlier, and its sweet legato melody still lingers in the memories of\naged men and women.\n\nElder John Osborne, a New Hampshire preacher of the \"Christian\"\n(_Christ-ian_) denomination, is said to have composed the tune (and\npossibly the words) about 1815--though apparently the music was arranged\nfrom a flute interlude in one of Haydn's themes. The warbling notes of\nthe air are full of heart-feeling, and usually the best available treble\nvoice sang it as a solo.\n\n To leave my dear friends and from neighbors to part,\n And go from my home, it affects not my heart\n Like the thought of absenting myself for a day\n From that blest retreat I have chosen to pray,\n I have chosen to pray.\n\n The early shrill notes of the loved nightingale\n That dwelt in the bower, I observed as my bell:\n It called me to duty, while birds in the air\n Sang anthems of praises as I went to prayer,\n As I went to prayer.[13]\n\n How sweet were the zephyrs perfumed by the pine,\n The ivy, the balsam, the wild eglantine,\n But sweeter, O, sweeter superlative were\n The joys that I tasted in answer to prayer,\n In answer to prayer.\n\n[Footnote 13: The _American Vocalist_ omits this stanza as too fanciful\nas well as too crude]\n\n\n\"SAVIOUR, THY DYING LOVE.\"\n\nThis hymn of grateful piety was written in 1862, by Rev. S. Dryden\nPhelps, D.D., of New Haven, and first published in _Pure Gold_, 1871;\nafterwards in the (earlier) _Baptist Hymn and Tune Book_.\n\n Saviour, Thy dying love\n Thou gavest me,\n Nor should I aught withhold\n Dear Lord, from Thee.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Give me a faithful heart,\n Likeness to Thee,\n That each departing day\n Henceforth may see\n Some work of love begun,\n Some deed of kindness done,\n Some wand'rer sought and won,\n Something for Thee.\n\nThe penultimate line, originally \"Some sinful wanderer won,\" was altered\nby the author himself. The hymn is found in most Baptist hymnals, and\nwas inserted by Mr. Sankey in _Gospel Hymns No. 1_. It has since won its\nway into several revival collections and undenominational manuals.\n\nRev. Sylvester Dryden Phelps, D.D., was born in Suffield, Ct., May 15,\n1816, and studied at the Connecticut Literary Institution in that town.\nAn early call to the ministry turned his talents to the service of the\nchurch, and his long settlement--comprising what might be called his\nprincipal life work--was in New Haven, where he was pastor of the First\nBaptist church twenty-nine years. He died there Nov. 23, 1895.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe Rev. Robert Lowry admired the hymn, and gave it a tune perfectly\nsuited to its metre and spirit. It has never been sung in any other. The\nusual title of it is \"Something for Jesus.\" The meaning and sentiment of\nboth words and music are not unlike Miss Havergal's--\n\n I gave my life for thee.\n\n\n\"IN SOME WAY OR OTHER.\"\n\nThis song of Christian confidence was written by Mrs. Martha A.W. Cook,\nwife of the Rev. Parsons Cook, editor of the _Puritan Recorder_, Boston.\n\nIt was published in the _American Messenger_ in 1870, and is still in\nuse here, as a German version of it is in Germany. The first stanza\nfollows, in the two languages:\n\n In some way or other the Lord will provide.\n It may not be my way,\n It may not be thy way,\n And yet in His own way\n The Lord will provide.\n\n Sei's so oder anders, der Herr wird's versehn;\n Mag's nicht sein, wie ich will,\n Mag's nicht sein, wie du willst,\n Doch wird's sein, wie Er will:\n Der Herr wird's versehn.\n\nIn the English version the easy flow of the two last lines into one\nsentence is an example of rhythmic advantage over the foreign syntax.\n\nMrs. Cook was married to the well-known clergyman and editor, Parsons\nCook, (1800-1865) in Bridgeport, Ct., and survived him at his death in\nLynn, Mass. She was Miss Martha Ann Woodbridge, afterwards Mrs. Hawley,\nand a widow at the time of her re-marriage as Mr. Cook's second wife.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nProfessor Calvin S. Harrington, of Wesleyan University, Middletown, Ct.,\nset music to the words as printed in _Winnowed Hymns_ (1873) and\narranged by Dr. Eben Tourjee, organizer of the great American Peace\nJubilee in Boston. In the _Gospel Hymns_ it is, however, superseded by\nthe more popular composition of Philip Phillips.\n\nDr. Eben Tourjee, late Dean of the College of Music in Boston\nUniversity, and founder and head of the New England Conservatory, was\nborn in Warwick, R.I., June 1, 1834. With only an academy education he\nrose by native genius, from a hard-working boyhood to be a teacher of\nmusic and a master of its science. From a course of study in Europe he\nreturned and soon made his reputation as an organizer of musical schools\nand sangerfests. The New England Conservatory of Music was first\nestablished by him in Providence, but removed in 1870 to Boston, its\npermanent home. His doctorate of music was conferred upon him by\nWesleyan University. Died in Boston, April 12, 1891.\n\nPhilip Phillips, known as \"the singing Pilgrim,\" was born in Jamestown,\nChautauqua, Co., N.Y., Aug. 13, 1834. He compiled twenty-nine\ncollections of sacred music for Sunday schools, gospel meetings, etc.;\nalso a _Methodist Hymn and Tune Book_, 1866. He composed a great number\nof tunes, but wrote no hymns. Some of his books were published in\nLondon, for he was a cosmopolitan singer, and traveled through Europe\nand Australia as well as America. Died in Delaware, O., June 25, 1875.\n\n\n\"NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE.\"\n\nMr. William Stead, fond of noting what is often believed to be the\n\"providential chain of causes\" in everything that happens, recalls the\nfact that Benjamin Flower, editor of the _Cambridge Intelligencer_,\nwhile in jail (1798) at the instigation of Bp. Watson for an article\ndefending the French Revolution, and criticising the Bishop's political\ncourse, was visited by several sympathizing ladies, one of whom was Miss\nEliza Gould. The young lady's first acquaintance with him there in his\ncell led to an attachment which eventuated in marriage. Of that marriage\nSarah Flower was born. By the theory of providential sequences Mr. Stead\nmakes it appear that the forgotten vindictiveness of a British prelate\n\"was the _causa causans_ of one of the most spiritual and aspiring hymns\nin the Christian Hymnary.\"\n\n\"Nearer, My God, to Thee\" was on the lips of President McKinley as he\nlay dying by a murderer's wicked shot. It is dear to President Roosevelt\nfor its memories of the battle of Las Quasimas, where the Rough Riders\nsang it at the burial of their slain comrades. Bishop Marvin was saved\nby it from hopeless dejection, while practically an exile during the\nCivil War, by hearing it sung in the wilds of Arkansas, by an old woman\nin a log hut.\n\nA letter from Pittsburg, Pa., to a leading Boston paper relates the name\nand experience of a forger who had left the latter city and wandered\neight years a fugitive from justice. On the 5th of November, (Sunday,)\n1905, he found himself in Pittsburg, and ventured into the Dixon\nTheatre, where a religious service was being held, to hear the music.\nThe hymn \"Nearer, My God, to Thee\" so overcame him that he went out\nweeping bitterly. He walked the floor of his room all night, and in the\nmorning telephoned for the police, confessed his name and crime, and\nsurrendered himself to be taken back to the Boston authorities.\n\nMrs. Sarah Flower Adams, author of the noble hymn (supposed to have been\nwritten in 1840), was born at Harlow, Eng., Feb. 22, 1805, and died\nthere in 1848. At her funeral another of her hymns was sung, ending--\n\n When falls the shadow, cold in death\n I yet will sing with fearless breath,\n As comes to me in shade or sun,\n \"Father, Thy will, not mine, be done.\"\n\nThe attempts to _evangelize_ \"Nearer, My God, to Thee\" by those who\ncannot forget that Mrs. Adams was a Unitarian, are to be deplored. Such\nzeal is as needless as trying to sectarianize an Old Testament Psalm.\nThe poem is a perfect religious piece--to be sung as it stands, with\nthanks that it was ever created.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nIn English churches (since 1861) the hymn was and may still be sung to\n\"Horbury,\" composed by Rev. John B. Dykes, and \"St. Edmund,\" by Sir\nArthur Sullivan. Both tunes are simple and appropriate, but such a hymn\nearns and inevitably acquires a single tune-voice, so that its music\ninstantly names it by its words when played on instruments. Such a voice\nwas given it by Lowell Mason's \"Bethany,\" (1856). (Why not \"Bethel,\"\ninstead, every one who notes the imagery of the words must wonder.)\n\"Bethany\" appealed to the popular heart, and long ago (in America) hymn\nand tune became each other's property. It is even simpler than the\nEnglish tunes, and a single hearing fixes it in memory.\n\n\n\"I NEED THEE EVERY HOUR.\"\n\nMrs. Annie Sherwood Hawks, who wrote this hymn in 1872, was born in\nHoosick, N.Y., in 1835.\n\nShe sent the hymn (five stanzas) to Dr. Lowry, who composed its tune,\nadding a chorus, to make it more effective. It first appeared in a small\ncollection of original songs prepared by Lowry and Doane for the\nNational Baptist Sunday School Association, which met at Cincinnati, O.,\nNovember, 1872, and was sung there.\n\n I need Thee every hour,\n Most gracious Lord,\n No tender voice like Thine\n Can peace afford.\n\n CHORUS.\n I need Thee, Oh, I need Thee,\n Every hour I need Thee;\n Oh, bless me now, my Saviour,\n I come to Thee!\n\nOne instance, at least, of a hymn made doubly impressive by its chorus\nwill be attested by all who have sung or heard the pleading words and\nmusic of Mrs. Hawks' and Dr. Lowry's \"I need Thee, Oh, I need Thee.\"\n\n\n\"I GAVE MY LIFE FOR THEE.\"\n\nThis was written in her youth by Frances Ridley Havergal, and was\nsuggested by the motto over the head of Christ in the great picture,\n\"Ecce Homo,\" in the Art Gallery of Dusseldorf, Prussia, where she was at\nschool. The sight--as was the case with young Count Zinzendorf--seems to\nhave had much to do with the gifted girl's early religious experience,\nand indeed exerted its influence on her whole life. The motto read \"I\ndid this for thee; what doest thou for me?\" and the generative effect of\nthe solemn picture and its question soon appeared in the hymn that\nflowed from Miss Havergal's heart and pen.\n\n I gave my life for thee,\n My precious blood I shed,\n That thou might'st ransomed be\n And quickened from the dead.\n I gave my life for thee:\n What hast thou given for me?\n\nMiss Frances Ridley Havergal, sometimes called \"The Theodosia of the\n19th century,\" was born at Astley, Worcestershire, Eng., Dec. 14, 1836.\nHer father, Rev. William Henry Havergal, a clergyman of the Church of\nEngland, was himself a poet and a skilled musician, and much of the\ndaughter's ability came to her by natural bequest as well as by\neducation. Born a poet, she became a fine instrumentalist, a composer\nand an accomplished linguist. Her health was frail, but her life was a\ndevoted one, and full of good works. Her consecrated _words_ were\ndestined to outlast her by many generations.\n\n\"Writing is _praying_ with me,\" she said. Death met her in 1879, when\nstill in the prime of womanhood.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music that has made this hymn of Miss Havergal familiar in America\nis named from its first line, and was composed by the lamented Philip P.\nBliss (christened Philipp Bliss[14]), a pupil of Dr. George F. Root.\n\n[Footnote 14: Mr. Bliss himself changed the spelling of his name,\npreferring to let the third P. do duty alone, as a middle initial.]\n\nHe was born in Rome, Pa., Jan. 9, 1838, and less than thirty-nine years\nlater suddenly ended his life, a victim of the awful railroad disaster\nat Ashtabula O., Dec. 29, 1876, while returning from a visit to his aged\nmother. His wife, Lucy Young Bliss, perished with him there, in the\nswift flames that enveloped the wreck of the train.\n\nThe name of Mr. Bliss had become almost a household word through his\nnumerous popular Christian melodies, which were the American beginning\nof the series of _Gospel Hymns_. Many of these are still favorite\nprayer-meeting tunes throughout the country and are heard in\nsong-service at Sunday-school and city mission meetings.\n\n\n\"JESUS KEEP ME NEAR THE CROSS.\"\n\nThis hymn, one of the best and probably most enduring of Fanny J.\nCrosby's sacred lyrics, was inspired by Col. 1:29.\n\nFrances Jane Crosby (Mrs. Van Alstyne) the blind poet and hymnist, was\nborn in Southeast, N.Y., March 24, 1820. She lost her eyesight at the\nage of six. Twelve years of her younger life were spent in the New York\nInstitution for the Blind, where she became a teacher, and in 1858 was\nhappily married to a fellow inmate, Mr. Alexander Van Alstyne, a\nmusician.\n\nGeorge F. Root was for a time musical instructor at the Institution, and\nshe began early to write words to his popular song-tunes. \"Rosalie, the\nPrairie Flower,\" and the long favorite melody, \"There's Music in the\nAir\" are among the many to which she supplied the text and the song\nname.\n\nShe resides in Bridgeport, Ct., where she enjoys a serene and happy old\nage. She has written over six thousand hymns, and possibly will add\nother pearls to the cluster before she goes up to join the singing\nsaints.\n\n Jesus, keep me near the Cross,\n There a precious Fountain\n Free to all, a healing stream,\n Flows from Calv'ry's mountain.\n\n CHORUS.\n In the Cross, in the Cross\n Be my glory ever,\n Till my raptured soul shall find\n Rest beyond the river.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Near the Cross! O Lamb of God,\n Bring its scenes before me;\n Help me walk from day to day\n With its shadows o'er me.\n\n CHORUS.\n\nWilliam Howard Doane, writer of the music to this hymn, was born in\nPreston, Ct., Feb. 3, 1831. He studied at Woodstock Academy, and\nsubsequently acquired a musical education which earned him the degree of\nDoctor of Music conferred upon him by Denison University in 1875. Having\na mechanical as well as musical gift, he patented more than seventy\ninventions, and was for some years engaged with manufacturing concerns,\nboth as employee and manager, but his interest in song-worship and in\nSunday-school and church work never abated, and he is well known as a\ntrainer of choirs and composer of some of the best modern devotional\ntunes. His home is in Cincinnati, O.\n\n\n\"I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY.\"\n\nThis threnody (we may almost call it) of W.A. Muhlenberg, illustrating\none phase of Christian experience, was the outpouring of a poetic\nmelancholy not uncommon to young and finely strung souls. He composed it\nin his twenties,--long before he became \"Doctor\" Muhlenberg,--and for\nyears afterwards tried repeatedly to alter it to a more cheerful tone.\nBut the poem had its mission, and it had fastened itself in the public\nimagination, either by its contagious sentiment or the felicity of its\ntune, and the author was obliged to accept the fame of it as it\noriginally stood.\n\nWilliam Augustus Muhlenberg D.D. was born in Philadelphia, Sept. 16,\n1796, the great-grandson of Dr. Henry M. Muhlenberg, founder of the\nLutheran church in America. In 1817 he left his ancestral communion, and\nbecame an Episcopal priest.\n\nAs Rector of St. James church, Lancaster, Pa., he interested himself in\nthe improvement of ecclesiastical hymnody, and did much good reforming\nwork. After a noble and very active life as promoter of religious\neducation and Christian union, and as a friend and benefactor of the\npoor, he died April, 8, 1877, in St. Luke's Hospital, N.Y.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThis was composed by Mr. George Kingsley in 1833, and entitled\n\"Frederick\" (dedicated to the Rev. Frederick T. Gray). Issued first as\nsheet music, it became popular, and soon found a place in the hymnals.\nDr. Louis Benson says of the conditions and the fancy of the time, \"The\nstandard of church music did not differ materially from that of parlor\nmusic.... Several editors have attempted to put a newer tune in the\nplace of Mr. Kingsley's. It was in vain, simply because words and melody\nboth appeal to the same taste.\"\n\n[Illustration: Frances Ridley Havergal]\n\n\n\"SUN OF MY SOUL, MY SAVIOUR DEAR.\"\n\nThis gem from Keble's _Christian Year_ illustrates the life and\ncharacter of its pious author, and, like all the hymns of that\ncelebrated collection, is an incitive to spiritual thought for the\nthoughtless, as well as a language for those who stand in the Holy of\nHolies.\n\nThe Rev. John Keble was born in Caln, St. Aldwyn, April 25, 1792. He\ntook his degree of A.M. and was ordained and settled at Fairford, where\nhe began the parochial work that ceased only with his life. He died at\nBournmouth, March 29, 1866.\n\nHis settlement at Fairford, in charge of three small curacies, satisfied\nhis modest ambition, though altogether they brought him only about L100\nper year. Here he preached, wrote his hymns and translations, performed\nhis pastoral work, and was happy. Temptation to wider fields and larger\nsalary never moved him.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music to this hymn of almost unparalleled poetic and spiritual\nbeauty was arranged from a German Choral of Peter Ritter (1760-1846) by\nWilliam Henry Monk, Mus. Doc., born London, 1823. Dr. Monk was a\nlecturer, composer, editor, and professor of vocal music at King's\nCollege. This noble tune appears sometimes under the name \"Hursley\" and\nsupersedes an earlier one (\"Halle\") by Thomas Hastings.\n\n Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear,\n It is not night if Thou be near.\n O may no earth-born cloud arise\n To hide Thee from Thy servants' eyes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Abide with me from morn till eve,\n For without Thee I cannot live\n Abide with me when night is nigh,\n For without Thee I cannot die.\n\nThe tune \"Hursley\" is a choice example of polyphonal sweetness in\nuniform long notes of perfect chord.\n\nThe tune of \"Canonbury,\" by Robert Schumann, set to Keble's hymn, \"New\nevery morning is the love,\" is deservedly a favorite for flowing long\nmetres, but it could never replace \"Hursley\" with \"Sun of my soul.\"\n\n\n\"DID CHRIST O'ER SINNERS WEEP?\"\n\nThe Rev. Benjamin Beddome wrote this tender hymn-poem while pastor of\nthe Baptist Congregation at Bourton-on-the-water, Gloucestershire, Eng.\nHe was born at Henley, Chatwickshire, Jan. 23, 1717. Settled in 1743,\nhe remained with the same church till his death, Sept. 3, 1795. His\nhymns were not collected and published till 1818.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Dennis,\" a soft and smoothly modulated harmony, is oftenest sung to the\nwords, and has no note out of sympathy with their deep feeling.\n\n Did Christ o'er sinners weep,\n And shall our cheeks be dry?\n Let floods of penitential grief\n Burst forth from every eye.\n\n The Son of God in tears\n Admiring angels see!\n Be thou astonished, O my soul;\n He shed those tears for thee.\n\n He wept that we might weep;\n Each sin demands a tear:\n In heaven alone no sin is found,\n And there's no weeping there.\n\nThe tune of \"Dennis\" was adapted by Lowell Mason from Johann Georg\nNaegeli, a Swiss music publisher, composer and poet. He was born in\nZurich, 1768. It is told of him that his irrepressible genius once\ntempted him to violate the ethics of authorship. While publishing\nBeethoven's three great solo sonatas (Opus 31) he interpolated two bars\nof his own, an act much commented upon in musical circles, but which\ndoes not seem to have cost him Beethoven's friendship. Possibly, like\nMurillo to the servant who meddled with his paintings, the great master\nforgave the liberty, because the work was so good.\n\nNaegeli's compositions are mostly vocal, for school and church use,\nthough some are of a gay and playful nature. The best remembered of his\nsecular and sacred styles are his blithe aria to the song of Moore,\n\"Life let us cherish, while yet the taper glows\" and the sweet choral\nthat voices Beddome's hymn.\n\n\n\"MY JESUS, I LOVE THEE.\"\n\nThe real originator of the _Coronation Hymnal_, a book into whose making\nwent five years of prayer, was Dr. A.J. Gordon, late Pastor of the\nClarendon St. Baptist church, Boston. While the volume was slowly taking\nform and plan he was wont to hum to himself, or cause to be played by\none of his family, snatches and suggestions of new airs that came to him\nin connection with his own hymns, and others which seemed to have no\nsuitable music. The anonymous hymn, \"My Jesus, I Love Thee,\" he found in\na London hymn-book, and though the tune to which it had been sung in\nEngland was sent to him some time later, it did not sound sympathetic.\nDissatisfied, and with the ideal in his mind of what the feeling should\nbe in the melody to such a hymn, he meditated and prayed over the words\ntill in a moment of inspiration the beautiful air sang itself to him[15]\nwhich with its simple concords has carried the hymn into the chapels of\nevery denomination.\n\n[Footnote 15: The fact that this sweet melody recalls to some a similar\ntune sung sixty years ago reminds us again of the story of the tune\n\"America.\" It is not impossible that an unconscious _memory_ helped to\nshape the air that came to Dr. Gordon's mind; though unborrowed\nsimilarities have been inevitable in the whole history of music.]\n\n My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine,\n For Thee all the pleasures of sin I resign;\n My gracious Redeemer, my Saviour art Thou,\n If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I will love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,\n And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath,\n And say when the death-dew lies cold on my brow,\n If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.\n\n In mansions of glory and endless delight\n I'll ever adore Thee, unveiled to my sight,\n And sing, with the glittering crown on my brow,\n If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.\n\nThe memory of the writer returns to a day in a railway-car en route to\nthe great Columbian Fair in Chicago when the tired passengers were\nsuddenly surprised and charmed by the music of this melody. A young\nChristian man and woman, husband and wife, had begun to sing \"My Jesus,\nI love Thee.\" Their voices (a tenor and soprano) were clear and sweet,\nand every one of the company sat up to listen with a look of mingled\nadmiration and relief. Here was something, after all, to make a long\njourney less tedious. They sang all the four verses and paused. There\nwas no clapping of hands, for a reverential hush had been cast over the\naudience by the sacred music. Instead of the inevitable applause that\nfollows mere entertainment, a gentle but eager request for more secured\nthe repetition of the delightful duet. This occurred again and again,\ntill every one in the car--and some had never heard the tune or words\nbefore--must have learned them by heart. Fatigue was forgotten, miles\nhad been reduced to furlongs in a weary trip, and a company of strangers\nhad been lifted to a holier plane of thought.\n\nBesides this melody there are four tunes by Dr. Gordon in his\ncollection, three of them with his own words. In all there are eleven of\nhis hymns. Of these the \"Good morning in Glory,\" set to his music, is an\nemotional lyric admirable in revival meetings, and the one beginning \"O\nHoly Ghost, Arise\" is still sung, and called for affectionately as\n\"Gordon's Hymn.\"\n\nRev. Adoniram Judson Gordon D.D. was born in New Hampton, N.H., April\n19, 1836, and died in Boston, Feb. 2d, 1895, after a life of unsurpassed\nusefulness to his fellowmen and devotion to his Divine Master. Like\nPhillips Brooks he went to his grave \"in all his glorious prime,\" and\nhis loss is equally lamented. He was a descendant of John Robinson of\nLeyden.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nMISSIONARY HYMNS.\n\n\n\"JESUS SHALL REIGN WHERE'ER THE SUN.\"\n\nOne of Watts' sublimest hymns, this Hebrew ode to the final King and His\nendless dominion expands the majestic prophesy in the seventy-second\nPsalm:\n\n Jesus shall reign where'er the sun\n Does his successive journeys run,\n His kingdom stretch from shore to shore\n Till moons shall wax and wane no more.\n\nThe hymn itself could almost claim to be known \"where'er the sun\" etc.,\nfor Christian missionaries have sung it in every land, if not in every\nlanguage.\n\nOne of the native kings in the South Sea Islands, who had been converted\nthrough the ministry of English missionaries, substituted a Christian\nfor a pagan constitution in 1862. There were five thousand of his\nsubjects gathered at the ceremonial, and they joined as with one voice\nin singing this hymn.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Old Hundred\" has often lent the notes of its great plain-song to the\nsonorous lines, and \"Duke Street,\" with superior melody and scarcely\ninferior grandeur, has given them wings; but the choice of many for\nmusic that articulates the life of the hymn would be the tune of\n\"Samson,\" from Handel's Oratorio so named. It appears as No. 469 in the\n_Evangelical Hymnal_.\n\nHandel had no peer in the art or instinct of making a note speak a word.\n\n\n\"JOY TO THE WORLD! THE LORD IS COME!\"\n\nThis hymn, also by Watts, is often sung as a Christmas song; but \"The\nSaviour Reigns\" and \"He Rules the World\" are bursts of prophetic triumph\nalways apt and stimulating in missionary meetings.\n\nHere, again, the great Handel lends appropriate aid, for \"Antioch,\" the\npopular tone-consort of the hymn, is an adaptation from his \"Messiah.\"\nThe arrangement has been credited to Lowell Mason, but he seems to have\ntaken it from an English collection by Clark of Canterbury.\n\n\n\"O'ER THE GLOOMY HILLS OF DARKNESS.\"\n\n_Dros y brinian tywyl niwliog._\n\nThis notable hymn was written, probably about 1750, by the Rev. William\nWilliams, a Welsh Calvinistic Methodist, born at Cefnycoed, Jan. 7,\n1717, near Llandovery. He began the study of medicine, but took deacon's\norders, and was for a time an itinerant preacher, having left the\nestablished Church. Died at Pantycelyn, Jan. 1, 1781.\n\nHis hymn, like the two preceding, antedates the great Missionary\nMovement by many years.\n\n O'er the gloomy hills of darkness\n Look my soul! be still, and gaze!\n See the promises advancing\n To a glorious Day of grace!\n Blessed Jubilee,\n Let thy glorious morning dawn!\n\n Let the dark, benighted pagan,\n Let the rude barbarian see\n That divine and glorious conquest\n Once obtained on Calvary.\n Let the Gospel\n Loud resound from pole to pole.\n\nThis song of anticipation has dropped out of the modern hymnals, but the\nlast stanza lingers in many memories.\n\n Fly abroad, thou mighty Gospel!\n Win and conquer, never cease;\n May thy lasting wide dominion\n Multiply and still increase.\n Sway Thy scepter,\n Saviour, all the world around!\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOftener than any other the music of \"Zion\" has been the expression of\nWilliam Williams' Missionary Hymn. It was composed by Thomas Hastings,\nin Washington, Ct., 1830.\n\n\n\"HASTEN, LORD, THE GLORIOUS TIME.\"\n\n Hasten, Lord, the glorious time\n When beneath Messiah's sway\n Every nation, every clime\n Shall the Gospel call obey.\n Mightiest kings its power shall own,\n Heathen tribes His name adore,\n Satan and his host o'erthrown\n Bound in chains shall hurt no more.\n\nMiss Harriet Auber, the author of this melodious hymn, was a daughter of\nJames Auber of London, and was born in that city, Oct. 4, 1773. After\nleaving London she led a secluded life at Broxbourne and Hoddesdon, in\nHertfordshire, writing devotional poetry and sacred songs and\nparaphrases.\n\nHer _Spirit of the Psalms_, published in 1829, was a collection of\nlyrics founded on the Biblical Psalms. \"Hasten Lord,\" etc., is from Ps.\n72, known for centuries to Christendom as one of the Messianic Psalms.\nHer best-known hymns have the same inspiration, as--\n\n Wide, ye heavenly gates, unfold.\n\n Sweet is the work, O Lord.\n\n With joy we hail the sacred day.\n\nMiss Auber died in Hoddesdon, Jan. 20, 1862. She lived to witness and\nsympathise with the pioneer missionary enterprise of the 19th century,\nand, although she could not stand among the leaders of the battle-line\nin extending the conquest of the world for Christ, she was happy in\nhaving written a campaign hymn which they loved to sing. (It is curious\nthat so pains-taking a work as Julian's _Dictionary of Hymns and\nHymn-writers_ credits \"With joy we hail the sacred day\" to both Miss\nAuber and Henry Francis Lyte. Coincidences are known where different\nhymns by different authors begin with the same line; and in this case\none writer was dead before the other's works were published. Possibly\nthe collector may have seen a forgotten hymn of Lyte's, with that first\nline.)\n\nThe tune that best interprets this hymn in spirit and in living _music_\nis Lowell Mason's \"Eltham.\" Its harmony is like a chime of bells.\n\n\n\"LET PARTY NAMES NO MORE.\"\n\n Let party names no more\n The Christian world o'erspread;\n Gentile and Jew, and bond and free,\n Are one in Christ the Head.\n\nThis hymn of Rev. Benjamin Beddome sounds like a prelude to the grand\nrally of the Christian Churches a generation later for united advance\ninto foreign fields. It was an after-sermon hymn--like so many of Watts\nand Doddridge--and spoke a good man's longing to see all sects stand\nshoulder to shoulder in a common crusade.\n\nTune--Boylston.\n\n\n\"WATCHMAN, TELL US OF THE NIGHT.\"\n\nThe tune written to this pealing hymn of Sir John Bowring by Lowell\nMason has never been superseded. In animation and vocal splendor it\ncatches the author's own clear call, echoing the shout of Zion's\nsentinels from city to city, and happily reproducing in movement and\nphrase the great song-dialogue. Words and music together, the piece\nranks with the foremost missionary lyrics. Like the greater Mason-Heber\nworld-song, it has acquired no arbitrary name, appearing in Mason's own\ntune-books under its first hymn-line and likewise in many others. A few\nhymnals have named it \"Bowring,\" (and why not?) and some later ones\nsimply \"Watchman.\"\n\n 1.\n Watchman, tell us of the night.\n What its signs of promise are!\n (Antistrophe)\n Traveler, on yon mountain height.\n See that glory-beaming star!\n\n 2\n Watchman, does its beauteous ray\n Aught of hope or joy foretell?\n (Antistrophe)\n Trav'ler, yes; it brings the day,\n Promised day of Israel.\n\n 3\n Watchman, tell us of the night;\n Higher yet that star ascends.\n (Antistrophe)\n Trav'ler, blessedness and light\n Peace and truth its course portends.\n\n 4\n Watchman, will its beams alone\n Gild the spot that gave them birth?\n (Antistrophe)\n Trav'ler, ages are its own.\n See! it bursts o'er all the earth.\n\n\n\"YE CHRISTIAN HERALDS, GO PROCLAIM.\"\n\nIn some versions \"Ye Christian _heroes_,\" etc.\n\nProfessor David R. Breed attributes this stirring hymn to Mrs. Vokes (or\nVoke) an English or Welsh lady, who is supposed to have written it\nsomewhere near 1780, and supports the claim by its date of publication\nin _Missionary and Devotional Hymns_ at Portsea, Wales, in 1797. In this\nDr. Breed follows (he says) \"the accepted tradition.\" On the other hand\nthe _Coronation Hymnal_ (1894) refers the authorship to a Baptist\nminister, the Rev. Bourne Hall Draper, of Southampton (Eng.), born 1775,\nand this choice has the approval of Dr. Charles Robinson. The question\noccurs whether, when the hymn was published in good faith as Mrs.\nVokes', it was really the work of a then unknown youth of twenty-two.\n\nThe probability is that the hymn owns a mother instead of a father--and\na grand hymn it is; one of the most stimulating in Missionary\nsong-literature.\n\nThe stanza--\n\n God shield you with a wall of fire!\n With flaming zeal your breasts inspire;\n Bid raging winds their fury cease,\n And hush the tumult into peace,\n\n--has been tampered with by editors, altering the last line to \"Calm the\ntroubled seas,\" etc., (for the sake of the longer vowel;) but the\nsubstitution, \"_He'll_ shield you,\" etc., in the first line, turns a\nprayer into a mere statement.\n\nThe hymn was--and should remain--a God-speed to men like William\nCarey, who had already begun to think and preach his immortal motto,\n\"Attempt great things for God; expect great things of God.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nIs the \"Missionary Chant,\" and no other. Its composer, Heinrich\nChristopher Zeuner, was born in Eisleben, Saxony, Sept. 20, 1795. He\ncame to the United States in 1827, and was for many years organist at\nPark Street Church, Boston, and for the Handel and Haydn Society. In\n1854 he removed to Philadelphia where he served three years as organist\nto St. Andrews Church, and Arch Street Presbyterian. He became insane in\n1857, and in November of that year died by his own hand.\n\nHe published an oratorio \"The Feast of Tabernacles,\" and two popular\nbooks, the _American Harp_, 1832, and _The Ancient Lyre_, 1833. His\ncompositions are remarkably spirited and vigorous, and his work as a\ntune-maker was much in demand during his life, and is sure to continue,\nin its best examples, as long as good sacred music is appreciated.\n\nTo another beautiful missionary hymn of Mrs. Vokes, of quieter tone, but\nsongful and sweet, Dr. Mason wrote the tune of \"Migdol.\" It is its\nmusical twin.\n\n Soon may the last glad song arise\n Through all the millions of the skies.\n That song of triumph which records\n That \"all the earth is now the Lord's.\"\n\n\n\"ON THE MOUNTAIN TOP APPEARING.\"\n\nThis admired and always popular church hymn was written near the\nbeginning of the last century by the Rev. Thomas Kelly, born in Dublin,\n1760. He was the son of the Hon. Chief Baron Thomas Kelly of that city,\na judge of the Irish Court of Common Pleas. His father designed him for\nthe legal profession, but after his graduation at Trinity College he\ntook holy orders in the Episcopal Church, and labored as a clergyman\namong the scenes of his youth for more than sixty years, becoming a\nNonconformist in his later ministry. He was a sweet-souled man, who made\ntroops of friends, and was honored as much for his piety as for his\npoetry, music, and oriental learning.\n\n\"I expect never to die,\" he said, when Lord Plunkett once told him he\nwould reach a great age. He finished his earthly work on the 14th of\nMay, 1855, when he was eighty-five years old. But he still lives. His\nzeal for the coming of the Kingdom of Christ prompted his best hymn.\n\n On the mountain-top appearing,\n Lo! the sacred herald stands,\n Joyful news to Zion bearing,\n Zion long in hostile lands;\n Mourning captive,\n God himself will loose thy bands.\n\n Has the night been long and mournful?\n Have thy friends unfaithful proved?\n Have thy foes been proud and scornful,\n By thy sighs and tears unmoved?\n Cease thy mourning;\n Zion still is well beloved.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nTo presume that Kelly made both words and music together is possible,\nfor he was himself a composer, but no such original tune seems to\nsurvive. In modern use Dr. Hastings' \"Zion\" is most frequently attached\nto the hymn, and was probably written for it.\n\n\n\"YE CHRISTIAN HEROES, WAKE TO GLORY.\"\n\nThis rather crude parody on the \"Marseillaise Hymn\" (see Chap. 9) is\nprinted in the _American Vocalist_, among numerous samples of early New\nEngland psalmody of untraced authorship. It might have been sung at\nprimitive missionary meetings, to spur the zeal and faith of a Francis\nMason or a Harriet Newell. It expresses, at least, the new-kindled\nevangelical spirit of the long-ago consecrations in American church life\nthat first sent the Christian ambassadors to foreign lands, and followed\nthem with benedictions.\n\n[Illustration: The Right Rev. Reginald Heber, D.D.]\n\n Ye Christian heroes, wake to glory:\n Hark, hark! what millions bid you rise!\n See heathen nations bow before you,\n Behold their tears, and hear their cries.\n Shall pagan priest, their errors breeding,\n With darkling hosts, and flags unfurled,\n Spread their delusions o'er the world,\n Though Jesus on the Cross hung bleeding?\n To arms! To arms!\n Christ's banner fling abroad!\n March on! March on! all hearts resolved\n To bring the world to God.\n\n O, Truth of God! can man resign thee,\n Once having felt thy glorious flame?\n Can rolling oceans e'er prevent thee,\n Or gold the Christian's spirit tame?\n Too long we slight the world's undoing;\n The word of God, salvation's plan,\n Is yet almost unknown to man,\n While millions throng the road to ruin.\n To arms! to arms!\n The Spirit's sword unsheath:\n March on! March on! all hearts resolved,\n To victory or death.\n\n\n\"HAIL TO THE LORD'S ANOINTED.\"\n\nJames Montgomery (says Dr. Breed) is \"distinguished as the only layman\nbesides Cowper among hymn-writers of the front rank in the English\nlanguage.\" How many millions have recited and sung his fine and\nexhaustively descriptive poem,--\n\n Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,\n\n--selections from almost any part of which are perfect definitions, and\nhave been standard hymns on prayer for three generations. English\nHymnology would as unwillingly part with his missionary hymns,--\n\n The king of glory we proclaim.\n\n Hark, the song of jubilee!\n\n--and, noblest of all, the lyric of prophecy and praise which heads\nthis paragraph.\n\n Hail to the Lord's anointed,\n King David's greater Son!\n Hail, in the time appointed\n His reign on earth begun.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Arabia's desert ranger\n To Him shall bow the knee,\n The Ethiopian stranger\n His glory come to see.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Kings shall fall down before Him\n And gold and incense bring;\n All nations shall adore Him,\n His praise all people sing.\n\nThe hymn is really the seventy-second Psalm in metre, and as a version\nit suffers nothing by comparison with that of Watts. Montgomery wrote\nit as a Christmas ode. It was sung Dec. 25, 1821, at a Moravian\nConvocation, but in 1822 he recited it at a great missionary meeting in\nLiverpool, and Dr. Adam Clarke was so charmed with it that he inserted\nit in his famous _Commentary_. In no long time afterwards it found its\nway into general use.\n\nThe spirit of his missionary parents was Montgomery's Christian legacy,\nand in exalted poetical moments it stirred him as the divine afflatus\nkindled the old prophets.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music editors in some hymnals have borrowed the favorite choral\nvariously named \"Webb\" in honor of its author, and \"The Morning Light is\nBreaking\" from the first line of its hymn. Later hymnals have chosen\nSebastian Wesley's \"Aurelia\" to fit the hymn, with a movement similar to\nthat of \"Webb\"; also a German B flat melody \"Ellacombe,\" undated, with\nlivelier step and a ringing chime of parts. No one of these is\ninappropriate.\n\nSamuel Sebastian Wesley, grandson of Charles Wesley the great hymnist,\nwas born in London, 1810. Like his father, Samuel, he became a\ndistinguished musician, and was organist at Exeter, Winchester and\nGloucester Cathedrals. Oxford gave him the degree of Doctor of Music.\nHe composed instrumental melodies besides many anthems, services, and\nother sacred pieces for choir and congregational singing. Died in\nGloucester, April 19, 1876.\n\n\n\"FROM GREENLAND'S ICY MOUNTAINS.\"\n\nThe familiar story of this hymn scarcely needs repeating; how one\nSaturday afternoon in the year 1819, young Reginald Heber, Rector of\nHodnet, sitting with his father-in-law, Dean Shipley, and a few friends\nin the Wrexham Vicarage, was suddenly asked by the Dean to \"write\nsomething to sing at the missionary meeting tomorrow,\" and retired to\nanother part of the room while the rest went on talking; how, very soon\nafter, he returned with three stanzas, which were hailed with delighted\napproval; how he then insisted upon adding another octrain to the hymn\nand came back with--\n\n Waft, waft, ye winds, His story,\n And you, ye waters, roll;\n\n--and how the great lyric was sung in Wrexham Church on Sunday morning\nfor the first time in its life. The story is old but always fresh.\nNothing could better have emphasized the good Dean's sermon that day in\naid of \"The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts,\"\nthan that unexpected and glorious lyric of his poet son-in-law.\n\nBy common consent Heber's \"Missionary Hymn\" is the silver trumpet among\nall the rallying bugles of the church.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe union of words and music in this instance is an example of spiritual\naffinity. \"What God hath joined together let no man put asunder.\" The\nstory of the tune is a record of providential birth quite as interesting\nas that of the hymn. In 1823, a lady in Savannah, Ga., having received\nand admired a copy of Heber's lyric from England, desired to sing it or\nhear it sung, but knew no music to fit the metre. She finally thought of\na young clerk in a bank close by, Lowell Mason by name, who sometimes\nwrote music for recreation, and sent her son to ask him if he would make\na tune that would sing the lines. The boy returned in half an hour with\nthe composition that doubled Heber's fame and made his own.\n\nIn the words of Dr. Charles Robinson, \"Like the hymn it voices, it was\ndone at a stroke, and it will last through the ages.\"\n\n\n\"THE MORNING LIGHT IS BREAKING.\"\n\nNot far behind Dr. Heber's _chef-d'oeuvre_ in lyric merit is the still\nmore famous missionary hymn of Dr. S.F. Smith, author of \"My Country,\n'Tis of Thee.\" Another missionary hymn of his which is widely used is--\n\n Yes, my native land, I love thee,\n All thy scenes, I love them well.\n Friends, connections, happy country,\n Can I bid you all farewell?\n Can I leave you\n Far in heathen lands to dwell?\n\nDrs. Nutter and Breed speak of \"The Morning Light is Breaking,\" and its\ncharm as a hymn of peace and promise, and intimate that it has \"gone\nfarther and been more frequently sung than any other missionary hymn.\"\nBesides the English, there are versions of it in four Latin nations, the\nItalian, Spanish, Portuguese and French, and oriental translations in\nChinese and several East Indian tongues and dialects, as well as one in\nSwedish. It author had the rare felicity, while on a visit to his son, a\nmissionary in Burmah, of hearing it sung by native Christians in their\nlanguage, and of being welcomed with an ovation when they knew who he\nwas.\n\n The morning light is breaking!\n The darkness disappears;\n The sons of earth are waking\n To penitential tears;\n Each breeze that sweeps the ocean\n Brings tidings from afar,\n Of nations in commotion,\n Prepared for Zion's war.\n\n Rich dews of grace come o'er us\n In many a gentle shower,\n And brighter scenes before us\n Are opening every hour.\n Each cry to heaven going\n Abundant answer brings,\n And heavenly gales are blowing\n With peace upon their wings.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Blest river of Salvation,\n Pursue thy onward way;\n Flow thou to every nation,\n Nor in thy richness stay.\n Stay not till all the lowly\n Triumphant reach their home;\n Stay not till all the holy\n Proclaim, \"The Lord is come!\"\n\nSamuel Francis Smith, D.D., was born in Boston in 1808, and educated in\nHarvard University (1825-1829). He prepared for the ministry, and was\npastor of Baptist churches at Waterville, Me., and Newton, Mass., before\nentering the service of the American Baptist Missionary union as editor\nof its _Missionary Magazine_.\n\nHe was a scholarly and graceful writer, both in verse and prose, and\nbesides his editorial work, he was frequently an invited participant or\nguest of honor on public occasions, owing to his fame as author of the\nnational hymn. His pure and gentle character made him everywhere beloved\nand reverenced, and to know him intimately in his happy old age was a\nbenediction. He died suddenly and painlessly in his seat on a railway\ntrain, November 16, 1895 in his eighty-eighth year.\n\nDr. Smith wrote twenty-six hymns now more or less in use in church\nworship, and eight for Sabbath school collections.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Millennial Dawn\" is the title given it by a Boston compiler, about\n1844, but since the music and hymn became \"one and indivisable\" it has\nbeen named \"Webb,\" and popularly _known_ as \"Morning Light\" or oftener\nstill by its first hymn-line, \"The morning light is breaking.\"\n\nGeorge James Webb was born near Salisbury, Wiltshire, Eng., June 24,\n1803. He studied music in Salisbury and for several years played the\norgan at Falmouth Church. When still a young man (1830), he came to the\nUnited States, and settled in Boston where he was long the leading\norganist and music teacher of the city. He was associate director of the\nBoston Academy of Music with Lowell Mason, and joint author and editor\nwith him of several church-music collections. Died in Orange, N.J., Nov.\n7, 1887.\n\nDr. Webb's own account of the tune \"Millennial Dawn\" states that he\nwrote it at sea while on his way to America--and to secular words and\nthat he had no idea who first adapted it to the hymn, nor when.\n\n\n\"IF I WERE A VOICE, A PERSUASIVE VOICE.\"\n\nThis animating lyric was written by Charles Mackay. Sung by a good\nvocalist, the fine solo air composed (with its organ chords) by I.B.\nWoodbury, is still a feature in some missionary meetings, especially the\nfourth stanza--\n\n If I were a voice, an immortal voice,\n I would fly the earth around:\n And wherever man to his idols bowed,\n I'd publish in notes both long and loud\n The Gospel's joyful sound.\n I would fly, I would fly, on the wings of day,\n Proclaiming peace on my world-wide way,\n Bidding the saddened earth rejoice--\n If I were a voice, an immortal voice,\n I would fly, I would fly,\n I would fly on the wings of day.\n\nCharles Mackay, the poet, was born in Perth, Scotland, 1814, and\neducated in London and Brussels; was engaged in editorial work on the\n_London Morning Chronicle_ and _Glasgow Argus_, and during the Corn Law\nagitation wrote popular songs, notably \"The Voice of the Crowd\" and\n\"There's a Good Time Coming,\" which (like the far inferior poetry of\nEbenezer Elliot) won the lasting love of the masses for a superior man\nwho could be \"The People's Singer and Friend.\" He came to the United\nStates in 1857 as a lecturer, and again in 1862, remaining three years\nas war correspondent of the _London Times_. Glasgow University made him\nLL.D. in 1847. His numerous songs and poems were collected in a London\nedition. Died Dec. 24, 1889.\n\nIsaac Baker Woodbury was born in Beverly, Mass., 1819, and rose from the\nstation of a blacksmith's apprentice to be a tone-teacher in the church.\nHe educated himself in Europe, returned and sang his life songs, and\ndied in 1858 at the age of thirty-nine.\n\nA tune preferred by many as the finer music is the one written to the\nwords by Mr. Sankey, _Sacred Songs_, No. 2.\n\n\n\"SPEED AWAY! SPEED AWAY!\"\n\nThis inspiriting song of farewell to departing missionaries was written\nin 1890 to Woodbury's appropriate popular melody by Fanny J. Crosby, at\nthe request of Ira D. Sankey. The key-word and refrain are adapted from\nthe original song by Woodbury (1848), but in substance and language the\nthree hymn-stanzas are the new and independent work of this later\nwriter.\n\n Speed away! speed away on your mission of light,\n To the lands that are lying in darkness and night;\n 'Tis the Master's command; go ye forth in His name,\n The wonderful gospel of Jesus proclaim;\n Take your lives in your hand, to the work while 'tis day,\n Speed away! speed away! speed away!\n\n Speed away, speed away with the life-giving Word,\n To the nations that know not the voice of the Lord;\n Take the wings of the morning and fly o'er the wave,\n In the strength of your Master the lost ones to save;\n He is calling once more, not a moment's delay,\n Speed away! speed away! speed away!\n\n Speed away, speed away with the message of rest,\n To the souls by the tempter in bondage oppressed;\n For the Saviour has purchased their ransom from sin,\n And the banquet is ready. O gather them in;\n To the rescue make haste, there's no time for delay,\n Speed away! speed away! speed away!\n\n\n\"ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS!\"\n\nRev. Sabine Baring-Gould, the author of this rousing hymn of Christian\nwarfare, a rector of the Established Church of England and a writer of\nnote, was born at Exeter, Eng., Jan. 28, 1834. Educated at Clare\nCollege, Cambridge, he entered the service of the church, and was\nappointed Rector of East Mersea, Essex, in 1871. He was the author of\nseveral hymns, original and translated, and introduced into England from\nFlanders, numbers of carols with charming old Christmas music. The\n\"Christian Soldiers\" hymn is one of his (original) processionals, and\nthe most inspiring.\n\n Onward, Christian soldiers,\n Marching as to war,\n With the cross of Jesus\n Going on before.\n Christ the Royal Master\n Leads against the foe;\n Forward into battle,\n See, His banners go!\n Onward, Christian soldiers, etc.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Like a mighty army\n Moves the Church of God;\n Brothers, we are treading\n Where the saints have trod;\n We are not divided,\n All one body we,\n One in hope, in doctrine,\n One in charity.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nSir Arthur Seymour Sullivan, Doctor of Music, who wrote the melody for\nthis hymn, was born in London, May 13, 1842. He gained the Mendelssohn\nScholarship at the Royal Academy of Music, and also at the Conservatory\nof Leipsic. He was a fertile genius, and his compositions included\noperettas, symphonies, overtures, anthems, hymn-tunes, an oratorio (\"The\nProdigal Son\"), and almost every variety of tone production, vocal and\ninstrumental. Queen Victoria knighted him in 1883.\n\nThe grand rhythm of \"Onward, Christian Soldiers\"--hymn and tune--is\nirresistible whether in band march or congregational worship. Sir Arthur\ndied in London, November 22, 1900.\n\n\n\"O CHURCH ARISE AND SING\"\n\nDesigned originally for children's voices, the hymn of five stanzas\nbeginning with this line was written by Hezekiah Butterworth, author of\nthe _Story of the Hymns_ (1875), _Story of the Tunes_ (1890), and many\npopular books of historic interest for the young, the most widely read\nof which is _Zigzag Journeys in Many Lands_. He also composed and\npublished many poems and hymns. He was born in Warren, R.I., Dec. 22,\n1839, and for twenty-five years was connected with the _Youth's\nCompanion_ as regular contributor and member of its editorial staff. He\ndied in Warren, R.I., Sept. 5, 1905.\n\nThe hymn \"O Church, arise\" was sung in Mason's tune of \"Dort\" until\nProf. Case wrote a melody for it, when it took the name of the\n\"Convention Hymn.\"\n\nProfessor Charles Clinton Case, music composer and teacher, was born in\nLinesville, Pa., June, 1843. Was a pupil of George F. Root and pursued\nmusical study in Chicago, Ill., Ashland, O., and South Bend, Ind. He was\nassociated with Root, McGranahan, and others in making secular and\nchurch music books, and later with D.L. Moody in evangelical work.\n\nAs author and compiler he has published numerous works, among them\n_Church Anthems_, the _Harvest Song_ and _Case's Chorus Collection_.\n\n O Church! arise and sing\n The triumphs of your King,\n Whose reign is love;\n Sing your enlarged desires,\n That conquering faith inspires,\n Renew your signal fires,\n And forward move!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Beneath the glowing arch\n The ransomed armies march,\n We follow on;\n Lead on, O cross of Light,\n From conquering height to height,\n And add new victories bright\n To triumphs won!\n\n\n\"THE BANNER OF IMMANUEL!\"\n\nThis hymn, set to music and copyrighted in Buffalo as a floating waif of\nverse by an unknown author, and used in Sunday-school work, first\nappeared in Dr. F.N. Peloubet's _Select Songs_ (Biglow and Main, 1884)\nwith a tune by Rev. George Phipps.\n\nThe hymn was written by Rev. Theron Brown, a Baptist minister, who was\npastor (1859-1870) of churches in South Framingham and Canton, Mass. He\nwas born in Willimantic, Ct., April 29, 1832.\n\nRetired from pastoral work, owing to vocal disability, he has held\ncontributory and editorial relations with the _Youth's Companion_ for\nmore than forty years, for the last twenty years a member of the office\nstaff.\n\nBetween 1880 and 1890 he contributed hymns more or less regularly to the\nquartet and antiphonal chorus service at the Ruggles St. Church, Boston,\nthe \"Banner of Immanuel\" being one of the number. _The Blount Family_,\n_Nameless Women of the Bible_, _Life Songs_ (a volume of poems), and\nseveral books for boys, are among his published works.\n\n The banner of Immanuel! beneath its glorious folds\n For life or death to serve and fight we pledge our loyal souls.\n No other flag such honor boasts, or bears so proud a name,\n And far its red-cross signal flies as flies the lightning's flame.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Salvation by the blood of Christ! the shouts of triumph ring;\n No other watchword leads the host that serves so grand a King.\n Then rally, soldiers of the Cross! Keep every fold unfurled,\n And by Redemption's holy sign we'll conquer all the world.\n\nThe Rev. George Phipps, composer of the tune, \"Immanuel's Banner,\" was\nborn in Franklin, Mass., Dec. 11, 1838, was graduated at Amherst\nCollege, 1862, and at Andover Theological Seminary, 1865. Settled as\npastor of the Congregational Church in Wellesley, Mass., ten years, and\nat Newton Highlands fifteen years.\n\nHe has written many Sunday-school melodies, notably the music to \"My\nSaviour Keeps Me Company.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nHYMNS OF SUFFERING AND TRUST.\n\n\nOne inspiring chapter in the compensations of life is the record of\nimmortal verses that were sorrow-born. It tells us in the most affecting\nway how affliction refines the spirit and \"the agonizing throes of\nthought bring forth glory.\" Often a broken life has produced a single\nhymn. It took the long living under trial to shape the supreme\nexperience.\n\n --The anguish of the singer\n Made the sweetness of the song.\n\nIndeed, if there had been no sorrow there would have been no song.\n\n[Illustration: George James Webb]\n\n\n\"MY LORD, HOW FULL OF SWEET CONTENT.\"\n\nJeanne M.B. de la Mothe--known always as Madame Guyon--the lady who\nwrote these words in exile, probably sang more \"songs in the night\" than\nany hymn-writer outside of the Dark Ages. She was born at Montargis,\nFrance, in 1648, and died in her seventieth year, 1771, in the ancient\ncity of Blois, on the Loire.\n\nA convent-educated girl of high family, a wife at the age of fifteen,\nand a widow at twenty-eight, her early piety, ridiculed in the dazzling\nbut corrupt society of Louis XIV's time, blossomed through a long life\nin religious ministries and flowers of sacred poetry.\n\nShe became a mystic, and her book _Spiritual Torrents_ indicates the\nimpetuous ardors of her soul. It was the way Divine Love came to her.\nShe was the incarnation of the spiritualized Book of Canticles. An\ninduction to these intense subjective visions and raptures had been the\nremark of a pious old Franciscan father, \"Seek God in your heart, and\nyou will find Him.\"\n\nShe began to teach as well as enjoy the new light so different from the\nglitter of the traditional worship. But her \"aggressive holiness\" was\nobnoxious to the established Church. \"Quietism\" was the brand set upon\nher written works and the offense that was punished in her person.\nBossuet, the king of preachers, was her great adversary. The saintly\nFenelon was her friend, but he could not shield her. She was shut up\nlike a lunatic in prison after prison, till, after four years of dungeon\nlife in the Bastile, expecting every hour to be executed for heresy, she\nwas banished to a distant province to end her days.\n\nQuestion as we may the usefulness of her pietistic books, the visions of\nher excessively exalted moods, and the passionate, almost erotic\nphraseology of her _Contemplations_, Madame Guyon has held the world's\nadmiration for her martyr spirit, and even her love-flights of devotion\nin poetry and prose do not conceal the angel that walked in the flame.\n\nToday, when religious persecution is unknown, we can but dimly\nunderstand the perfect triumph of her superior soul under suffering and\nthe transports of her utter absorption in God that could make the stones\nof her dungeon \"look like jewels.\" When we emulate a faith like\nhers--with all the weight of absolute certainty in it--we can sing her\nhymn:\n\n My Lord, how full of sweet content\n I pass my years of banishment.\n Where'er I dwell, I dwell with Thee,\n In heaven or earth, or on the sea.\n\n To me remains nor place nor time:\n My country is in every clime;\n I can be calm and free from care\n On any shore, since God is there.\n\nAnd could a dearer _vade mecum_ enrich a Christian's outfit than these\nlines treasured in memory?\n\n While place we seek or place we shun,\n The soul finds happiness in none;\n But, with a God to guide our way,\n 'Tis equal joy to go or stay.\n\nCowper, and also Dr. Thomas Upham, translated (from the French) the\nreligious poems of Madame Guyon. This hymn is Cowper's translation.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA gentle and sympathetic melody entitled \"Alsace\" well represents the\ntemper of the words--and in name links the nationalities of writer and\ncomposer. It is a choral arranged from a sonata of the great Ludwig von\nBeethoven, born in Bonn, Germany, 1770, and died in Vienna, Mar. 1827.\nLike the author of the hymn he felt the hand of affliction, becoming\ntotally deaf soon after his fortieth year. But, in spite of the\nprivation, he kept on writing sublime and exquisite strains that only\nhis soul could hear. His fame rests upon his oratorio, \"The Mount of\nOlives,\" the opera of \"Fidelio\" and his nine wonderful \"Symphonies.\"\n\n\n\"NO CHANGE IN TIME SHALL EVER SHOCK.\"\n\nAltered to common metre from the awkward long metre of Tate and Brady,\nthe three or four stanzas found in earlier hymnals are part of their\nversion (probably Tate's) of the 31st Psalm--and it is worth calling to\nmind here that there is no hymn treasury so rich in tuneful faith and\nreliance upon God in trouble as the Book of Psalms. This feeling of the\nHebrew poet was never better expressed (we might say, translated) in\nEnglish than by the writer of this single verse--\n\n No change of time shall ever shock\n My trust, O Lord, in Thee,\n For Thou hast always been my Rock,\n A sure defense to me.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe sweet, tranquil choral long ago wedded to this hymn is lost from the\nchurch collections, and its very name forgotten. In fact the hymn itself\nis now seldom seen. If it ever comes back, old \"Dundee\" (Guillaume Franc\n1500-1570) will sing for it, or some new composer may rise up to put the\nspirit of the psalm into inspired notes.\n\n\n\"WHY DO WE MOURN DEPARTED FRIENDS?\"\n\nThis hymn of holy comfort, by Dr. Watts, was long associated with a\nremarkable tune in C minor, \"a queer medley of melody\" as Lowell Mason\ncalled it, still familiar to many old people as \"China.\" It was composed\nby Timothy Swan when he was about twenty-six years of age (1784) and\npublished in 1801 in the _New England Harmony_. It may have sounded\nconsolatory to mature mourners, singers and hearers in the days when\nreligious emotion habitually took a sad key, but its wild and thrilling\nchords made children weep. The tune is long out of use--though, strange\nto say, one of the most recent hymnals prints the hymn with a _new\nminor_ tune.\n\n Why do we mourn departed friends,\n Or shake at death's alarms?\n 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends\n To call them to His arms.\n\n Are we not tending upward too\n As fast as time can move?\n Nor should we wish the hours more slow\n To keep us from our Love.\n\n The graves of all His saints He blessed\n And softened every bed:\n Where should the dying members rest\n But with their dying Head?\n\nTimothy Swan was born in Worcester, Mass., July 23, 1758, and died in\nSuffield, Ct., July 23, 1842. He was a self-taught musician, his only\n\"course of study\" lasting three weeks,--in a country singing school at\nGroton. When sixteen years old he went to Northfield, Mass., and learned\nthe hatter's trade, and while at work began to practice making\npsalm-tunes. \"Montague,\" in two parts, was his first achievement. From\nthat time for thirty years, mostly spent in Suffield, Ct., he wrote and\ntaught music while supporting himself by his trade. Many of his tunes\nwere published by himself, and had a wide currency a century ago.\n\nSwan was a genius in his way, and it was a true comment on his work that\n\"his tunes were remarkable for their originality as well as\nsingularity--unlike any other melodies.\" \"China,\" his masterpiece, will\nbe long kept track of as a curio, and preserved in replicates of old\npsalmody to illustrate self-culture in the art of song. But the major\nmode will replace the minor when tender voices on burial days sing--\n\n Why do we mourn departed friends?\n\nAnother hymn of Watts,--\n\n God is the refuge of His saints\n When storms of sharp distress invade,\n\n--sung to Lowell Mason's liquid tune of \"Ward,\" and the priceless\nstanza,--\n\n Jesus can make a dying bed\n Feel soft as downy pillows are,\n\ndoubly prove the claim of the Southampton bard to a foremost place with\nthe song-preachers of Christian trust.\n\nThe psalm (Amsterdam version), \"God is the refuge,\" etc., is said to\nhave been sung by John Howland in the shallop of the Mayflower when an\nattempt was made to effect a landing in spite of tempestuous weather. A\ntradition of this had doubtless reached Mrs. Hemans when she wrote--\n\n Amid the storm they sang, etc.\n\n\n\"FATHER, WHATE'ER OF EARTHLY BLISS.\"\n\nThis hymn had originally ten stanzas, of which the three usually sung\nare the three last. The above line is the first of the eighth stanza,\naltered from--\n\n And O, whate'er of earthly bliss.\n\nProbably for more than a century the familiar surname \"Steele\" attached\nto this and many other hymns in the hymn-books conveyed to the general\npublic no hint of a mind and hand more feminine than Cowper's or\nMontgomery's. Even intelligent people, who had chanced upon sundry\ncopies of _The Spectator_, somehow fell into the habit of putting\n\"Steele\" and \"Addison\" in the same category of hymn names, and Sir\nRichard Steele got a credit he never sought. But since stories of the\nhymns began to be published--and made the subject of evening talks in\nchurch conference rooms--many have learned what \"Steele\" in the\nhymn-book means. It introduces us now to a very retiring English lady,\nMiss Anna Steele, a Baptist minister's daughter. She was born in 1706,\nat Broughton, Hampshire, in her father's parsonage, and in her father's\nparsonage she spent her life, dying there Nov. 1778.\n\nShe was many years a severe sufferer from bodily illness, and a lasting\ngrief of mind and heart was the loss of her intended husband, who was\ndrowned the day before their appointed wedding. It is said that this\nhymn was written under the recent sorrow of that loss.\n\nIn 1760 and 1780 volumes of her works in verse and prose were published\nwith her name, \"Theodosia,\" and reprinted in 1863 as \"_Hymns, Psalms,\nand Poems_, by Anna Steele.\" The hymn \"Father, whate'er,\" etc., is\nestimated as her best, though some rank it only next to her--\n\n Dear Refuge of my weary soul.\n\nOther more or less well-known hymns of this devout and loving writer\nare,--\n\n Lord, how mysterious are Thy ways,\n\n O Thou whose tender mercy hears,\n\n Thou lovely Source of true delight,\n\n Alas, what hourly dangers rise,\n\n So fades the lovely blooming flower.\n\n--to a stanza of which latter the world owes the tune of \"Federal St.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe true musical mate of the sweet hymn-prayer came to it probably about\nthe time of its hundredth birthday; but it came to stay. Lowell Mason's\n\"Naomi\" blends with it like a symphony of nature.\n\n Father, whate'er of earthly bliss\n Thy sovereign will denies,\n Accepted at Thy throne of grace\n Let this petition rise.\n\n Give me a calm and thankful heart\n From every murmer free.\n The blessings of Thy grace impart,\n And make me live to Thee.\n\n\n\"GUIDE ME, O THOU GREAT JEHOVAH.\"\n\nThis great hymn has a double claim on the name of Williams. We do not\nhave it exactly in its original form as written by Rev. William\nWilliams, \"The Watts of Wales,\" familiarly known as \"Williams of\nPantycelyn.\" His fellow countryman and contemporary, Rev. Peter\nWilliams, or \"Williams of Carmarthen,\" who translated it from Welsh into\nEnglish (1771) made alterations and substitutions in the hymn with the\nresult that only the first stanza belongs indisputably to Williams of\nPantycelyn, the others being Peter's own or the joint production of the\ntwo. As the former, however, is said to have approved and revised the\nEnglish translation, we may suppose the hymn retained the name of its\noriginal author by mutual consent.\n\n Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah,\n Pilgrim through this barren land.\n I am weak, but Thou art mighty,\n Hold me by Thy powerful hand;\n Bread of heaven,\n Feed me till I want no more.\n\n Open Thou the crystal Fountain\n Whence the healing streams do flow,\n Let the fiery cloudy pillar\n Lead me all my journey through.\n Strong Deliverer,\n Be Thou still my Strength and Shield!\n\n When I tread the verge of Jordan\n Bid my anxious fears subside;\n Death of death, and hell's destruction,\n Land me safe on Canaan's side.\n Songs of praises\n I will ever give to Thee.\n\n Musing on my habitation,\n Musing on my heavenly home,\n Fills my heart with holy longing;\n Come, Lord Jesus, quickly come.\n Vanity is all I see,\n Lord, I long to be with Thee.\n\nThe second and third stanzas have not escaped the touch of critical\neditors. The line,--\n\n Whence the healing streams do flow\n\n--becomes,--\n\n Whence the healing waters flow,\n\n--with which alteration there is no fault to find except that it is\nneedless, and obliterates the ancient mark. But the third stanza,\nbesides losing its second line for--\n\n Bid the swelling stream divide,\n\n--is weakened by a more needless substitution. Its original third line--\n\n Death of death, and hell's destruction,\n\n--is exchanged for the commonplace--\n\n Bear me through the swelling current.\n\nThat is modern taste; but when modern taste meddles with a stalwart old\nhymn it is sometimes more nice than wise.\n\nIt is probable that the famous hymn was sung in America before it\nobtained a European reputation. Its history is as follows: Lady\nHuntingdon having read one of Williams' books with much spiritual\nsatisfaction, persuaded him to prepare a collection of hymns, to be\ncalled the _Gloria in Excelsis_, for special use in Mr. Whitefield's\nOrphans' House in America. In this collection appeared the original\nstanzas of \"Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah.\" In 1774, two years after\nits publication in the _Gloria in Excelsis_, it was republished in\nEngland in Mr. Whitefield's collections of hymns.\n\nThe Rev. Peter Williams was born in the parish of Llansadurnen,\nCarmarthenshire, Wales, Jan. 7, 1722, and was educated in Carmarthen\nCollege. He was ordained in the Established Church and appointed to a\ncuracy, but in 1748 joined the Calvinistic Methodists. He was an\nIndependent of the Independents however, and preached where ever he\nchose. Finally he built a chapel for himself on his paternal estate,\nwhere he ministered during the rest of his life. Died Aug. 8, 1796.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nIf \"Sardius,\" the splendid old choral (triple time) everywhere\nidentified with the hymn, be not its original music, its age at least\nentitles it to its high partnership. _The Sacred Lyre_ (1858) ascribes\nit to Ludovic Nicholson, of Paisley, Scotland, violinist and amateur\ncomposer, born 1770; died 1852; but this is not beyond dispute. Of\nseveral names one more confidently referred to as its author is F.H.\nBarthelemon (1741-1808).\n\n\n\"PEACE, TROUBLED SOUL\"\n\nIs the brave faith-song of a Christian under deep but blameless\nhumiliation--Sir Walter Shirley[16].\n\n[Footnote 16: See page 127]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nApparently the favorite in several (not recent) hymnals for the subdued\nbut confident spirit of this hymn of Sir Walter Shirley is Mazzinghi's\n\"Palestine,\" appearing with various tone-signatures in different books.\nThe treble and alto lead in a sweet duet with slur-flights, like an\nobligato to the bass and tenor. The melody needs rich and cultured\nvoices, and is unsuited for congregational singing. So, perhaps, is the\nhymn itself.\n\n Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan\n Hath taught these rocks the notes of woe;\n Cease thy complaint--suppress thy groan,\n And let thy tears forget to flow;\n Behold the precious balm is found,\n To lull thy pain, to heal thy wound.\n\n Come, freely come, by sin oppressed,\n Unburden here thy weighty load;\n Here find thy refuge and thy rest,\n And trust the mercy of thy God.\n Thy God's thy Saviour--glorious word!\n For ever love and praise the Lord.\n\nAs now sung the word \"scenes\" is substituted for \"rocks\" in the second\nline, eliminating the poetry. Rocks give an _echo_; and the vivid\nthought in the author's mind is flattened to an unmeaning generality.\n\nCount Joseph Mazzinghi, son of Tommasso Mazzinghi, a Corsican musician,\nwas born in London, 1765. He was a boy of precocious talent. When only\nten years of age he was appointed organist of the Portuguese Chapel, and\nwhen nineteen years old was made musical director and composer at the\nKing's Theatre. For many years he held the honor of Music Master to the\nPrincess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline, and his compositions were\nalmost numberless. Some of his songs and glees that caught the popular\nfancy are still remembered in England, as \"The Turnpike Gate,\" \"The\nExile,\" and the rustic duet, \"When a Little Farm We Keep.\"\n\nOf sacred music he composed only one mass and six hymn-tunes, of which\nlatter \"Palestine\" is one. Mazzinghi died in 1844, in his eightieth\nyear.\n\n\n\"BEGONE UNBELIEF, MY SAVIOUR IS NEAR.\"\n\nThe Rev. John Newton, author of this hymn, was born in London, July 24,\n1725. The son of a sea-captain, he became a sailor, and for several\nyears led a reckless life. Converted, he took holy orders and was\nsettled as curate of Olney, Buckinghamshire, and afterwards Rector of\nSt. Mary of Woolnoth, London, where he died, Dec. 21, 1807. It was\nwhile living at Olney that he and Cowper wrote and published the _Olney\nHymns_. His defiance to doubt in these lines is the blunt utterance of a\nsailor rather than the song of a poet:\n\n Begone, unbelief, my Saviour is near,\n And for my relief will surely appear.\n By prayer let me wrestle and He will perform;\n With Christ in the vessel I smile at the storm.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nOld \"Hanover,\" by William Croft (1677-1727), carries Newton's hymn\nsuccessfully, but Joseph Haydn's choral of \"Lyons\" is more familiar--and\nbetter music.\n\n\"Hanover\" often accompanies Charles Wesley's lyric,--\n\n Ye servants of God, your Master proclaim.\n\n\n\"HOW FIRM A FOUNDATION.\"\n\nThe question of the author of this hymn is treated at length in Dr.\nLouis F. Benson's _Studies of Familiar Hymns_. The utmost that need to\nbe said here is that two of the most thorough and indefatigable\nhymn-chasers, Dr. John Julian and Rev. H.L. Hastings, working\nindependently of each other, found evidence fixing the authorship with\nstrong probability upon Robert Keene, a precentor in Dr. John Rippon's\nchurch. Dr. Rippon was pastor of a Baptist Church in London from 1773\nto 1836, and in 1787 he published a song-manual called _A Selection of\nHymns from the Best Authors_, etc., in which \"How Firm a Foundation\"\nappears as a new piece, with the signature \"K----.\"\n\nThe popularity of the hymn in America has been remarkable, and promises\nto continue. Indeed, there are few more reviving or more spiritually\nhelpful. It is too familiar to need quotation. But one cannot suppress\nthe last stanza, with its powerful and affecting emphasis on the Divine\npromise--\n\n The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose\n I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;\n That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,\n I'll never, no never, no never forsake.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe grand harmony of \"Portuguese Hymn\" has always been identified with\nthis song of trust.\n\nOne opinion of the date of the music writes it \"about 1780.\" Since the\nhabit of crediting it to John Reading (1677-1764) has been discontinued,\nit has been in several hymnals ascribed to Marco Portogallo (Mark, the\nPortuguese), a musician born in Lisbon, 1763, who became a composer of\noperas in Italy, but was made Chapel-Master to the Portuguese King. In\n1807, when Napoleon invaded the Peninsula and dethroned the royal house\nof Braganza, Old King John VI. fled to Brazil and took Marco with him,\nwhere he lived till 1815, but returned and died in Italy, in 1830. Such\nis the story, and it is all true, only the man's name was Simao,\ninstead of Marco. _Grove's Dictionary_ appends to Simao's biography the\nsingle sentence, \"His brother wrote for the church.\" That the Brazilian\nepisode may have been connected with this brother's history by a\nconfusion of names, is imaginable, but it is not known that the\nbrother's name was Marco.\n\nOn the whole, this account of the authorship of the \"Portuguese\nHymn\"--originally written for the old Christmas church song \"Adeste\nFideles\"--is late and uncertain. Heard (perhaps for the first time) in\nthe Portuguese Chapel, London, it was given the name which still clings\nto it. If proofs of its Portuguese origin exist, they may yet be found.\n\n\"How Firm a Foundation\" was the favorite of Deborah Jackson, President\nAndrew Jackson's beloved wife, and on his death-bed the warrior and\nstatesman called for it. It was the favorite of Gen. Robert E. Lee, and\nwas sung at his funeral. The American love and familiar preference for\nthe remarkable hymn was never more strikingly illustrated than when on\nChristmas Eve, 1898, a whole corps of the United States army Northern\nand Southern, encamped on the Quemados hills, near Havana, took up the\nsacred tune and words--\n\n \"Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed.\"\n\nLieut. Col. Curtis Guild (since Governor Guild of Massachusetts) related\nthe story in the Sunday School Times for Dec. 7, 1901, and Dr. Benson\nquotes it in his book.\n\n[Illustration: John Wesley]\n\n\n\"WHILE THEE I SEEK, PROTECTING POWER.\"\n\nMiss Helen Maria Williams, who wrote this gentle hymn of confidence, in\n1786, was born in the north of England in 1762. When but a girl she won\nreputation by her brilliant literary talents and a mental grasp and\nvigor that led her, like Gail Hamilton, \"to discuss public affairs,\nbesides clothing bright fancies and devout thoughts in graceful verse.\"\nMost of her life was spent in London, and in Paris, where she died, Dec.\n14, 1827.\n\n While Thee I seek, Protecting Power\n Be my vain wishes stilled,\n And may this consecrated hour\n With better hopes be filled:\n\n * * * * *\n\n When gladness wings my favored hour,\n Thy love my thoughts shall fill,\n Resigned where storms of sorrow lower\n My soul shall meet Thy will.\n\n My lifted eye without a tear\n The gathering storm shall see:\n My steadfast heart shall know no fear:\n My heart will rest on Thee.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nOld \"Norwich,\" from _Day's Psalter_, and \"Simpson,\" adapted from Louis\nSpohr, are found with the hymn in several later manuals. In the memories\nof older worshipers \"Brattle-Street,\" with its melodious choral and duet\narranged from Pleyel by Lowell Mason, is inseparable from Miss\nWilliams' words; but modern hymnals have dropped it, probably because\ntoo elaborate for average congregational use.\n\nIgnaz Joseph Pleyel was born June 1, 1757, at Ruppersthal, Lower\nAustria. He was the _twenty-fourth_ child of a village schoolmaster. His\nearly taste and talent for music procured him friends who paid for his\neducation. Haydn became his master, and long afterwards spoke of him as\nhis best and dearest pupil. Pleyel's work--entirely instrumental--was\nmuch admired by Mozart.\n\nDuring a few years spent in Italy, he composed the music of his\nbest-known opera, \"Iphigenia in Aulide,\" and, besides the thirty-four\nbooks of his symphonies and chamber-pieces, the results of his prolific\ngenius make a list too long to enumerate. Most of his life was spent in\nParis, where he founded the (present) house of Pleyel and Wolfe, piano\nmakers and sellers. He died in that city, Nov. 14, 1831.\n\n\n\"COME UNTO ME.\"\n\n Come unto Me, when shadows darkly gather,\n When the sad heart is weary and distressed,\n Seeking for comfort from your heavenly Father,\n Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.\n\nThis sweet hymn, by Mrs. Catherine Esling, is well known to many\nthousands of mourners, as also is its equally sweet tune of \"Henley,\" by\nLowell Mason. Melody and words melt together like harp and flute.\n\n Large are the mansions in thy Father's dwelling,\n Glad are the homes that sorrows never dim,\n Sweet are the harps in holy music swelling.\n Soft are the tones that raise the heavenly hymn.\n\nMrs. Catherine Harbison Waterman Esling was born in Philadelphia, Apr.\n12, 1812. A writer for many years under her maiden name, Waterman, she\nmarried, in 1840, Capt. George Esling, of the Merchant Marine, and lived\nin Rio Janeiro till her widowhood, in 1844.\n\n\nJOHN WESLEY'S HYMN.\n\n How happy is the pilgrim's lot,\n How free from every anxious thought.\n\nThese are the opening lines of \"John Wesley's Hymn,\" so called because\nhis other hymns are mostly translations, and because of all his own it\nis the one commonly quoted and sung.\n\nJohn Wesley, the second son in the famous Epworth family of ministers,\nwas a man who knew how to endure \"hardness as a good soldier of Christ.\"\nHe was born June 27, 1703, and studied at Charterhouse, London, and at\nChrist Church, Oxford, becoming a Fellow of Lincoln College. After\ntaking holy orders he went as a missionary to Georgia, U.S., in 1735,\nand on his return began his remarkable work in England, preaching a more\nspiritual type of religion, and awakening the whole kingdom with his\nrevival fervor and his brother's kindling songs. The following paragraph\nfrom his itinerant life, gathered probably from a page of his own\njournals, gives a glimpse of what the founder of the great Methodist\ndenomination did and suffered while carrying his Evangelical message\nfrom place to place.\n\nOn February 17, 1746, when days were short and weather far from\nfavorable, he set out on horseback from Bristol to Newcastle, a distance\nbetween three and four hundred miles. The journey occupied ten days.\nBrooks were swollen, and in some places the roads were impassable,\nobliging the itinerant to go round through the fields. At Aldrige Heath,\nin Staffordshire, the rain turned to snow, which the northerly wind\ndrove against him, and by which he was soon crusted over from head to\nfoot. At Leeds the mob followed him, and pelted him with whatever came\nto hand. He arrived at Newcastle, February 26, \"free from every anxious\nthought,\" and \"every worldly fear.\"\n\nHow lightly he regarded hardship and molestation appears from his\nverses--\n\n Whatever molests or troubles life,\n When past, as nothing we esteem,\n And pain, like pleasure, is a dream.\n\nAnd that he actually enjoys the heroic freedom of a rough-rider\nmissionary life is hinted in his hymn--\n\n Confined to neither court nor cell,\n His soul disdains on earth to dwell,\n He only sojourns here.\n\nGod evidently built John Wesley fire-proof and water-proof with a view\nto precisely what he was to undertake and accomplish. His frame was\nvigorous, and his spirit unconquerable. Besides all this he had the\ndivine gift of a religious faith that could move mountains and a\nconfidence in his mission that became a second nature. No wonder he\ncould suffer, and _last_. The brave young man at thirty was the brave\nold man at nearly ninety. He died in London, March 2, 1791.\n\n Blest with the scorn of finite good,\n My soul is lightened of its load\n And seeks the things above.\n\n There is my house and portion fair;\n My treasure and my heart are there,\n And my abiding home.\n\n For me my elder brethren stay,\n And angels beckon me away.\n And Jesus bids me come.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nAn air found in the _Revivalist_ (1869), in sextuple time, that has the\nreal camp-meeting swing, preserves the style of music in which the hymn\nwas sung by the circuit-preachers and their congregations--ringing out\nthe autobiographical verses with special unction. The favorite was--\n\n No foot of land do I possess,\n No cottage in this wilderness;\n A poor wayfaring man,\n I lodge awhile in tents below,\n Or gladly wander to and fro\n Till I my Canaan gain.\n\nMore modern voices sing the John Wesley hymn to the tune \"Habakkuk,\" by\nEdward Hodges. It has a lively three-four step, and finer melody than\nthe old.\n\nEdward Hodges was born in Bristol, Eng., July 20, 1796, and died there\nSept. 1876. Organist at Bristol in his youth, he was graduated at\nCambridge and in 1825 received the doctorate of music from that\nUniversity. In 1835 he went to Toronto, Canada, and two years later to\nNew York city, where he was many years Director of Music at Trinity\nChurch. Returned to Bristol in 1863.\n\n\n\"WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS AROUND I VIEW.\"\n\nOne of the restful strains breathed out of illness and affliction to\nrelieve one soul and bless millions. It was written by Sir Robert Grant\n(1785-1838).\n\n When gathering clouds around I view,\n And days are dark, and friends are few,\n On Him I lean who not in vain\n Experienced every human pain.\n\nThe lines are no less admirable for their literary beauty than for their\nfeeling and their faith. Unconsciously, it may be, to the writer, in\nthis and the following stanza are woven an epitome of the Saviour's\nhistory. He--\n\n Experienced every human pain,\n --felt temptation's power,\n --wept o'er Lazarus dead,\n\n--and the crowning assurance of Jesus' human sympathy is expressed in\nthe closing prayer,--\n\n --when I have safely passed\n Thro' every conflict but the last,\n Still, still unchanging watch beside\n My painful bed--for _Thou hast died_.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOf the few suitable six-line long metre part songs, the charming Russian\ntone-poem of \"St. Petersburg\" by Dimitri Bortniansky is borrowed for the\nhymn in some collections, and with excellent effect. It accords well\nwith the mood and tenor of the words, and deserves to stay with it as\nlong as the hymn holds its place.\n\nDimitri Bortniansky, called \"The Russian Palestrina,\" was born in 1752\nat Gloukoff, a village of the Ukraine. He studied music in Moscow, St.\nPetersburg, Vienna, Rome and Naples. Returning to his native land, he\nwas made Director of Empress Catharine's church choir. He reformed and\nsystematized Russian church music, and wrote original scores in the\nintervals of his teaching labors. His works are chiefly motets and\nconcertos, which show his genius for rich harmony. Died 1825.\n\n\n\"JUST AS I AM, WITHOUT ONE PLEA.\"\n\nCharlotte Elliott, of Brighton, Eng., would have been well-known through\nher admired and useful hymns,--\n\n My God, my Father, while I stray,\n\n My God, is any hour so sweet,\n\n With tearful eyes I look around,\n\n--and many others. But in \"Just as I am\" she made herself a voice in the\nsoul of every hesitating penitent. The currency of the hymn has been too\nswift for its authorship and history to keep up with, but it is a\nblessed law of influence that good works out-run biographies. This\nmaster-piece of metrical gospel might be called Miss Elliott's\nspiritual-birth hymn, for a reply of Dr. Caesar Malan of Geneva was its\nprompting cause. The young lady was a stranger to personal religion\nwhen, one day, the good man, while staying at her father's house, in his\ngentle way introduced the subject. She resented it, but afterwards,\nstricken in spirit by his words, came to him with apologies and an\ninquiry that confessed a new concern of mind. \"You speak of coming to\nJesus, but how? I'm not fit to come.\"\n\n\"Come just as you are,\" said Dr. Malan.\n\nThe hymn tells the result.\n\nLike all the other hymns bound up in her _Invalid's Hymn-book_, it was\npoured from out the heart of one who, as the phrase is, \"never knew a\nwell day\"--though she lived to see her eighty-second year.\n\nIllustrative of the way it appeals to the afflicted, a little anecdote\nwas told by the eloquent John B. Gough of his accidental seat-mate in a\ncity church service. A man of strange appearance was led by the kind\nusher or sexton to the pew he occupied. Mr. Gough eyed him with strong\naversion. The man's face was mottled, his limbs and mouth twitched, and\nhe mumbled singular sounds. When the congregation sang he attempted to\nsing, but made fearful work of it. During the organ interlude he leaned\ntoward Mr. Gough and asked how the next verse began. It was--\n\n Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind.\n\n\"That's it,\" sobbed the strange man, \"I'm blind--God help me!\"--and the\ntears ran down his face--\"and I'm wretched--and paralytic,\" and then he\ntried hard to sing the line with the rest.\n\n\"After that,\" said Mr. Gough, \"the poor paralytic's singing was as\nsweet to me as a Beethoven symphony.\"\n\nCharlotte Elliott was born March 18, 1789, and died in Brighton, Sept.\n22, 1871. She stands in the front rank of female hymn-writers.\n\nThe tune of \"Woodworth,\" by William B. Bradbury, has mostly superseded\nMason's \"Elliott,\" and is now the accepted music of this lyric of\nperfect faith and pious surrender.\n\n Just as I am,--Thy love unknown\n Hath broken every barrier down,\n Now to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,\n O Lamb of God, I come, I come.\n\n\n\"MY HOPE IS BUILT ON NOTHING LESS.\"\n\nThe Rev. Edward Mote was born in London, 1797. According to his own\ntestimony his parents were not God-fearing people, and he \"went to a\nschool where no Bible was allowed;\" but at the age of sixteen he\nreceived religious impressions from a sermon of John Hyatt in Tottenham\nCourt Chapel, was converted two years later, studied for the ministry,\nand ultimately became a faithful preacher of the gospel. Settled as\npastor of the Baptist Church in Horsham, Sussex, he remained there\ntwenty-six years--until his death, Nov. 13, 1874. The refrain of his\nhymn came to him one Sabbath when on his way to Holborn to exchange\npulpits:\n\n On Christ the solid rock I stand,\n All other ground is sinking sand.\n\nThere were originally six stanzas, the first beginning:\n\n Nor earth, nor hell, my soul can move,\n I rest upon unchanging love.\n\nThe refrain is a fine one, and really sums up the whole hymn, keeping\nconstantly at the front the corner-stone of the poet's trust.\n\n My hope is built on nothing less\n Than Jesus' blood and righteousness.\n I dare not trust the sweetest frame,\n But only lean on Jesus' name.\n On Christ the solid Rock I stand\n All other ground is sinking sand.\n\n When darkness veils His lovely face\n I trust in His unchanging grace,\n In every high and stormy gale\n My anchor holds within the veil.\n On Christ the solid Rock, etc.\n\nWm. B. Bradbury composed the tune (1863). It is usually named \"The Solid\nRock.\"\n\n\n\"ABIDE WITH ME! FAST FALLS THE EVENTIDE.\"\n\nThe Rev. Henry Francis Lyte, author of this melodious hymn-prayer, was\nborn at Ednam, near Kelso, Scotland, June first, 1793. A scholar,\ngraduated at Trinity College, Dublin; a poet and a musician, the\nhard-working curate was a man of frail physique, with a face of almost\nfeminine beauty, and a spirit as pure and gentle as a little child's.\nThe shadow of consumption was over him all his life. His memory is\nchiefly associated with the district church at Lower Brixham,\nDevonshire, where he became \"perpetual curate\" in 1823. He died at Nice,\nFrance, Nov. 20, 1847.\n\nOn the evening of his last Sunday preaching and communion service he\nhanded to one of his family the manuscript of his hymn, \"Abide with me,\"\nand the music he had composed for it. It was not till eight years later\nthat Henry Ward Beecher introduced it, or a part of it, to American\nCongregationalists, and fourteen years after the author's death it began\nto be sung as we now have it, in this country and England.\n\n Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide,\n The darkness deepens,--Lord with me abide!\n When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,\n Help of the helpless, O abide with me!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;\n Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;\n Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;\n In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nThere is a pathos in the neglect and oblivion of Lyte's own tune set by\nhimself to his words, especially as it was in a sense the work of a\ndying man who had hoped that he might not be \"wholly mute and useless\"\nwhile lying in his grave, and who had prayed--\n\n O Thou whose touch can lend\n Life to the dead. Thy quickening grace supply,\n And grant me swan-like my last breath to spend\n In song that may not die!\n\nHis prayer was answered in God's own way. Another's melody hastened his\nhymn on its useful career, and revealed to the world its immortal\nvalue.\n\nBy the time it had won its slow recognition in England, it was probably\ntuneless, and the compilers of _Hymns Ancient and Modern_ (1861)\ndiscovering the fact just as they were finishing their work, asked Dr.\nWilliam Henry Monk, their music editor, to supply the want. \"In ten\nminutes,\" it is said, \"Dr. Monk composed the sweet, pleading chant that\nis wedded permanently to Lyte's swan song.\"\n\nWilliam Henry Monk, Doctor of Music, was born in London, 1823. His\nmusical education was early and thorough, and at the age of twenty-six\nhe was organist and choir director in King's College, London. Elected\n(1876) professor of the National Training School, he interested himself\nactively in popular musical education, delivering lectures at various\ninstitutions, and establishing choral services.\n\nHis hymn-tunes are found in many song-manuals of the English Church and\nin Scotland, and several have come to America.\n\nDr. Monk died in 1889.\n\n\n\"COME, YE DISCONSOLATE.\"\n\nBy Thomas Moore--about 1814. The poem in its original form differed\nsomewhat from the hymn we sing. Thomas Hastings--whose religious\nexperience, perhaps, made him better qualified than Thomas Moore for\nspiritual expression--changed the second line,--\n\n Come, at God's altar fervently kneel,\n\n--to--\n\n Come to the mercy seat,\n\n--and in the second stanza replaced--\n\n Hope when all others die,\n\n--with--\n\n Hope of the penitent;\n\n--and for practically the whole of the last stanza--\n\n Go ask the infidel what boon he brings us,\n What charm for aching hearts he can reveal.\n Sweet as that heavenly promise hope sings us,\n \"Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal,\"\n\n--Hastings substituted--\n\n Here see the Bread of life, see waters flowing\n Forth from the throne of God, pure from above!\n Come to the feast Love, come ever knowing\n Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.\n\nDr. Hastings was not much of a poet, but he could make a _singable_\nhymn, and he knew the rhythm and accent needed in a hymn-tune. The\ndetermination was to make an evangelical hymn of a poem \"too good to\nlose,\" and in that view perhaps the editorial liberties taken with it\nwere excusable. It was to Moore, however, that the real hymn-thought and\nkey-note first came, and the title-line and the sweet refrain are his\nown--for which the Christian world has thanked him, lo these many\nyears.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThose who question why Dr. Hastings' interest in Moore's poem did not\ncause him to make a tune for it, must conclude that it came to him with\nits permanent melody ready made, and that the tune satisfied him.\n\nThe \"German Air\" to which Moore tells us he wrote the words, probably\ntook his fancy, if it did not induce his mood. Whether Samuel Webbe's\ntune now wedded to the hymn is an arrangement of the old air or wholly\nhis own is immaterial. One can scarcely conceive a happier yoking of\ncounterparts. Try singing \"Come ye Disconsolate\" to \"Rescue the\nPerishing,\" for example, and we shall feel the impertinence of divorcing\na hymn that has found its musical affinity.\n\n\n\"JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN.\"\n\nThis is another well-known and characteristic hymn of Henry Francis\nLyte--originally six stanzas. We have been told that, besides his bodily\naffliction, the grief of an unhappy division or difference in his church\nweighed upon his spirit, and that it is alluded to in these lines--\n\n Man may trouble and distress me,\n 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast,\n Life with trials hard may press me,\n Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.\n\n O, 'tis not in grief to harm me\n While Thy love is left to me,\n O, 'tis not in joy to charm me\n Were that joy unmixed with Thee.\n\nTunes, \"Autumn,\" by F.H. Barthelemon, or \"Ellesdie,\" (formerly called\n\"Disciple\") from Mozart--familiar in either.\n\n\n\"FROM EVERY STORMY WIND THAT BLOWS.\"\n\nThis is the much-sung and deeply-cherished hymn of Christian peace that\na pious Manxman, Hugh Stowell, was inspired to write nearly a hundred\nyears ago. Ever since it has carried consolation to souls in both\nordinary and extraordinary trials.\n\nIt was sung by the eight American martyrs, Revs. Albert Johnson, John E.\nFreeman, David E. Campbell and their wives, and Mr. and Mrs. McMullen,\nwhen by order of the bloody Nana Sahib the captive missionaries were\ntaken prisoners and put to death at Cawnpore in 1857. Two little\nchildren, Fannie and Willie Campbell, suffered with their parents.\n\n From every stormy wind that blows,\n From every swelling tide of woes\n There is a calm, a sure retreat;\n 'Tis found beneath the Mercy Seat.\n\n Ah, whither could we flee for aid\n When tempted, desolate, dismayed,\n Or how the hosts of hell defeat\n Had suffering saints no Mercy Seat?\n\n There, there on eagle wings we soar,\n And sin and sense molest no more,\n And heaven comes down our souls to greet\n While glory crowns the Mercy Seat.\n\n[Illustration: John B. Dykes]\n\nRev. Hugh Stowell was born at Douglas on the Isle of Man, Dec. 3, 1799.\nHe was educated at Oxford and ordained to the ministry 1823, receiving\ntwelve years later the appointment of Canon to Chester Cathedral.\n\nHe was a popular and effective preacher and a graceful writer.\nForty-seven hymns are credited to him, the above being the best known.\nTo presume it is \"his best,\" leaves a good margin of merit for the\nremainder.\n\n\"From every stormy wind that blows\" has practically but one tune. It has\nbeen sung to Hastings \"Retreat\" ever since the music was made.\n\n\n\"CHILD OF SIN AND SORROW.\"\n\n Child of sin and sorrow, filled with dismay,\n Wait not for tomorrow, yield thee today.\n Heaven bids thee come, while yet there's room,\n Child of sin and sorrow, hear and obey.\n\nWords and music by Thomas Hastings.\n\n\n\"LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT.\"\n\nJohn Henry Newman, born in London, Feb. 21, 1801--known in religious\nhistory as Cardinal Newman--wrote this hymn when he was a young\nclergyman of the Church of England. \"Born within the sound of Bow\nbells,\" says Dr. Benson, \"he was an imaginative boy, and so\nsuperstitious, that he used constantly to cross himself when going into\nthe dark.\" Intelligent students of the fine hymn will note this habit of\nits author's mind--and surmise its influence on his religious musings.\n\nThe agitations during the High Church movement, and the persuasions of\nHurrell Froude, a Romanist friend, while he was a tutor at Oxford,\ngradually weakened his Protestant faith, and in his unrest he travelled\nto the Mediterranean coast, crossed to Sicily, where he fell violently\nill, and after his recovery waited three weeks in Palermo for a return\nboat. On his trip to Marseilles he wrote the hymn--with no thought that\nit would ever be called a hymn.\n\nWhen complimented on the beautiful production after it became famous he\nmodestly said, \"It was not the hymn but the _tune_ that has gained the\npopularity. The tune is Dykes' and Dr. Dykes is a great master.\"\n\nDr. Newman was created a Cardinal of the Church of Rome in the Catholic\nCathedral of London, 1879. Died Aug. 11, 1890.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Lux Benigna,\" by Dr. Dykes, was composed in Aug. 1865, and was the tune\nchosen for this hymn by a committee preparing the Appendix to _Hymns\nAncient and Modern_. Dr. Dykes' statement that the tune came into his\nhead while walking through the Strand in London \"presents a striking\ncontrast with the solitary origin of the hymn itself\" (Benson).\n\n Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom,\n Lead Thou me on.\n The night is dark and I am far from home;\n Lead Thou me on.\n Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see\n The distant scene,--one step enough for me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n So long Thy power hath bless'd me, sure it still\n Will lead me on,\n O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till\n The night is gone,\n And with the morn those angel faces smile\n Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.\n\n\n\"I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS SAY.\"\n\nFew if any Christian writers of his generation have possessed tuneful\ngifts in greater opulence or produced more vital and lasting treasures\nof spiritual verse than Horatius Bonar of Scotland. He inherited some of\nhis poetic faculty from his grandfather, a clergyman who wrote several\nhymns, and it is told of Horatius that hymns used to \"come to\" him while\nriding on railroad trains. He was educated in the Edinburgh University\nand studied theology with Dr. Chalmers, and his life was greatly\ninfluenced by Dr. Guthrie, whom he followed in the establishment of the\nFree Church of Scotland.\n\nBorn in 1808 in Edinburgh, he was about forty years old when he came\nback from a successful pastorate at Kelso to the city of his home and\nAlma Mater, and became virtually Chalmers' successor as minister of the\nChalmers Memorial Church.\n\nThe peculiar richness of Bonar's sacred songs very early created for\nthem a warm welcome in the religious world, and any devout lyric or poem\nwith his name attached to it is sure to be read.\n\nDr. Bonar died in Edinburgh, July 31, 1889. Writing of the hymn, \"I\nheard the voice,\" etc., Dr. David Breed calls it \"one of the most\ningenious hymns in the language,\" referring to the fact that the\ninvitation and response exactly halve each stanza between them--song\nfollowed by countersong. \"Ingenious\" seems hardly the right word for a\ndivision so obviously natural and almost automatic. It is a simple art\nbeauty that a poet of culture makes by instinct. Bowring's \"Watchman,\ntell us of the night,\" is not the only other instance of similar\ncountersong structure, and the regularity in Thomas Scott's little hymn,\n\"Hasten, sinner, to be wise,\" is only a simpler case of the way a poem\nplans itself by the compulsion of its subject.\n\n I heard the voice of Jesus say,\n Come unto me and rest,\n Lay down, thou weary one, lay down\n Thy head upon My breast:\n\n I came to Jesus as I was,\n Weary and worn and sad,\n I found in Him a resting-place,\n And He has made me glad.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe old melody of \"Evan,\" long a favorite; and since known everywhere\nthrough the currency given to it in the _Gospel Hymns_, has been in many\ncollections connected with the words. It is good congregational\npsalmody, and not unsuited to the sentiment, taken line by line, but it\ndivides the stanzas into quatrains, which breaks the happy continuity.\n\"Evan\" was made by Dr. Mason in 1850 from a song written four years\nearlier by Rev. William Henry Havergal, Canon of Worcester Cathedral,\nEng. He was the father of Frances Ridley Havergal.\n\nThe more ancient \"Athens,\" by Felice Giardini (1716-1796), author of the\n\"Italian Hymn,\" has clung, and still clings lovingly to Bonar's hymn in\nmany communities. Its simplicity, and the involuntary accent of its\nsextuple time, exactly reproducing the easy iambic of the verses,\ninevitably made it popular, and thousands of older singers today will\nhave no other music with \"I heard the voice of Jesus say.\"\n\n\"Vox Jesu,\" from the andante in one of the quartets of Louis Spohr\n(1784-1859), is a psalm-tune of good harmony, but too little feeling.\n\nAn excellent tune for all the shades of expression in the hymn, is the\narrangement by Hubert P. Main from Franz Abt--in A flat, triple time.\nGentle music through the first fifteen bars, in alternate duet and\nquartet, utters the Divine Voice with the true accent of the lines, and\nthe second portion completes the harmony in glad, full chorus--the\nanswer of the human heart.\n\n\"Vox Dilecti,\" by Dr. Dykes, goes farther and writes the Voice in B flat\n_minor_--which seems a needless substitution of divine sadness for\ndivine sweetness. It is a tune of striking chords, but its shift of key\nto G natural (major) after the first four lines marks it rather for\ntrained choir performance than for assembly song.\n\nIt is possible to make too much of a dramatic perfection or a supposed\nindication of structural design in a hymn. Textual equations, such as\ndistinguish Dr. Bonar's beautiful stanzas, are not necessarily\ntechnical. To emphasize them as ingenious by an ingenious tune seems,\nsomehow, a reflection on the spontaneity of the hymn.\n\nLouis Spohr was Director of the Court Theatre Orchestra in Cassel,\nPrussia, in the first half of the last century. He was an eminent\ncomposer of both vocal and instrumental music, and one of the greatest\nviolinists of Europe.\n\nHubert Platt Main was born in Ridgefield, Ct., Aug. 17, 1839. He read\nmusic at sight when only ten years old, and at sixteen commenced writing\nhymn-tunes. Was assistant compiler with both Bradbury and Woodbury in\ntheir various publications, and in 1868 became connected with the firm\nof Biglow and Main, and has been their book-maker until the present\ntime. As music editor in the partnership he has superintended the\npublication of more than five hundred music-books, services, etc.\n\n\n\"I LOVE TO STEAL AWHILE AWAY.\"\n\nThe burdened wife and mother who wrote this hymn would, at the time,\nhave rated her history with \"the short and simple annals of the poor.\"\nBut the poor who are \"remembered for what they have done,\" may have a\nlarger place in history than many rich who did nothing.\n\nPhebe Hinsdale Brown, was born in Canaan, N.Y., in 1783. Her father,\nGeorge Hinsdale, who died in her early childhood, must have been a man\nof good abilities and religious feeling, being the reputed composer of\nthe psalm-tune, \"Hinsdale,\" found in some long-ago collections.\n\nLeft an orphan at two years of age, Phebe \"fell into the hands of a\nrelative who kept the county jail,\" and her childhood knew little but\nthe bitter fare and ceaseless drudgery of domestic slavery. She grew up\nwith a crushed spirit, and was a timid, shrinking woman as long as she\nlived. She married Timothy H. Brown, a house-painter of Ellington, Ct.,\nand passed her days there and in Monson, Mass., where she lived some\ntwenty-five years.\n\nIn her humble home in the former town her children were born, and it was\nwhile caring for her own little family of four, and a sick sister, that\nthe incident occurred (August 1818), which called forth her tender hymn.\nShe was a devout Christian, and in pleasant weather, whenever she could\nfind the leisure, she would \"steal away\" at sunset from her burdens a\nlittle while, to rest and commune with God. Her favorite place was a\nwealthy neighbor's large and beautiful flower garden. A servant reported\nher visits there to the mistress of the house, who called the \"intruder\"\nto account.\n\n\"If you want anything, why don't you come in?\" was the rude question,\nfollowed by a plain hint that no stealthy person was welcome.\n\nWounded by the ill-natured rebuff, the sensitive woman sat down the next\nevening with her baby in her lap, and half-blinded by her tears, wrote\n\"An Apology for my Twilight Rambles,\" in the verses that have made her\ncelebrated.\n\nShe sent the manuscript (nine stanzas) to her captious neighbor--with\nwhat result has never been told.\n\nCrude and simple as the little rhyme was, it contained a germ of lyric\nbeauty and life. The Rev. Dr. Charles Hyde of Ellington, who was a\nneighbor of Mrs. Brown, procured a copy. He was assisting Dr. Nettleton\nto compile the _Village Hymns_, and the humble bit of devotional verse\nwas at once judged worthy of a place in the new book. Dr. Hyde and his\ndaughter Emeline giving it some kind touches of rhythmic amendment,\n\n I love to steal awhile away\n From little ones and care,\n\n--became,--\n\n I love to steal awhile away\n From _every cumb'ring_ care.\n\nIn the last line of this stanza--\n\n In gratitude and prayer\n\n--was changed to--\n\n In humble, grateful prayer,\n\n--and the few other defects in syllabic smoothness or literary grace\nwere affectionately repaired, but the slight furbishing it received did\nnot alter the individuality of Mrs. Brown's work. It remained\n_hers_--and took its place among the immortals of its kind, another\nillustration of how little poetry it takes to make a good hymn. Only\nfive stanzas were printed, the others being voted redundant by both\nauthor and editor. The second and third, as now sung, are--\n\n I love in solitude to shed\n The penitential tear,\n And all His promises to plead\n Where none but God can hear.\n\n I love to think on mercies past\n And future good implore,\n And all my cares and sorrows cast\n On Him whom I adore.\n\nPhebe Brown died at Henry, Ill., in 1861; but she had made the church\nand the world her debtor not only for her little lyric of pious trust,\nbut by rearing a son, the Rev. Samuel Brown, D.D., who became the\npioneer American missionary to Japan--to which Christian calling two of\nher grandchildren also consecrated themselves.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nMrs. Brown's son Samuel, who, besides being a good minister, inherited\nhis grandfather's musical gift, composed the tune of \"Monson,\" (named in\nhis mother's honor, after her late home), and it may have been the first\nmusic set to her hymn. It was the fate of his offering, however, to lose\nits filial place, and be succeeded by different melodies, though his own\nstill survives in a few collections, sometimes with Collyer's \"O Jesus\nin this solemn hour.\" It is good music for a hymn of _praise_ rather\nthan for meditative verse. Many years the hymn has been sung to\n\"Woodstock,\" an appropriate and still familiar tune by Deodatus Dutton.\n\nDutton's \"Woodstock\" and Bradbury's \"Brown,\" which often replaces it,\nare worthy rivals of each other, and both continue in favor as fit\nchoral interpretations of the much-loved hymn.\n\nDeodatus Dutton was born Dec. 22, 1808, and educated at Brown University\nand Washington College (now Trinity) Hartford Ct. While there he was a\nstudent of music and played the organ at Dr. Matthews' church. He\nstudied theology in New York city, and had recently entered the ministry\nwhen he suddenly died, Dec. 16, 1832, a moment before rising to preach a\nsermon. During his brief life he had written several hymn-tunes, and\npublished a book of psalmody. Mrs. Sigourney wrote a poem on his death.\n\n\n\"THERE'S A WIDENESS IN GOD'S MERCY.\"\n\nFrederick William Faber, author of this favorite hymn-poem, had a\npeculiar genius for putting golden thoughts into common words, and\nmaking them sing. Probably no other sample of his work shows better than\nthis his art of combining literary cleverness with the most reverent\npiety. Cant was a quality Faber never could put into his religious\nverse.\n\nHe was born in Yorkshire, Eng., June 28, 1814, and received his\neducation at Oxford. Settled as Rector of Elton, in Huntingdonshire, in\n1843, he came into sympathy with the \"Oxford Movement,\" and followed\nNewman into the Romish Church. He continued his ministry as founder and\npriest for the London branch of the Catholic congregation of St. Philip\nNeri for fourteen years, dying Sept. 26, 1863, at the age of forty-nine.\n\nHis godly hymns betray no credal shibboleth or doctrinal bias, but are\nsongs for the whole earthly church of God.\n\n There's a wideness in God's mercy\n Like the wideness of the sea;\n There's a kindness in His justice\n Which is more than liberty.\n There is welcome for the sinner\n And more graces for the good;\n There is mercy with the Saviour,\n There is healing in His blood.\n\n There's no place where earthly sorrows\n Are more felt than up in heaven;\n There's no place where earthly failings\n Have such kindly judgment given.\n There is plentiful redemption\n In the blood that has been shed,\n There is joy for all the members\n In the sorrows of the Head.\n\n For the love of God is broader\n Than the measure of man's mind,\n And the heart of the Eternal\n Is most wonderfully kind.\n If our love were but more simple\n We should take Him at His word,\n And our lives would be all sunshine\n In the sweetness of the Lord.\n\nNo tone of comfort has breathed itself more surely and tenderly into\ngrieved hearts than these tuneful and singularly expressive sentences of\nFrederick Faber.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music of S.J. Vail sung to Faber's hymn is one of that composer's\nbest hymn-tunes, and its melody and natural movement impress the\nmeaning as well as the simple beauty of the words.\n\nSilas Jones Vail, an American music-writer, was born Oct., 1818, and\ndied May 20, 1883. Another charming tune is \"Wellesley,\" by Lizzie S.\nTourjee, daughter of the late Dr. Eben Tourjee.\n\n\n\"HE LEADETH ME! OH, BLESSED THOUGHT.\"\n\nProfessor Gilmore, of Rochester University, N.Y., when a young Baptist\nminister (1861) supplying a pulpit in Philadelphia \"jotted down this\nhymn in Deacon Watson's parlor\" (as he says) and passed it to his wife,\none evening after he had made \"a conference-room talk\" on the 23d Psalm.\n\nMrs. Gilmore, without his knowledge, sent it to the _Watchman and\nReflector_ (now the _Watchman_).\n\nYears after its publication in that paper, when a candidate for the\npastorate of the Second Baptist Church in Rochester, he was turning the\nleaves of the vestry hymnal in use there, and saw his hymn in it. Since\nthat first publication in the _Devotional Hymn and Tune Book_ (1865) it\nhas been copied in the hymnals of various denominations, and steadily\nholds its place in public favor. The refrain added by the tunemaker\nemphasizes the sentiment of the lines, and undoubtedly enhances the\neffect of the hymn.\n\n\"He leadeth me\" has the true hymn quality, combining all the simplicity\nof spontaneous thought and feeling with perfect accent and liquid\nrhythm.\n\n He leadeth me! Oh, blessed thought,\n Oh, words with heavenly comfort fraught;\n Whate'er I do, where'er I be,\n Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine,\n Nor ever murmur nor repine--\n Content, whatever lot I see,\n Since 'tis my God that leadeth me.\n\nProfessor Joseph Henry Gilmore was born in Boston, April 29, 1834. He\nwas graduated at Phillips Academy, Andover, at Brown University, and at\nthe Newton Theological Institution, where he was afterwards Hebrew\ninstructor.\n\nAfter four years of pastoral service he was elected (1867) professor of\nthe English Language and Literature in Rochester University. He has\npublished _Familiar Chats on Books and Reading_, also several college\ntext-books on rhetoric, logic and oratory.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe little hymn of four stanzas was peculiarly fortunate in meeting the\neye of Mr. William B. Bradbury, (1863) and winning his musical sympathy\nand alliance. Few composers have so exactly caught the tone and spirit\nof their text as Bradbury did when he vocalized the gliding measures of\n\"He leadeth me.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nCHRISTIAN BALLADS.\n\n\nEchoes of Hebrew thought, if not Hebrew psalmody, may have made their\nway into the more serious pagan literature. At least in the more\nenlightened pagans there has ever revealed itself more or less the\ninstinct of the human soul that \"feels after\" God. St. Paul in his\naddress to the Athenians made a tactful as well as scholarly point to\npreface a missionary sermon when he cited a line from a poem of Aratus\n(B.C. 272) familiar, doubtless, to the majority of his hearers.\n\nDr. Lyman Abbot has thus translated the passage in which the line\noccurs:\n\n Let us begin from God. Let every mortal raise\n The grateful voice to tune God's endless praise,\n God fills the heaven, the earth, the sea, the air;\n We feel His spirit moving everywhere,\n And we His offspring are.[17] He, ever good,\n Daily provides for man his daily food.\n To Him, the First, the Last, all homage yield,--\n Our Father wonderful, our help, our shield.\n\n[Footnote 17: [Greek: Tou gar kai genos esmen.]]\n\n\n\"RISE, CROWNED WITH LIGHT.\"\n\nAlexander Pope, a Roman Catholic poet, born in London 1688, died at\nTwickenham 1744, was not a hymnist, but passages in his most serious and\nexalted flights deserve a tuneful accompaniment. His translations of\nHomer made him famous, but his ethical poems, especially his \"Essay on\nMan,\" are inexhaustible mines of quotation, many of the lines and\ncouplets being common as proverbs. His \"Messiah,\" written about 1711, is\na religious anthem in which the prophecies of Holy Writ kindle all the\nsplendor of his verse.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe closing strain, indicated by the above line, has been divided into\nstanzas of four lines suitable to a church hymn-tune. The melody\nselected by the compilers of the _Plymouth Hymnal_, and of the\n_Unitarian Hymn and Tune Book_ is \"Savannah,\" an American sounding name\nfor what is really one of Pleyel's chorals. The music is worthy of\nPope's triumphal song.\n\n The seas shall waste, the skies to smoke decay,\n Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away,\n But fixed His Word; His saving power remains:\n Thy realm shall last; thy own Messiah reigns.\n\n\n\"OH, WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT?\"\n\nThis is a sombre poem, but its virile strength and its literary merit\nhave given it currency, and commended it to the taste of many people,\nboth weak and strong, who have the pensive temperament. Abraham Lincoln\nloved it and committed it to memory in his boyhood. Philip Phillips set\nit to music, and sang it--or a part of it--one day during the Civil war\nat the anniversary of the Christian Sanitary Commission, when President\nLincoln, who was present, called for its repetition.[18] It was written\nby William Knox, born 1789, son of a Scottish farmer.\n\n[Footnote 18: This account so nearly resembles the story of Mrs. Gates'\n\"Your Mission,\" sung to a similar audience, on a similar occasion, by\nthe same man, that a possible confusion by the narrators of the incident\nhas been suggested. But that Mr. Phillips sang twice before the\nPresident during the war does not appear to be contradicted. To what air\nhe sang the above verses is uncertain.]\n\nThe poem has fourteen stanzas, the following being the first and two\nlast--\n\n Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?\n Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud\n A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,\n He passeth from life to rest in the grave.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,\n Are mingled together like sunshine and rain;\n And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,\n Still follow each other like surge upon surge.\n\n 'Tis the wink of an eye; 'tis the draft of a breath\n From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,\n From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud,\n Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?\n\nPhilip Phillips was born in Jamestown, Chautauqua Co., N.Y., Aug. 11,\n1834, and died in Delaware, O., June 25, 1895. He wrote no hymns and was\nnot an educated musician, but the airs of popular hymn-music came to him\nand were harmonized for him by others, most frequently by his friends,\nS.J. Vail and Hubert P. Main. He compiled and published thirty-one\ncollections for Sunday-schools and gospel meetings, besides the\n_Methodist Hymn and Tune Book_, issued in 1866.\n\nHe was a pioneer gospel singer, and his tuneful journeys through\nAmerica, England and Australia gave him the name of the \"Singing\nPilgrim,\" the title of his song collection (1867).\n\n\n\"WHEN ISRAEL OF THE LORD BELOVED.\"\n\nThe \"Song of Rebecca the Jewess,\" in \"Ivanhoe,\" was written by Sir\nWalter Scott, author of the Waverly Novels, \"Marmion,\" etc., born in\nEdinburgh, 1771, and died at Abbotsford, 1832. The lines purport to be\nthe Hebrew hymn with which Rebecca closed her daily devotions while in\nprison under sentence of death.\n\n When Israel of the Lord beloved\n Out of the land of bondage came\n Her fathers' God before her moved,\n An awful Guide in smoke and flame.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Then rose the choral hymn of praise,\n And trump and timbrel answered keen,\n And Zion's daughters poured their lays.\n With priest's and warrior's voice between.\n\n * * * * *\n\n By day along th' astonished lands\n The cloudy Pillar glided slow,\n By night Arabia's crimson'd sands\n Returned the fiery Column's glow.\n\n * * * * *\n\n And O, when gathers o'er our path\n In shade and storm the frequent night\n Be Thou, long suffering, slow to wrath,\n A burning and a shining Light!\n\nThe \"Hymn of Rebecca\" has been set to music though never in common use\nas a hymn. Old \"Truro\", by Dr. Charles Burney (1726-1814) is a grand\nScotch psalm harmony for the words, though one of the Unitarian hymnals\nborrows Zeuner's sonorous choral, the \"Missionary Chant.\" Both sound the\nlyric of the Jewess in good Christian music.\n\n\n\"WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT BY THE WATERS.\"\n\nThe 137th Psalm has been for centuries a favorite with poets and\npoetical translators, and its pathos appealed to Lord Byron when engaged\nin writing his _Hebrew Melodies_.\n\nByron was born in London, 1788, and died at Missolonghi, Western Greece,\n1824.\n\n We sat down and wept by the waters\n Of Babel, and thought of the day\n When the foe, in the hue of his slaughters,\n Made Salem's high places his prey,\n And ye, Oh her desolate daughters,\n Were scattered all weeping away.\n\n--Written April, 1814. It was the fashion then for musical societies to\ncall on the popular poets for contributions, and tunes were composed for\nthem, though these have practically passed into oblivion.\n\nByron's ringing ballad (from II Kings 19:35)--\n\n Th' Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold\n And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold,\n\n--has been so much a favorite for recitation and declamation that the\nloss of its tune is never thought of.\n\nAnother poetic rendering of the \"Captivity Psalm\" is worthy of notice\namong the lay hymns not unworthy to supplement clerical sermons. It was\nwritten by the Hon. Joel Barlow in 1799, and published in a pioneer\npsalm-book at Northampton, Mass. It is neither a translation nor\nproperly a hymn but a poem built upon the words of the Jewish lament,\nand really reproducing something of its plaintive beauty. Two stanzas of\nit are as follows:\n\n Along the banks where Babel's current flows\n Our captive bands in deep despondence strayed,\n While Zion's fall in deep remembrance rose,\n Her friends, her children mingled with the dead.\n\n The tuneless harps that once with joy we strung\n When praise employed, or mirth inspired the lay,\n In mournful silence on the willows hung,\n And growing grief prolonged the tedious day.\n\nLike Pope, this American poet loved onomatope and imitative verse, and\nthe last line is a word-picture of home-sick weariness. This \"psalm\"\nwas the best piece of work in Mr. Barlow's series of attempted\nimprovements upon Isaac Watts--which on the whole were not very\nsuccessful. The sweet cantabile of Mason's \"Melton\" gave \"Along the\nbanks\" quite an extended lease of life, though it has now ceased to be\nsung.\n\nJoel Barlow was a versatile gentleman, serving his country and\ngeneration in almost every useful capacity, from chaplain in the\ncontinental army to foreign ambassador. He was born in Redding, Ct.,\n1755, and died near Cracow, Poland, Dec. 1812.\n\n\n\"AS DOWN IN THE SUNLESS.\"\n\nThomas Moore, the poet of glees and love-madrigals, had sober thoughts\nin the intervals of his gaiety, and employed his genius in writing\nreligious and even devout poems, which have been spiritually helpful in\nmany phases of Christian experience. Among them was this and the four\nfollowing hymns, with thirty-four others, each of which he carefully\nlabelled with the name of a music composer, though the particular tune\nis left indefinite. \"The still prayer of devotion\" here answers, in\nrhyme and reality, the simile of the sea-flower in the unseen deep, and\nthe mariner's compass represents the constancy of a believer.\n\n As, still to the star of its worship, though clouded,\n The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea,\n So, dark as I roam in this wintry world shrouded,\n The hope of my spirit turns trembling to Thee.\n\nIt is sung in _Plymouth Hymnal_ to Barnby's \"St. Botolph.\"\n\n\n\"THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT SHRINE\"\n\nIs, in part, still preserved in hymn collections, and sung to the noble\ntune of \"Louvan,\" Virgil Taylor's piece. The last stanza is especially\nreminiscent of the music.\n\n There's nothing bright above, below,\n From flowers that bloom to stars that glow;\n But in its light my soul can see\n Some feature of Thy deity.\n\n\n\"O THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR\"\n\nIs associated in the _Baptist Praise Book_ with Woodbury's \"Siloam.\"\n\n\n\"THE BIRD LET LOOSE IN EASTERN SKIES\"\n\nHas been sung in Mason's \"Coventry,\" and the _Plymouth Hymnal_ assigns\nit to \"Spohr\"--a namesake tune of Louis Spohr, while the _Unitarian Hymn\nand Tune Book_ unites to it a beautiful triple-time melody from Mozart,\nand bearing his name.\n\n\n\"THOU ART, O GOD, THE LIFE AND LIGHT.\"\n\nThis is the best of the Irish poet's sacred songs--always excepting,\n\"Come, Ye Disconsolate.\" It is said to have been originally set to a\nsecular melody composed by the wife of Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan.\nIt is joined to the tune of \"Brighton\" in the Unitarian books, and\nWilliam Monk's \"Matthias\" voices the words for the _Plymouth Hymnal_.\nThe verses have the true lyrical glow, and make a real song of praise as\nwell a composition of more than ordinary literary beauty.\n\n Thou art, O God, the life and light\n Of all this wondrous world we see;\n Its glow by day, its smile by night\n Are but reflections caught from Thee.\n Where'er we turn Thy glories shine,\n And all things fair and bright are Thine.\n\n * * * * *\n\n When night with wings of starry gloom\n O'ershadows all the earth, and skies\n Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume\n Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes,\n That sacred gloom, those fires divine,\n So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine.\n\n When youthful spring around us breathes,\n Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh,\n And every flower the summer wreathes\n Is born beneath that kindling eye.\n Where'er we turn Thy glories shine,\n And all things fair and bright are Thine.\n\n\n\"MOURNFULLY, TENDERLY, BEAR ON THE DEAD.\"\n\nA tender funeral ballad by Henry S. Washburn, composed in 1846 and\nentitled \"The Burial of Mrs. Judson.\" It is rare now in sheet-music form\nbut the _American Vocalist_, to be found in the stores of most great\nmusic publishers and dealers, preserves the full poem and score.\n\nIts occasion was the death at sea, off St. Helena, of the Baptist\nmissionary, Mrs. Sarah Hall Boardman Judson, and the solemn committal of\nher remains to the dust on that historic island, Sept. 1, 1845. She was\non her way to America from Burmah at the time of her death, and the ship\nproceeded on its homeward voyage immediately after her burial. The\ntouching circumstances of the gifted lady's death, and the strange\nromance of her entombment where Napoleon's grave was made twenty-four\nyears before, inspired Mr. Washburn, who was a prominent layman of the\nBaptist denomination, and interested in all its ecclesiastical and\nmissionary activities, and he wrote this poetic memorial of the event:\n\n Mournfully, tenderly, bear on the dead;\n Where the warrior has lain, let the Christian be laid.\n No place more befitting, O rock of the sea;\n Never such treasure was hidden in thee.\n\n Mournfully, tenderly, solemn and slow;\n Tears are bedewing the path as ye go;\n Kindred and strangers are mourners today;\n Gently, so gently, O bear her away.\n\n Mournfully, tenderly, gaze on that brow;\n Beautiful is it in quietude now.\n One look, and then settle the loved to her rest\n The ocean beneath her, the turf on her breast.\n\nMrs. Sarah Judson was the second wife of the Rev. Adoniram Judson, D.D.,\nthe celebrated pioneer American Baptist missionary, and the mother by\nher first marriage, of the late Rev. George Dana Boardman, D.D., LL.D.,\nof Philadelphia.\n\nThe Hon. Henry S. Washburn was born in Providence, R.I., 1813, and\neducated at Brown University. During most of his long life he resided in\nMassachusetts, and occupied there many positions of honor and trust,\nserving in the State Legislature both as Representative and Senator. He\nwas the author of many poems and lyrics of high merit, some of\nwhich--notably \"The Vacant Chair\"--became popular in sheet-music and in\nbooks of religious and educational use. He died in 1903.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"The Burial of Mrs. Judson\" became favorite parlor music when Lyman\nHeath composed the melody for it--of the same name. Its notes and\nmovement were evidently inspired by the poem, for it reproduces the\nfeeling of every line. The threnody was widely known and sung in the\nmiddle years of the last century, by people, too, who had scarcely heard\nof Mrs. Judson, and received in the music and words their first hint of\nher history. The poem prompted the tune, but the tune was the garland of\nthe poem.\n\nLyman Heath of Bow, N.H., was born there Aug. 24, 1804. He studied\nmusic, and became a vocalist and vocal composer. Died July 30, 1870.\n\n\n\"TELL ME NOT IN MOURNFUL NUMBERS.\"\n\nLongfellow's \"Psalm of Life\" was written when he was a young man, and\nfor some years it carried the title he gave it, \"What the Young Man's\nHeart Said to the Psalmist\"--a caption altogether too long to bear\ncurrency.\n\nThe history of the beloved poet who wrote this optimistic ballad of hope\nand courage is too well known to need recounting here. He was born in\nPortland, Me., in 1807, graduated at Bowdoin College, and was for more\nthan forty years professor of Belles Lettres in Harvard University. Died\nin Cambridge, March 4, 1882. Of his longer poems the most read and\nadmired are his beautiful romance of \"Evangeline,\" and his epic of\n\"Hiawatha,\" but it is hardly too much to say that for the last sixty\nyears, his \"Psalm of Life\" has been the common property of all American,\nif not English school-children, and a part of their education. When he\nwas in London, Queen Victoria sent for him to come and see her at the\npalace. He went, and just as he was seating himself in the waiting coach\nafter the interview, a man in working clothes appeared, hat in hand, at\nthe coach window.\n\n\"Please sir, yer honor,\" said he, \"an' are you Mr. Longfellow?\"\n\n\"I am Mr. Longfellow,\" said the poet.\n\n\"An' did you write the Psalm of Life?\" he asked.\n\n\"I wrote the Psalm of Life,\" replied the poet.\n\n\"An', yer honor, would you be willing to take a workingman by the hand?\"\n\nMr. Longfellow gave the honest Englishman a hearty handshake, \"And\"\n(said he in telling the story) \"I never in my life received a compliment\nthat gave me more satisfaction.\"\n\nThe incident has a delightful democratic flavor--and it is perfectly\ncharacteristic of the amiable author of the most popular poem in the\nEnglish language. The \"Psalm of Life\" is a wonderful example of the\npower of commonplaces put into tuneful and elegant verse.\n\nThe thought of setting the poem to music came to the compiler of one of\nthe Unitarian church singing books. Some will question, however, whether\nthe selection was the happiest that could have been made. The tune is\n\"Rathbun,\" Ithamar Conkey's melody that always recalls Sir John\nBowring's great hymn of praise.\n\n\n\"BUILD THEE MORE NOBLE MANSIONS.\"\n\nThis poem by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, known among his works as \"The\nChambered Nautilus,\" was considered by himself as his worthiest\nachievement in verse, and his wish that it might live is likely to be\nfulfilled. It is stately, and in character and effect a rhythmic sermon\nfrom a text in \"natural theology.\" The biography of one of the little\nmolluscan sea-navigators that continually enlarges its shell to adapt it\nto its growth inspired the thoughtful lines. The third, fourth and\nfifth stanzas are as follows:\n\n Year after year beheld the silent toil\n That spread the lustrous coil;\n Still, as the spiral grew,\n He left the last year's dwelling for the new,\n Stole with soft step the shining archway through,\n Built up its idle door,\n Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.\n\n Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,\n Child of the wand'ring sea,\n Cast from her lap forlorn!\n From thy dead lips a clearer note is born\n Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!\n While on my ear it rings\n Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings,\n\n \"Build thee more noble mansions, O my soul.\n As the swift seasons roll:\n Leave thy low-vaulted past!\n Let each new temple, nobler than the last,\n Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,\n Till thou at length art free,\n Leaving thy outgrown shell by life's unresting sea.\"\n\nDr. Frederic Hedge included the poem in his hymn-book but without any\nsinging-supplement to the words.\n\n\nWHITTIER'S SERVICE SONG.\n\n It may not be our lot to wield\n The sickle in the harvest field.\n\nIf this stanza and the four following do not reveal all the strength of\nJohn G. Whittier's spirit, they convey its serious sweetness. The\nverses were loved and prized by both President Garfield and President\nMcKinley. On the Sunday before the latter went from his Canton, O., home\nto his inauguration in Washington the poem was sung as a hymn at his\nrequest in the services at the Methodist church where he had been a\nconstant worshipper.\n\nThe second stanza is the one most generally recognized and oftenest\nquoted:\n\n Yet where our duty's task is wrought\n In unison with God's great thought,\n The near and future blend in one,\n And whatsoe'er is willed, is done.\n\nJohn Greenleaf Whittier, the poet of the oppressed, was born in\nHaverhill, Mass., 1807, worked on a farm and on a shoe-bench, and\nstudied at the local academy, until, becoming of age, he went to\nHartford, Conn., and began a brief experience in editorial life. Soon\nafter his return to Massachusetts he was elected to the Legislature, and\nafter his duties ended there he left the state for Philadelphia to edit\nthe _Pennsylvania Freeman_. A few years later he returned again, and\nestablished his home in Amesbury, the town with which his life and works\nare always associated.\n\nHe died in 1892 at Hampton Falls, N.H., where he had gone for his\nhealth.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Abends,\" the smooth triple-time choral joined to Whittier's poem by the\nmusic editor of the new _Methodist Hymnal_, speaks its meaning so well\nthat it is scarcely worth while to look for another. Sir Herbert Stanley\nOakeley, the composer, was born at Ealing, Eng., July 22, 1830, and\neducated at Rugby and Oxford. He studied music in Germany, and became a\nsuperior organist, winning great applause by his recitals at Edinburgh\nUniversity, where he was elected Musical Professor.\n\nArchbishop Tait gave him the doctorate of music at Canterbury in 1871,\nand he was knighted by Queen Victoria in 1876.\n\nBesides vocal duets, Scotch melodies and student songs, he composed many\nanthems and tunes for the church--notably \"Edina\" (\"Saviour, blessed\nSaviour\") and \"Abends,\" originally written to Keble's \"Sun of my Soul.\"\n\n\n\"THE BIRD WITH THE BROKEN PINION.\"\n\nThis lay of a lost gift, with its striking lesson, might have been\ncopied from the wounded bird's own song, it is so natural and so\nclear-toned. The opportune thought and pen of Mr. Hezekiah Butterworth\ngave being to the little ballad the day he heard the late Dr. George\nLorimer preach from a text in the story of Samson's fall (Judges 16:21)\n\"The Philistines took him, and put out his eyes, and brought him down to\nGaza ... and he did grind in the prison-house.\" A sentence in the\ncourse of the doctor's sermon, \"The bird with a broken pinion never\nsoars as high again,\" was caught up by the listening author, and became\nthe refrain of his impressive song. Rev. Frank M. Lamb, the tuneful\nevangelist, found it in print, and wrote a tune to it, and in his voice\nand the voices of other singers the little monitor has since told its\nstory in revival meetings, and mission and gospel services throughout\nthe land.\n\n I walked through the woodland meadows\n Where sweet the thrushes sing,\n And found on a bed of mosses\n A bird with a broken wing.\n I healed its wound, and each morning\n It sang its old sweet strain,\n But the bird with a broken pinion\n Never soared as high again.\n\n I found a young life broken\n By sin's seductive art;\n And, touched with a Christ-like pity,\n I took him to my heart.\n He lived--with a noble purpose,\n And struggled not in vain;\n But the life that sin had stricken\n Never soared as high again.\n\n But the bird with a broken pinion\n Kept another from the snare,\n And the life that sin had stricken\n Saved another from despair.\n Each loss has its compensation,\n There is healing for every pain\n But the bird with a broken pinion\n Never soars as high again.\n\nIn the tune an extra stanza is added--as if something conventional were\nneeded to make the poem a hymn. But the professional tone of the\nappended stanza, virtually all in its two lines--\n\n Then come to the dear Redeemer,\n He will cleanse you from every stain,\n\n--is forced into its connection. The poem told the truth, and stopped\nthere; and should be left to fasten its own impression. There never was\na more solemn warning uttered than in this little apologue. It promises\n\"compensation\" and \"healing,\" but not perfect rehabilitation. Sin will\nleave its scars. Even He who \"became sin for us\" bore them in His\nresurrection body.\n\nRev. Frank M. Lamb, composer and singer of the hymn-tune, was born in\nPoland, Me., 1860, and educated in the schools of Poland and Auburn. He\nwas licensed to preach in 1888, and ordained the same year, and has\nsince held pastorates in Maine, New York, and Massachusetts.\n\nBesides his tune, very pleasing and appropriate music has been written\nto the little ballad of the broken wing by Geo. C. Stebbins.\n\n[Illustration: Ellen M.H. Gates]\n\n\nUNDER THE PALMS.\n\nIn the cantata, \"Under the Palms\" (\"Captive Judah in Babylon\")--the\njoint production of George F. Root[19] and Hezekiah Butterworth, several\nof the latter's songs detached themselves, with their music, from the\nmain work, and lingered in choral or solo service in places where the\nsacred operetta was presented, both in America and England. One of these\nis an effective solo in deep contralto, with a suggestion of recitative\nand chant--\n\n By the dark Euphrates' stream,\n By the Tigris, sad and lone\n I wandered, a captive maid;\n And the cruel Assyrian said,\n \"Awake your harp's sweet tone!\"\n\n I had heard of my fathers' glory from the lips of holy men,\n And I thought of the land of my fathers; I thought of my fathers'\n land then.\n\nAnother is--\n\n O church of Christ! our blest abode,\n Celestial grace is thine.\n Thou art the dwelling-place of God,\n The gate of joy divine.\n\n Whene'er I come to thee in joy,\n Whene'er I come in tears,\n Still at the Gate called Beautiful\n My risen Lord appears.\n\n--with the chorus--\n\n Where'er for me the sun may set,\n Wherever I may dwell,\n My heart shall nevermore forget\n Thy courts, Immanuel!\n\n[Footnote 19: See page 316.]\n\n\n\"IF YOU CANNOT ON THE OCEAN.\"\n\nThis popular Christian ballad, entitled \"Your Mission,\" was written one\nstormy day in the winter of 1861-2 by Miss Ellen M. Huntington (Mrs.\nIsaac Gates), and made her reputation as one of the few didactic poets\nwhose exquisite art wins a hearing for them everywhere. In a moment of\nrevery, while looking through the window at the falling snow, the words\ncame to her:\n\n If you cannot on the ocean\n Sail among the swiftest fleet.\n\nShe turned away and wrote the lines on her slate, following with verse\nafter verse till she finished the whole poem. \"It wrote itself,\" she\nsays in her own account of it.\n\nReading afterwards what she had written, she was surprised at her work.\nThe poem had a meaning and a \"mission.\" So strong was the impression\nthat the devout girl fell on her knees and consecrated it to a divine\npurpose. Free copies of it went to the Cooperstown, N.Y., local paper,\nand to the New York _Examiner_, and appeared in both. From that time the\nhistory and career of \"Your Mission\" presents a marked illustration of\n\"catenal influence,\" or transmitted suggestion.\n\nIn the later days of the Civil War Philip Phillips, who had a\nwonderfully sweet tenor voice, was invited to sing at a great meeting of\nthe United States Christian Commission in the Senate Chamber at\nWashington, February, 1865, President Lincoln and Secretary Seward\n(then president of the commission) were there, and the hall was crowded\nwith leading statesmen, army generals, and friends of the Union. The\nsong selected by Mr. Phillips was Mrs. Gates' \"Your Mission\":\n\n If you cannot on the ocean\n Sail among the swiftest fleet,\n Rocking on the highest billows,\n Laughing at the storms you meet,\n You can stand among the sailors\n Anchored yet within the bay;\n You can lend a hand to help them\n As they launch their boats away.\n\nThe hushed audience listened spell-bound as the sweet singer went on,\ntheir interest growing to feverish eagerness until the climax was\nreached in the fifth stanza:\n\n If you cannot in the conflict\n Prove yourself a soldier true,\n If where fire and smoke are thickest\n There's no work for you to do,\n When the battlefield is silent\n You can go with careful tread;\n You can bear away the wounded,\n You can cover up the dead.\n\nIn the storm of enthusiasm that followed, President Lincoln handed a\nhastily scribbled line on a bit of paper to Chairman Seward,\n\n\"Near the close let us have 'Your Mission' repeated.\"\n\nMr. Phillips' great success on this occasion brought him so many calls\nfor his services that he gave up everything and devoted himself to his\ntuneful art. \"Your Mission\" so gladly welcomed at Washington made him\nthe first gospel songster, chanting round the world the divine message\nof the hymns. It was the singing by Philip Phillips that first impressed\nIra D. Sankey with the amazing power of evangelical solo song, and\nhelped him years later to resign his lucrative business as a revenue\nofficer and consecrate his own rare vocal gift to the Christian ministry\nof sacred music. Heaven alone can show the birth-records of souls won to\nGod all along the journeys of the \"Singing Pilgrims,\" and the rich\nsuccession of Mr. Sankey's melodies, that can be traced back by a chain\nof causes to the poem that \"wrote itself\" and became a hymn. And the\nchain may not yet be complete. In the words of that providential poem--\n\n Though they may forget the singer\n They will not forget the song.\n\nMrs. Ellen M.H. Gates, whose reputation as an author was made by this\nbeautiful and always timely poem, was born in Torrington, Ct., and is\nthe youngest sister of the late Collis P. Huntington. Her\nhymns--included in this volume and in other publications--are much\nadmired and loved, both for their sweetness and elevated religious\nfeeling, and for their poetic quality. Among her published books of\nverse are \"Night,\" \"At Noontide,\" and \"Treasures of Kurium.\" Her address\nis New York City.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nSidney Martin Grannis, author of the tune, was born Sept. 23, 1827, in\nGeneseo, Livingston county, N.Y. Lived in Leroy, of the same state, from\n1831 to 1884, when he removed to Los Angeles, Cal., where several of his\nadmirers presented him a cottage and grounds, which at last accounts he\nstill occupies. Mr. Grannis won his first reputation as a popular\nmusician by his song \"Do They Miss Me at Home,\" and his \"Only Waiting,\"\n\"Cling to the Union,\" and \"People Will Talk You Know,\" had an equally\nwide currency. As a solo singer his voice was remarkable, covering a\nrange of two octaves, and while travelling with members of the \"Amphion\nTroupe,\" to which he belonged, he sang at more than five thousand\nconcerts. His tune to \"Your Mission\" was composed in New Haven, Ct., in\n1864.\n\n\n\"TOO LATE! TOO LATE! YE CANNOT ENTER NOW.\"\n\n\"Too Late\" is a thrilling fragment or side-song of Alfred Tennyson's,\nrepresenting the vain plea of the five Foolish Virgins. Its tune bears\nthe name of a London lady, \"Miss Lindsay\" (afterwards Mrs. J.\nWorthington Bliss). The arrangement of air, duo and quartet is very\nimpressive[20].\n\n[Footnote 20: _Methodist Hymnal_, No. 743.]\n\n \"Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill:\n Late, late, so late! but we can enter still.\"\n \"Too late! too late! ye cannot enter now!\"\n\n \"No light! so late! and dark and chill the night--\n O let us in that we may find the light!\"\n \"Too late! too late! ye cannot enter now!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n \"Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet?\n O let us in that we may kiss his feet!\"\n \"No, No--! too late! ye cannot enter now!\"\n\nThe words are found in \"Queen Guinevere,\" a canto of the \"Idyls of the\nKing.\"\n\n\n\"OH, GALILEE, SWEET GALILEE.\"\n\nThis is the chorus of a charming poem of three stanzas that shaped\nitself in the mind of Mr. Robert Morris while sitting over the ruins on\nthe traditional site of Capernaum by the Lake of Genneseret.\n\n Each cooing dove, each sighing bough,\n That makes the eve so blest to me,\n Has something far diviner now,\n It bears me back to Galilee.\n\n CHORUS\n Oh, Galilee, sweet Galilee,\n Where Jesus loved so much to be;\n Oh, Galilee, blue Galilee,\n Come sing thy song again to me.\n\nRobert Morris, LL.D., born Aug. 31, 1818, was a scholar, and an expert\nin certain scientific subjects, and wrote works on numismatics and the\n\"Poetry of Free Masonry.\" Commissioned to Palestine in 1868 on historic\nand archaeological service for the United Order, he explored the scenes\nof ancient Jewish and Christian life and event in the Holy Land, and\nbeing a religious man, followed the Saviour's earthly footsteps with a\nreverent zeal that left its inspiration with him while he lived. He died\nin the year 1888, but his Christian ballad secured him a lasting place\nin every devout memory.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe author wrote out his hymn in 1874 and sent it to his friend, the\nmusician, Mr. Horatio R. Palmer,[21] and the latter learned it by heart,\nand carried it with him in his musings \"till it floated out in the\nmelody you know,\" (to use his own words.)\n\n[Footnote 21: See page 311.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nOLD REVIVAL HYMNS.\n\n\nThe sober churches of the \"Old Thirteen\" states and of their successors\nfar into the nineteenth century, sustained evening prayer-meetings more\nor less commonly, but necessity made them in most cases \"cottage\nmeetings\" appointed on Sunday and here and there in the scattered homes\nof country parishes. Their intent was the same as that of \"revival\nmeetings,\" since so called, though the method--and the music--were\ndifferent. The results in winning sinners, so far as they owed anything\nto the hymns and hymn-tunes, were apt to be a new generation of\nChristian recruits as sombre as the singing. \"Lebanon\" set forth the\nappalling shortness of human life; \"Windham\" gave its depressing story\nof the great majority of mankind on the \"broad road,\" and other minor\ntunes proclaimed God's sovereignty and eternal decrees; or if a psalm\nhad His love in it, it was likely to be sung in a similar melancholy\nkey. Even in his gladness the good minister, Thomas Baldwin, of the\nSecond Baptist Church, at Boston, North End, returning from Newport,\nN.H., where he had happily harmonized a discordant church, could not\nescape the strait-lace of a C minor for his thankful hymn--\n\n From whence doth this union arise,\n That hatred is conquered by love.\n\n\"The Puritans took their pleasures seriously,\" and this did not cease to\nbe true till at least two hundred years after the Pilgrims landed or\nBoston was founded.\n\nTime, that covered the ghastly faces on the old grave-stones with moss,\ngradually stole away the unction of minor-tune singing.\n\nThe songs of the great revival of 1740 swept the country with positive\nrather than negative music. Even Jonathan Edwards admitted the need of\nbetter psalm-books and better psalmody.\n\nEdwards, during his life, spent some time among the Indians as a\nmissionary teacher; but probably neither he nor David Brainerd ever saw\na Christian hymn composed by an Indian. The following, from the early\nyears of the last century, is apparently the first, certainly the only\nsurviving, effort of a converted but half-educated red man to utter his\nthoughts in pious metre. Whoever trimmed the original words and measure\ninto printable shape evidently took care to preserve the broken English\nof the simple convert. It is an interesting relic of the Christian\nthought and sentiment of a pagan just learning to prattle prayer and\npraise:\n\n In de dark wood, no Indian nigh,\n Den me look heaben, send up cry,\n Upon my knees so low.\n Dat God on high, in shinee place,\n See me in night, with teary face,\n De priest, he tell me so.\n\n God send Him angel take me care;\n Him come Heself and hear um prayer,\n If Indian heart do pray.\n God see me now, He know me here.\n He say, poor Indian, neber fear,\n Me wid you night and day.\n\n So me lub God wid inside heart;\n He fight for me, He take my part,\n He save my life before.\n God lub poor Indian in de wood;\n So me lub God, and dat be good;\n Me pray Him two times more.\n\n When me be old, me head be gray,\n Den He no lebe me, so He say:\n Me wid you till you die.\n Den take me up to shinee place,\n See white man, red man, black man's face,\n All happy 'like on high.\n\n Few days, den God will come to me,\n He knock off chains, He set me free,\n Den take me up on high.\n Den Indian sing His praises blest,\n And lub and praise Him wid de rest,\n And neber, neber cry.\n\nThe above hymn, which may be found in different forms in old New England\ntracts and hymn-books, and which used to be sung in Methodist conference\nand prayer-meetings in the same way that old slave-hymns and the\n\"Jubilee Singers\" refrains are sometimes sung now, was composed by\nWilliam Apes, a converted Indian, who was born in Massachusetts, in\n1798. His father was a white man, but married an Indian descended from\nthe family of King Philip, the Indian warrior, and the last of the\nIndian chiefs. His grandmother was the king's granddaughter, as he\nclaimed, and was famous for her personal beauty. He caused his\nautobiography and religious experience to be published. The original\nhymn is quite long, and contains some singular and characteristic\nexpressions.\n\nThe authorship of the tune to which the words were sung has been claimed\nfor Samuel Cowdell, a schoolmaster of Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia,\n1820, but the date of the lost tune was probably much earlier.\n\nIn the early days of New England, before the Indian missions had been\nbrought to an end by the sweeping away of the tribes, several fine hymns\nwere composed by educated Indians, and were used in the churches. The\nbest known is that beginning--\n\n When shall we all meet again?\n\nIt was composed by three Indians at the planting of a memorial pine on\nleaving Dartmouth College, where they had been studying. The lines\nindicate an expectation of missionary life and work.\n\n When shall we all meet again?\n When shall we all meet again?\n Oft shall glowing hope expire,\n Oft shall wearied love retire,\n Oft shall death and sorrow reign\n Ere we all shall meet again.\n\n Though in distant lands we sigh,\n Parched beneath a burning sky,\n Though the deep between us rolls,\n Friendship shall unite our souls;\n And in fancy's wide domain,\n There we all shall meet again.\n\n When these burnished locks are gray,\n Thinned by many a toil-spent day,\n When around this youthful pine\n Moss shall creep and ivy twine,\n (Long may this loved bower remain!)\n Here may we all meet again.\n\n When the dreams of life are fled,\n When its wasted lamps are dead,\n When in cold oblivion's shade\n Beauty, health, and strength are laid,\n Where immortal spirits reign,\n There we all shall meet again.\n\nThis parting piece was sung in religious meetings as a hymn, like the\nother once so common, but later,--\n\n \"When shall we meet again,\n Meet ne'er to sever?\"\n\n--to a tune in B flat minor, excessively plaintive, and likely to sadden\nan emotional singer or hearer to tears. The full harmony is found in the\n_American Vocalist_, and the air is reprinted in the _Revivalist_\n(1868). The fact that minor music is the natural Indian tone in song\nmakes it probable that the melody is as ancient as the hymn--though no\ndate is given for either.\n\nTradition says that nearly fifty years later the same three Indians were\nprovidentially drawn to the spot where they parted, and met again, and\nwhile they were together composed and sang another ode. Truth to tell,\nhowever, it had only one note of gladness, and that was in the first\nstanza:\n\n Parted many a toil-spent year,\n Pledged in youth to memory dear,\n Still to friendship's magnet true,\n We our social joys renew;\n Bound by love's unsevered chain,\n Here on earth we meet again.\n\nThe remaining three stanzas dwell principally on the ravages time has\nmade. The reunion ode of those stoical college classmates of a stoical\nrace could have been sung in the same B flat minor.\n\n\n\"AWAKED BY SINAI'S AWFUL SOUND.\"\n\nThe name of the Indian, Samson Occum, who wrote this hymn (variously\nspelt Ockom, Ockum, Occam, Occom) is not borne by any public\ninstitution, but New England owes the foundation of Dartmouth College to\nhis hard work. Dartmouth College was originally \"Moore's Indian Charity\nSchool,\" organized (1750) in Lebanon, Ct., by Rev. Eleazer Wheelock and\nendowed (1755) by Joshua Moore (or More). Good men and women who had at\nheart the spiritual welfare of a fading race contributed to the school's\nsupport and young Indians resorted to it from both New England and the\nMiddle States, but funds were insufficient, and it was foreseen that the\ncharity must inevitably outgrow its missionary purpose and if continued\nat all must depend on a wider and more liberal patronage.\n\nSamson Occum was born in Mohegan, New London Co., Ct., probably in the\nyear 1722. Converted from paganism in 1740 (possibly under the preaching\nof Whitefield, who was in this country at that time) he desired to\nbecome a missionary to his people, and entered Eleazer Wheelock's\nschool. After four years study, then a young man of twenty-two, he began\nto teach and preach among the Montauk Indians, and in 1759 the\nPresbytery of Suffolk Co., L.I., ordained him to the ministry. A\nbenevolent society in Scotland, hearing of, his ability and zeal, gave\nhim an appointment, under its auspices, among the Oneidas in 1761, where\nhe labored four years. The interests of the school at Lebanon, where he\nhad been educated, were dear to him, and he was tireless in its cause,\nprocuring pupils for it, and working eloquently as its advocate with\nvoice and pen. In 1765 he crossed the Atlantic to solicit funds for the\nIndian school, and remained four years in England and Scotland,\nlecturing in its behalf, and preaching nearly four hundred sermons. As a\nresult he raised ten thousand pounds. The donation was put in charge of\na Board of Trustees of which Lord Dartmouth was chairman. When it was\ndecided to remove the school from Lebanon, Ct., the efforts of Governor\nWentworth, of New Hampshire, secured its location at Hanover in that\nstate. It was christened after Lord Dartmouth--and the names of Occum,\nMoore and Wheelock retired into the encyclopedias.\n\nThe Rev. Samson Occum died in 1779, while laboring among the Stockbridge\n(N.Y.) Indians. Several hymns were written by this remarkable man, and\nalso \"An Account of the Customs and Manners of the Montauks.\" The hymn,\n\"Awaked by Sinai's Awful Sound,\" set to the stentorian tune of \"Ganges,\"\nwas a tremendous sermon in itself to old-time congregations, and is\nprobably as indicative of the doctrines which converted its writer as of\nthe contemporary belief prominent in choir and pulpit.\n\n Awaked by Sinai's awful sound,\n My soul in bonds of guilt I found,\n And knew not where to go,\n Eternal truth did loud proclaim\n \"The sinner must be born again.\n Or sink in endless woe.\"\n\n When to the law I trembling fled,\n It poured its curses on my head:\n I no relief could find.\n This fearful truth increased my pain,\n \"The sinner must be born again,\"\n And whelmed my troubled mind.\n\n * * * * *\n\n But while I thus in anguish lay,\n Jesus of Nazareth passed that way;\n I felt His pity move.\n The sinner, once by justice slain,\n Now by His grace is born again,\n And sings eternal Love!\n\nThe rugged original has been so often and so variously altered and\n\"toned down,\" that only a few unusually accurate aged memories can\nrecall it. The hymn began going out of use fifty years ago, and is now\nseldom seen.\n\nThe name \"S. Chandler,\" attached to \"Ganges,\" leaves the identity of the\ncomposer in shadow. It is supposed he was born in 1760. The tune\nappeared about 1790.\n\n\n\"WHERE NOW ARE THE HEBREW CHILDREN?\"\n\nThis quaint old unison, repeating the above three times, followed by the\nanswer (thrice repeated) and climaxed with--\n\n Safely in the Promised Land,\n\n--was a favorite at ancient camp-meetings, and a good leader could keep\nit going in a congregation or a happy group of vocalists, improvising a\nnew start-line after every stop until his memory or invention gave out.\n\n They went up from the fiery furnace,\n They went up from the fiery furnace,\n They went up from the fiery furnace,\n Safely to the Promised Land.\n\nSometimes it was--\n\n Where now is the good Elijah?\n\n--and,--\n\n He went up in a chariot of fire;\n\n--and again,--\n\n Where now is the good old Daniel?\n\n He went up from the den of lions;\n\n--and so on, finally announcing--\n\n By and by we'll go home for to meet him, [three times]\n Safely in the Promised Land.\n\nThe enthusiasm excited by the swinging rhythm of the tune sometimes rose\nto a passionate pitch, and it was seldom used in the more controlled\nreligious assemblies. If any attempt was ever made to print the song[22]\nthe singers had little need to read the music. Like the ancient runes,\nit came into being by spontaneous generation, and lived in phonetic\ntradition.\n\n[Footnote 22: Mr. Hubert P. Main believes he once saw \"The Hebrew\nChildren\" in print in one of Horace Waters' editions of the _Sabbath\nBell_.]\n\nA strange, wild paean of exultant song was one often heard from Peter\nCartwright, the muscular circuit-preacher. A remembered fragment shows\nits quality:\n\n Then my soul mounted higher\n In a chariot of fire,\n And the moon it was under my feet.\n\nThere is a tradition that he sang it over a stalwart blacksmith while\nchastising him for an ungodly defiance and assault in the course of one\nof his gospel journeys--and that the defeated blacksmith became his\nfriend and follower.\n\nPeter Cartwright was born in Amherst county, Va., Sept. 1, 1785, and\ndied near Pleasant Plains, Sangamon county, Ill., Sept., 1872.\n\n\n\"THE EDEN OF LOVE.\"\n\nThis song, written early in the last century, by John J. Hicks, recalls\nthe name of the eccentric traveling evangelist, Lorenzo Dow, born in\nCoventry, Ct., October 16, 1777; died in Washington, D.C., Feb. 2,\n1834. It was the favorite hymn of his wife, the beloved Peggy Dow, and\nhas furnished the key-word of more than one devotional rhyme that has\nuplifted the toiling souls of rural evangelists and their greenwood\ncongregations:\n\n How sweet to reflect on the joys that await me\n In yon blissful region, the haven of rest,\n Where glorified spirits with welcome shall greet me,\n And lead me to mansions prepared for the blest.\n There, dwelling in light, and with glory enshrouded,\n My happiness perfect, my mind's sky unclouded,\n I'll bathe in the ocean of pleasure unbounded,\n And range with delight through the Eden of love.\n\nThe words and tune were printed in _Leavitt's Christian Lyre_, 1830.\n\nThe same strain in the same metre is continued in the hymn of Rev. Wm.\nHunter, D.D., (1842) printed in his _Minstrel of Zion_ (1845). J.W.\nDadmun's _Melodian_ (1860) copied it, retaining, apparently, the\noriginal music, with an added refrain of invitation, \"Will you go? will\nyou go?\"\n\n We are bound for the land of the pure and the holy,\n The home of the happy, the kingdom of love;\n Ye wand'rers from God on the broad road of folly,\n O say, will you go to the Eden above?\n\nThe old hymn-tune has a brisk out-door delivery, and is full of revival\nfervor and the ozone of the pines.\n\n\n\"O CANA-AN, BRIGHT CANA-AN\"\n\nWas one of the stimulating melodies of the old-time awakenings, which\nwere simply airs, and were sung unisonously. \"O Cana-an\" (pronounced in\nthree syllables) was the chorus, the hymn-lines being either improvised\nor picked up miscellaneously from memory, the interline, \"I am bound for\nthe land of Cana-an,\" occurring between every two. John Wesley's \"How\nhappy is the pilgrim's lot\" was one of the snatched stanzas swept into\nthe current of the song. An example of the tune-leader's improvisations\nto keep the hymn going was--\n\n If you get there before I do,--\n _I am bound for the land of Cana-an!_\n Look out for me, I'm coming too--\n _I am bound for the land of Cana-an!_\n\nAnd then hymn and tune took possession of the assembly and rolled on in\na circle with--\n\n O Cana-an, bright Cana-an!\n I am bound for the land of Cana-an;\n O Cana-an it is my hap-py home,\n I am bound for the land of Cana-an\n\n--till the voices came back to another starting-line and began again.\nThere was always a movement to the front when that tune was sung,\nand--with all due abatement for superficial results in the sensation of\nthe moment--it is undeniable that many souls were truly born into the\nkingdom of God under the sound of that rude woodland song.\n\nBoth its words and music are credited to Rev. John Maffit, who probably\nwrote the piece about 1829.\n\n\n\"A CHARGE TO KEEP I HAVE.\"\n\nThis hymn of Charles Wesley was often heard at the camp grounds, from\nthe rows of tents in the morning while the good women prepared their\npancakes and coffee, and\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nwas invariably old \"Kentucky,\" by Jeremiah Ingalls. Sung as a solo by a\nsweet and spirited voice, it slightly resembled \"Golden Hill,\" but\noftener its halting bars invited a more drawling style of execution\nunworthy of a hymn that merits a tune like \"St. Thomas.\"\n\nOld \"Kentucky\" was not field music.\n\n\n\"CHRISTIANS, IF YOUR HEARTS ARE WARM.\"\n\nElder John Leland, born in Grafton, Mass., 1754, was not only a\nstrenuous personality in the Baptist denomination, but was well known\neverywhere in New England, and, in fact, his preaching trip to\nWashington (1801) with the \"Cheshire Cheese\" made his fame national. He\nis spoken of as \"the minister who wrote his own hymns\"--a peculiarity in\nwhich he imitated Watts and Doddridge. When some natural shrinking was\nmanifest in converts of his winter revivals, under his rigid rule of\nimmediate baptism, he wrote this hymn to fortify them:\n\n Christians, if your hearts are warm,\n Ice and cold can do no harm;\n If by Jesus you are prized\n Rise, believe and be baptized.\n\nHe found use for the hymn, too, in rallying church-members who staid\naway from his meetings in bad weather. The \"poetry\" expressed what he\nwanted to say--which, in his view, was sufficient apology for it. It was\nsung in revival meetings like others that he wrote, and a few hymnbooks\nnow long obsolete contained it; but of Leland's hymns only one survives.\nGray-headed men and women remember being sung to sleep by their mothers\nwith that old-fashioned evening song to Amzi Chapin's[23] tune--\n\n The day is past and gone,\n The evening shades appear,\n O may we all remember well\n The night of death draws near;\n\n--and with all its solemnity and other-worldness it is dear to\nrecollection, and its five stanzas are lovingly hunted up in the few\nhymnals where it is found. Bradbury's \"Braden,\" (_Baptist Praise Book_,\n1873,) is one of its tunes.\n\n[Footnote 23: Amzi Chapin has left, apparently, nothing more than the\nrecord of his birth, March 2, 1768, and the memory of his tune. It\nappeared as early as 1805.]\n\nElder Leland was a remarkable revival preacher, and his prayers--as was\nsaid of Elder Jabez Swan's fifty or sixty years later--\"brought heaven\nand earth together.\" He traveled through the Eastern States as an\nevangelist, and spent a season in Virginia in the same work. In 1801 he\nrevisited that region on a curious errand. The farmers of Cheshire,\nMass., where Leland was then a settled pastor, conceived the plan of\nsending \"the biggest cheese in America\" to President Jefferson, and\nLeland (who was a good democrat) offered to go to Washington on an\nox-team with it, and \"preach all the way\"--which he actually did.\n\nThe cheese weighed 1450 lbs.\n\nElder Leland died in North Adams, Mass., Jan. 14, 1844. Another of his\nhymns, which deserved to live with his \"Evening Song,\" seemed to be\nanswered in the brightness of his death-bed hope:\n\n O when shall I see Jesus\n And reign with Him above,\n And from that flowing fountain\n Drink everlasting love?\n\n\n\"AWAKE, MY SOUL, TO JOYFUL LAYS.\"\n\nThis glad hymn of Samuel Medley is his thanksgiving song, written soon\nafter his conversion. In the places of rural worship no lay of\nChristian praise and gratitude was ever more heartily sung than this at\nthe testimony meetings.\n\n Awake, my soul, to joyful lays,\n And sing thy great Redeemer's praise;\n He justly claims a song from me:\n His loving-kindness, oh, how free!\n Loving-kindness, loving-kindness,\n His loving-kindness, oh, how free!\n\n\n_THE TUNE,_\n\nWith its queer curvet in every second line, had no other name than\n\"Loving-Kindness,\" and was probably a camp-meeting melody in use for\nsome time before its publication. It is found in _Leavitt's Christian\nLyre_ as early as 1830. The name \"William Caldwell\" is all that is known\nof its composer, though he is supposed to have lived in Tennessee.\n\n\n\"THE LORD INTO HIS GARDEN COMES.\"\n\nWas a common old-time piece sure to be heard at every religious rally,\nand every one present, saint and sinner, had it by heart, or at least\nthe chorus of it--\n\n Amen, amen, my soul replies,\n I'm bound to meet you in the skies,\n And claim my mansion there, etc.\n\nThe anonymous[24] \"Garden Hymn, as old, at least, as 1800,\" has nearly\npassed out of reach, except by the long arm of the antiquary; but it\nserved its generation.\n\n[Footnote 24: A \"Rev.\" Mr. Campbell, author of \"The Glorious Light of\nZion,\" \"There is a Holy City,\" and \"There is a Land of Pleasure,\" has\nbeen sometimes credited with the origin of the Garden Hymn.]\n\nIts vigorous tune is credited to Jeremiah Ingalls (1764-1838).\n\n The Lord into His garden comes;\n The spices yield a rich perfume,\n The lilies grow and thrive,\n The lilies grow and thrive.\n Refreshing showers of grace divine\n From Jesus flow to every vine,\n Which makes the dead revive,\n Which makes the dead revive.\n\n\n\"THE CHARIOT! THE CHARIOT!\"\n\nHenry Hart Milman, generally known as Dean Milman, was born in 1791, and\nwas educated at Oxford. In 1821 he was installed as university professor\nof poetry at Oxford, and it was while filling this position that he\nwrote this celebrated hymn, under the title of \"The Last Day.\" It is not\nonly a hymn, but a poem--a sublime ode that recalls, in a different\nmovement, the tones of the \"Dies Irae.\"\n\nDean Milman (of St Paul's), besides his many striking poems and learned\nhistorical works, wrote at least twelve hymns, among which are--\n\n Ride on, ride on in majesty,\n\n O help us Lord; each hour of need\n Thy heavenly succor give,\n\n When our heads are bowed with woe,\n\n--which last may have been written soon after he laid three of his\nchildren in one grave, in the north aisle of Westminster Abbey. He\nlived a laborious and useful life of seventy-seven years, dying Sept.\n24, 1868.\n\nThere were times in the old revivals when the silver clarion of the\n\"Chariot Hymn\" must needs replace the ruder blast of Occum in old\n\"Ganges\" and sinners unmoved by the invisible God of Horeb be made to\nbehold Him--in a vision of the \"Last Day.\"\n\n The Chariot! the Chariot! its wheels roll in fire\n When the Lord cometh down in the pomp of His ire,\n Lo, self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud,\n And the heavens with the burden of Godhead are bowed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The Judgment! the Judgment! the thrones are all set,\n Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met;\n There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord,\n And the doom of eternity hangs on His word.\n\nThe name \"Williams\" or \"J. Williams\" is attached to various editions of\nthe trumpet-like tune, but so far no guide book gives us location, date\nor sketch of the composer.\n\n\n\"COME, MY BRETHREN.\"\n\nAnother of the \"unstudied\" revival hymns of invitation.\n\n Come, my brethren, let us try\n For a little season\n Every burden to lay by,\n Come and let us reason.\n\n What is this that casts you down.\n What is this that grieves you?\n Speak and let your wants be known;\n Speaking may relieve you.\n\nThis colloquial rhyme was apt to be started by some good brother or\nsister in one of the chilly pauses of a prayer-meeting. The air (there\nwas never anything more to it) with a range of only a fifth, slurred the\nlast syllable of every second line, giving the quaint effect of a bent\nnote, and altogether the music was as homely as the verse. Both are\nanonymous. But the little chant sometimes served its purpose wonderfully\nwell.\n\n\n\"BRETHREN, WHILE WE SOJOURN HERE.\"\n\nThis hymn was always welcome in the cottage meetings as well as in the\nlarger greenwood assemblies. It was written by Rev. Joseph Swain, about\n1783.\n\n Brethren, while we sojourn here\n Fight we must, but should not fear.\n Foes we have, but we've a Friend,\n One who loves us to the end;\n Forward then with courage go;\n Long we shall not dwell below,\n Soon the joyful news will come,\n \"Child, your Father calls, 'Come home.'\"\n\nThe tune was sometimes \"Pleyel's Hymn,\" but oftener it was sung to a\nmelody now generally forgotten of much the same movement but slurred in\npeculiarly sweet and tender turns. The cadence of the last tune gave\nthe refrain line a melting effect:\n\n Child, your Father calls, \"Come home.\"\n\nSome of the spirit of this old tune (in the few hymnals where the hymn\nis now printed) is preserved in Geo. Kingsley's \"Messiah\" which\naccompanies the words, but the modulations are wanting.\n\nJoseph Swain was born in Birmingham, Eng. in 1761. Bred among mechanics,\nhe was early apprenticed to the engraver's trade, but he was a boy of\npoetic temperament and fond of writing verses. After the spiritual\nchange which brought a new purpose into his life, he was baptized by Dr.\nRippon and studied for the ministry. At the age of about twenty-five, he\nwas settled over the Baptist church in Walworth, where he remained till\nhis death, April 16, 1796.\n\nFor more than a century his hymns have lived and been loved in all the\nEnglish-speaking world. Among those still in use are--\n\n How sweet, how heavenly is the sight,\n\n Pilgrims we are to Canaan bound,\n\n O Thou in whose presence my soul takes delight.\n\n\n\"HAPPY DAY.\"\n\n O happy day that fixed my choice.\n --_Doddridge_.\n O how happy are they who the Saviour obey.\n --_Charles Wesley_.\n\nThese were voices as sure to be heard in converts' meetings as the\nleader's prayer or text, the former sung inevitably to Rimbault's tune,\n\"Happy Day,\" and the latter to a \"Western Melody\" quite as closely akin\nto Wesley's words.\n\nEdward Francis Rimbault, born at Soho, Eng., June 13, 1816, was at\nsixteen years of age organist at the Soho Swiss Church, and became a\nskilled though not a prolific composer. He once received--and\ndeclined--the offer of an appointment as professor of music in Harvard\nCollege. Died of a lingering illness Sept, 26, 1876.\n\n\n\"COME, HOLY SPIRIT, HEAVENLY DOVE.\"\n --_Watts_.\n\nThis was the immortal song-litany that fitted almost anywhere into every\nservice. The Presbyterians and Congregationalists sang it in Tansur's\n\"St. Martins,\" the Baptists in William Jones' \"Stephens\" and the\nMethodists in Maxim's \"Turner\" (which had the most music), but the hymn\nwent about as well with one as with another.\n\nThe Rev. William Jones (1726-1800) an English rector, and Abraham Maxim\nof Buckfield, Me., (1773-1829) contributed quite a liberal share of the\n\"continental\" tunes popular in the latter part of the 18th century.\nMaxim was eccentric, but the tradition that an unfortunate affair of the\nheart once drove him into the woods to make away with himself, but a\nbird on the roof of a logger's hut, making plaintive sounds,\ninterrupted him, and he sat down and wrote the tune \"Hallowell,\" on a\nstrip of white birch bark, is more likely legendary. The following\nwords, said to have inspired his minor tune, are still set to it in the\nold collections:\n\n As on some lonely building's top\n The sparrow makes her moan,\n Far from the tents of joy and hope\n I sit and grieve alone.[25]\n\n[Footnote 25: Versified by Nahum Tate from Ps. 102:7.]\n\nMaxim was fond of the minor mode, but his minors, like \"Hallowell,\" \"New\nDurham,\" etc., are things of the past. His major chorals and fugues,\nsuch as \"Portland,\" \"Buckfield,\" and \"Turner\" had in them the spirit of\nhealthier melody and longer life. He published at least two collections,\n_The Oriental Harmony_, in 1802, and _The Northern Harmony_, in 1805.\n\nWilliam Tansur (Tans-ur), author of \"St. Martins\" (1669-1783), was an\norganist, composer, compiler, and theoretical writer. He was born at\nBarnes, Surrey, Eng., (according to one account,) and died at St.\nNeot's.\n\n\n\"COME, THOU FOUNT OF EVERY BLESSING.\"\n\nThis hymn of Rev. Robert Robinson was almost always heard in the tune of\n\"Nettleton,\" composed by John Wyeth, about 1812. The more wavy melody of\n\"Sicily\" (or \"Sicilian Hymn\") sometimes carried the verses, but never\nwith the same sympathetic unction. The sing-song movement and accent of\nold \"Nettleton\" made it the country favorite.\n\nRobert Robinson, born in Norfolk, Eng., Sept. 27, 1735, was a poor boy,\nleft fatherless at eight years of age, and apprenticed to a barber, but\nwas converted by the preaching of Whitefield and studied till he\nobtained a good education, and was ordained to the Methodist ministry.\nHe is supposed to have written his well-known hymn in 1758. A certain\nunsteadiness of mind, however, caused him to revise his religious\nbeliefs too often for his spiritual health or enjoyment, and after\npreaching as a Methodist, a Baptist, and an Independent, he finally\nbecame a Socinian. On a stage-coach journey, when a lady\nfellow-passenger began singing \"Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,\" to\nrelieve the monotony of the ride, he said to her, \"Madam, I am the\nunhappy man who wrote that hymn many years ago; and I would give a\nthousand worlds, if I had them, if I could feel as I felt then.\"\n\nRobinson died June 9, 1790.\n\nJohn Wyeth was born in Cambridge, Mass., 1792, and died at Harrisburg,\nPa., 1858. He was a musician and publisher, and issued a Music Book,\n_Wyeth's Repository of Sacred Music_.\n\n\n\"A POOR WAYFARING MAN OF GRIEF,\"\n\nWritten by James Montgomery, Dec., 1826, was a hymn of tide and headway\nin George Coles' tune of \"Duane St.,\" with a step that made every heart\nbeat time. The four picturesque eight-line stanzas made a practical\nsermon in verse and song from Matt. 25:35, telling how--\n\n A poor wayfaring man of grief\n Hath often crossed me on my way,\n Who sued so humbly for relief\n That I could never answer nay.\n I had no power to ask his name,\n Whither he went or whence he came,\n Yet there was something in his eye\n That won my love, I knew not why;\n\n--and in the second and third stanzas the narrator relates how he\nentertained him, and this was the sequel--\n\n Then in a moment to my view\n The stranger started from disguise\n The token in His hand I knew;\n My Saviour stood before my eyes.\n\nWhen once that song was started, every tongue took it up, (and it was\nstrange if every foot did not count the measure,) and the coldest\nkindled with gospel warmth as the story swept on.[26]\n\n[Footnote 26: Montgomery's poem, \"The Stranger,\" has seven stanzas. The\nfull dramatic effect of their connection could only be produced by a set\npiece.]\n\n\n\"WHEN FOR ETERNAL WORLDS I STEER.\"\n\nIt was no solitary experience for hearers in a house of prayer where the\nfamous Elder Swan held the pulpit, to feel a climactic thrill at the\nsudden breaking out of the eccentric orator with this song in the very\nmiddle of his sermon--\n\n When for eternal worlds I steer,\n And seas are calm and skies are clear,\n And faith in lively exercise,\n And distant hills of Canaan rise,\n My soul for joy then claps her wings,\n And loud her lovely sonnet sings,\n \"Vain world, adieu!\"\n\n With cheerful hope her eyes explore\n Each landmark on the distant shore,\n The trees of life, the pastures green,\n The golden streets, the crystal stream,\n Again for joy, she claps her wings,\n And loud her lovely sonnet sings,\n \"Vain world, adieu!\"\n\nElder Jabez Swan was born in Stonington, Ct., Feb. 23, 1800, and died\n1884. He was a tireless worker as a pastor (long in New London, Ct.,)\nand a still harder toiler in the field as an evangelist and as a helper\neagerly called for in revivals; and, through all, he was as happy as a\nboy in vacation. He was unlearned in the technics of the schools, but\nalways eloquent and armed with ready wit; unpolished, but poetical as a\nHebrew prophet and as terrible in his treatment of sin. Scoffers and\n\"hoodlums\" who interrupted him in his meetings never interrupted him but\nonce.\n\n[Illustration: James Montgomery]\n\nThe more important and canonical hymnals and praise-books had no place\nfor \"Sonnet,\" as the bugle-like air to this hymn was called. Rev.\nJonathan Aldrich, about 1860, harmonized it in his _Sacred Lyre_, but\nthis, and the few other old vestry and field manuals that contain it,\nwere compiled before it became the fashion to date and authenticate\nhymns and tunes. In this case both are anonymous. Another (and probably\nearlier) tune sung to the same words is credited to \"S. Arnold,\" and\nappears to have been composed about 1790.\n\n\n\"I'M A PILGRIM, AND I'M A STRANGER.\"\n\nThis hymn still lives--and is likely to live, at least in collections\nthat print revival music. Mrs. Mary Stanley (Bunce) Dana, born in\nBeaufort, S.C., Feb. 15, 1810, wrote it while living in a northern\nstate, where her husband died. By the name Dana she is known in\nhymnology, though she afterwards became Mrs. Shindler. The tune\nidentified with the hymn, \"I'm a Pilgrim,\" is untraced, save that it is\nsaid to be an \"Italian Air,\" and that its original title was \"Buono\nNotte\" (good night).\n\nNo other hymn better expresses the outreaching of ardent faith. Its very\nrepetitions emphasize and sweeten the vision of longed-for fruition.\n\n I can tarry, I can tarry but a night,\n Do not detain me, for I am going.\n\n * * * * *\n\n There the sunbeams are ever shining,\n O my longing heart, my longing heart is there.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Of that country to which I'm going,\n My Redeemer, my Redeemer is the light.\n There is no sorrow, nor any sighing,\n Nor any sin there, nor any dying,\n I'm a pilgrim, etc.\n\nThe same devout poetess also wrote (1840) the once popular consolatory\nhymn,--\n\n O sing to me of heaven\n When I'm about to die,\n\n--sung to the familiar tune by Rev. E.W. Dunbar; also to a melody\ncomposed 1854 by Dr. William Miller.\n\nThe line was first written--\n\n When _I am called_ to die,\n\n--in the author's copy. The hymn (occasioned by the death of a pious\nfriend) was written Jan. 15, 1840.\n\nMrs. Dana (Shindler) died in Texas, Feb. 8, 1883.\n\n\n\"JOYFULLY, JOYFULLY ONWARD I MOVE.\"\n\nThe maker of this hymn has been confounded with the maker of its\ntune--partly, perhaps, from the fact that the real composer of the tune\nalso wrote hymns. The author of the words was the Rev. William Hunter,\nD.D., an Irish-American, and a Methodist minister. He was born near\nBallymoney, County Antrim, Ire., May, 1811, and was brought to America\nwhen a child six years old. He received his education in the common\nschools and at Madison College, Hamilton, N.Y., (now Madison\nUniversity), and was successively a pastor, editor and Hebrew professor.\nBesides his work in these different callings, he wrote many helpful\nhymns--in all one hundred and twenty-five--of which \"Joyfully,\nJoyfully,\" dated 1842, is the best. It began originally with the line--\n\n Friends fondly cherished have passed on before,\n\n--and the line,--\n\n Home to the land of delight I will go.\n\n--was written,--\n\n Home to the land of bright spirits I'll go.\n\nDr. Hunter died in Ohio, 1877.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nRev. Abraham Dow Merrill, the author of the music to this triumphal\ndeath-song, was born in Salem, N.H., 1796, and died April 29, 1878. He\nalso was a Methodist minister, and is still everywhere remembered by the\ndenomination to which he belonged in New Hampshire and Vermont. He rode\nover these states mingling in revival scenes many years. His picture\nbears a close resemblance to that of Washington, and he was somewhat\nfamous for this resemblance. His work was everywhere blessed, and he\nleft an imperishable influence in New England. The tune, linked with Dr.\nHunter's hymn, formed the favorite melody which has been the dying song\nof many who learned to sing it amid the old revival scenes:\n\n Death, with thy weapons of war lay me low;\n Strike, king of terrors; I fear not the blow.\n Jesus has broken the bars of the tomb,\n Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home.\n\n\n\"TIS THE OLD SHIP OF ZION, HALLELUJAH!\"\n\nThis may be found, vocalized with full harmony, in the _American\nVocalist_. With all the parts together (more or less) it must have made\na vociferous song-service, but the hymn was oftener sung simply in\nsoprano unison; and there was sound enough in the single melody to\nsatisfy the most zealous.\n\n All her passengers will land on the bright eternal shore,\n O, glory hallelujah!\n She has landed many thousands, and will land as many more,\n O, glory hallelujah!\n\nBoth hymn and tune have lost their creators' names, and, like many\nanother \"voice crying in the wilderness,\" they have left no record of\ntheir beginning of days.\n\n\n\"MY BROTHER, I WISH YOU WELL.\"\n\n My brother, I wish you well,\n My brother, I wish you well;\n When my Lord calls I trust you will\n Be mentioned in the Promised Land.\n\nEchoes that remain to us of those fervid and affectionate, as well as\nresolute and vehement, expressions of religious life as sung in the\nearly revivals of New England, in parts of the South, and especially in\nthe Middle West, are suggestive of spontaneous melody forest-born, and\nas unconscious of scale, clef or tempo as the song of a bird. The above\n\"hand-shaking\" ditty at the altar gatherings apparently took its tune\nself-made, inspired in its first singer's soul by the feeling of the\nmoment--and the strain was so simple that the convert could join in at\nonce and chant--\n\n When my Lord comes I trust _I shall_\n\n--through all the loving rotations of the crude hymn-tune. Such\nsong-births of spiritual enthusiasm are beyond enumeration--and it is\nuseless to hunt for author or composer. Under the momentum of a\nwrestling hour or a common rapture of experience, counterpoint was\nunthought of, and the same notes for every voice lifted pleading and\npraise in monophonic impromptu. The refrains--\n\n O how I love Jesus,\n\n O the Lamb, the Lamb, the loving Lamb,\n\n I'm going home to die no more,\n\n Pilgrims we are to Canaan's land,\n\n O turn ye, O turn ye, for why will you die,\n\n Come to Jesus, come to Jesus, just now,\n\n--each at the sound of its first syllable brought its own music to every\nsinger's tongue, and all--male and female--were sopranos together. This\nhabit in singing those rude liturgies of faith and fellowship was\nrecognized by the editors of the _Revivalist_, and to a multitude of\nthem space was given only for the printed melody, and of this sometimes\nonly the three or four initial bars. The tunes were the church's rural\nfield-tones that everybody knew.\n\nCulture smiles at this unclassic hymnody of long ago, but its history\nshould disarm criticism. To wanderers its quaint music and \"pedestrian\"\nverse were threshold call and door-way welcome into the church of the\nliving God. Even in the flaming days of the Second Advent following, in\n1842-3, they awoke in many hardened hearts the spiritual glow that never\ndies. The delusion passed away, but the grace remained.\n\nThe church--and the world--owe a long debt to the old evangelistic\nrefrains that rang through the sixty years before the Civil War, some of\nthem flavored with tuneful piety of a remoter time. They preached\nrighteousness, and won souls that sermons could not reach. They opened\nheaven to thousands who are now rejoicing there.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nSUNDAY-SCHOOL HYMNS.\n\n\n_SHEPHERD OF TENDER YOUTH._\n\n[Greek: Stomion polon adaon]\n\nWe are assured by repeated references in the patristic writings that the\nprimitive years of the Christian Church were not only years of suffering\nbut years of song. That the despised and often persecuted \"Nazarenes,\"\nscattered in little colonies throughout the Roman Empire, did not forget\nto mingle tones of praise and rejoicing with their prayers could readily\nbe believed from the much-quoted letter of a pagan lawyer, written about\nas long after Jesus' death, as from now back to the death of John Quincy\nAdams--the letter of Pliny the younger to the Emperor Trajan, in which\nhe reports the Christians at their meetings singing \"hymns to Christ as\nto a god.\"\n\nThose disciples who spoke Greek seem to have been especially tuneful,\nand their land of poets was doubtless the cradle of Christian hymnody.\nBelievers taught their songs to their children, and it is as certain\nthat the oldest Sunday-school hymn was written somewhere in the classic\nEast as that the Book of Revelation was written on the Isle of Patmos.\nThe one above indicated was found in an appendix to the _Tutor_, a book\ncomposed by Titus Flavius Clemens of Alexandria, a Christian philosopher\nand instructor whose active life began late in the second century. It\nfollows a treatise on Jesus as the Great Teacher, and, though his own\nwords elsewhere imply a more ancient origin of the poem, it is always\ncalled \"Clement's Hymn.\" The line quoted above is the first of an\nEnglish version by the late Rev. Henry Martyn Dexter, D.D. It does not\nprofess to be a translation, but aims to transfer to our common tongue\nthe spirit and leading thoughts of the original.\n\n Shepherd of tender youth,\n Guiding in love and truth\n Through devious ways;\n Christ, our triumphant King,\n We come Thy name to sing,\n Hither our children bring\n To shout Thy praise.\n\nThe last stanza of Dr. Dexter's version represents the sacred song\nspirit of both the earliest and the latest Christian centuries:\n\n So now, and till we die\n Sound we Thy praises high,\n And joyful sing;\n Infants, and the glad throng\n Who to Thy church belong\n Unite to swell the song\n To Christ our King.\n\nWhile they give us the sentiment and the religious tone of the old hymn,\nthese verses, however, recognize the extreme difficulty of anything like\nverbal fidelity in translating a Greek hymn, and in this instance there\nare metaphors to avoid as being strange to modern taste. The first\nstanza, literally rendered and construed, is as follows:\n\n Bridle of untaught foals,\n Wing of unwandering birds,\n Helm and Girdle of babes,\n Shepherd of royal lambs!\n Assemble Thy simple children\n To praise holily,\n To hymn guilelessly\n With innocent mouths\n Christ, the Guide of children.\n\nFigures like--\n\n Catching the chaste fishes,\n\n Heavenly milk, etc.\n\n--are necessarily avoided in making good English of the lines, and the\nprofusion of adoring epithets in the ancient poem (no less than\ntwenty-one different titles of Christ) would embarrass a modern song.\n\nDr. Dexter might have chosen an easier metre for his version, if (which\nis improbable) he intended it to be sung, since a tune written to sixes\nand fours takes naturally a more decided lyrical movement and emphasis\nthan the hymn reveals in his stanzas, though the second and fifth\npossess much of the hymn quality and would sound well in Giardini's\n\"Italian Hymn.\"\n\nMore nearly a translation, and more in the cantabile style, is the\nversion of a Scotch Presbyterian minister, Rev. Hamilton M. Macgill,\nD.D., two of whose stanzas are these:\n\n Thyself, Lord, be the Bridle\n These wayward wills to stay;\n Be Thine the Wing unwand'ring,\n To speed their upward way.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Let them with songs adoring\n Their artless homage bring\n To Christ the Lord, and crown Him\n The children's Guide and King.\n\nThe Dexter version is set to Monk's slow harmony of \"St. Ambrose\" in the\n_Plymouth Hymnal_ (Ed. Dr. Lyman Abbott, 1894) without the writer's\nname--which is curious, inasmuch as the hymn was published in the\n_Congregationalist_ in 1849, in _Hedge and Huntington's_ (Unitarian)\n_Hymn-book_ in 1853, in the _Hymnal of the Presbyterian Church_ in 1866,\nand in Dr. Schaff's _Christ in Song_ in 1869.\n\nClement died about A.D. 220.\n\n\nRev. Henry Martyn Dexter, D.D., for twenty-three years the editor of the\n_Congregationalist_, was born in Plymouth, Mass., Aug. 13, 1821. He was\na graduate of Yale (1840) and Andover Divinity School (1844), a\nwell-known antiquarian writer and church historian. Died Nov. 13, 1890.\n\n\n\"HOW HAPPY IS THE CHILD WHO HEARS.\"\n\nThis hymn was quite commonly heard in Sunday-schools during the\neighteen-thirties and forties, and, though retained in few modern\ncollections, its Sabbath echo lingers in the memory of the living\ngeneration. It was written by Michael Bruce, born at Kinneswood,\nKinross-shire, Scotland, March 27, 1746. He was the son of a weaver, but\nobtained a good education, taught school, and studied for the ministry.\nHe died, however, while in preparation for his expected work, July 5,\n1767, at the age of twenty-one years, three months and eight days.\n\nYoung Bruce wrote hymns, and several poems, but another person wore the\nhonors of his work. John Logan, who was his literary executor,\nappropriated the youthful poet's Mss. verses, and the hymn above\nindicated--as well as the beautiful poem, \"To the Cuckoo,\"[27] still a\nclassic in English literature,--bore the name of Logan for more than a\nhundred years. In _Julian's Dictionary of Hymnology_ is told at length\nthe story of the inquiry and discussion which finally exposed the long\nfraud upon the fame of the rising genius who sank, like Henry Kirke\nWhite, in his morning of promise.\n\n[Footnote 27:\n Hail, beauteous stranger of the wood,\n Attendant on the Spring;\n Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,\n And woods thy welcome ring.]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOld \"Balerma\" was so long the musical mouth-piece of the pious\nboy-schoolmaster's verses that the two became one expression, and one\ncould not be named without suggesting the other.\n\n\"Balerma\" (Palermo) was ages away in style and sound from the later type\nof Sunday-school tunes, resembling rather one of Palestrina's chorals\nthan the tripping melodies that took its place; but in its day juvenile\nvoices enjoyed it, and it suited very well the grave but winning words.\n\n How happy is the child who hears\n Instruction's warning voice,\n And who celestial Wisdom makes\n His early, only choice!\n\n For she hath treasures greater far\n Than East and West unfold,\n And her rewards more precious are\n Than all their stores of gold.\n\n She guides the young with innocence\n In pleasure's path to tread,\n A crown of glory she bestows\n Upon the hoary head.\n\nRobert Simpson, author of the old tune,[28] was a Scottish composer of\npsalmody; born, about 1722, in Glasgow; and died, in Greenock, June,\n1838.\n\n[Footnote 28: The tune was evidently reduced from the still older\n\"Sardius\" (or \"Autumn\")--_Hubert P. Main_.]\n\n\n\"O DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED.\"\n\nWritten about 1803, by the Rev. John A. Grenade, born in 1770; died\n1806.\n\n O do not be discouraged, }\n For Jesus is your Friend; } _bis_\n He will give you grace to conquer,\n And keep you to the end.\n\n Fight on, ye little soldiers, }\n The battle you shall win, } _bis_\n For the Saviour is your Captain,\n And He has vanquished sin.\n\n And when the conflict's over, }\n Before Him you shall stand, } _bis_\n You shall sing His praise forever\n In Canaan's happy land.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn was made popular thirty or more years ago in a musical\narrangement by Hubert P. Main, with a chorus,--\n\n I'm glad I'm in this army,\n And I'll battle for the school.\n\nChildren took to the little song with a keen relish, and put their whole\nsouls--and bodies--into it.\n\n\n\"LITTLE TRAVELLERS ZIONWARD\"\n\nBelongs to a generation long past. Its writer was an architect by\noccupation, and a man whose piety equalled his industry. He was born in\nLondon 1791, and his name was James Edmeston. He loved to compose\nreligious verses--so well, in fact, that he is said to have prepared a\nnew piece every week for Sunday morning devotions in his family and in\nthis way accumulated a collection which he published and called\n_Cottager's Hymns_. Besides these he is credited with a hundred\nSunday-school hymns.\n\n Little travellers Zionward,\n Each one entering into rest\n In the Kingdom of your Lord,\n In the mansions of the blest,\n\n There to welcome Jesus waits,\n Gives the crown His followers win,\n Lift your heads, ye golden gates,\n Let the little travellers in.\n\nThe original tune is lost--and the hymn is vanishing with it; but the\nfelicity of its rhyme and rhythm show how easily it adapted itself to\nmusic.\n\n\n\"I'M BUT A STRANGER HERE.\"\n\nThe simple beauty of this hymn, and the sympathetic sweetness of its\ntune made children love to sing it, and it found its way into a few\nSunday-school collections, though not composed for such use.\n\nA young Congregational minister. Rev. Thomas Rawson Taylor, wrote it on\nthe approach of his early end. He was born at Osset, near Wakefield,\nYorkshire, Eng., May 9, 1807, and studied in Bradford, where his father\nhad taken charge of a large church, and at Manchester Academy and\nAiresdale College. Sensible of a growing ailment that might shorten his\ndays, he hastened to the work on which his heart was set, preaching in\nsurrounding towns and villages while a student, and finally quitting\ncollege to be ordained to his sacred profession. He was installed as\npastor of Howard St. Chapel, Sheffield, July, 1830, when only\ntwenty-three. But in less than three years his strength failed, and he\nwent back to Bradford, where he occasionally preached for his father,\nwhen able to do so, during his last days. He died there March 15, 1835.\nTaylor was a brave and lovely Christian--and his hymn is as sweet as his\nlife.\n\n I'm but a stranger here,\n Heaven is my home;\n Earth is a desert drear,\n Heaven is my home.\n\n Dangers and sorrows stand\n Round me on every hand;\n Heaven is my Fatherland--\n Heaven is my home.\n\n What though the tempest rage,\n Heaven is my home;\n Short is my pilgrimage,\n Heaven is my home.\n\n And time's wild, wintry blast\n Soon will be overpast;\n I shall reach home at last--\n Heaven is my home.\n\nIn his last attempt to preach, young Taylor uttered the words, \"I want\nto die like a soldier, sword in hand.\" On the evening of the same\nSabbath day he breathed his last. His words were memorable, and\nMontgomery, who loved and admired the man, made them the text of a poem,\npart of which is the familiar hymn \"Servant of God, well done.\"[29]\n\n[Footnote 29: See page 498]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nSir Arthur Sullivan put the words into classic expression, but, to\nAmerican ears at least, the tune of \"Oak,\" by Lowell Mason, is the\nhymn's true sister. It was composed in 1854.\n\n\n\"DEAR JESUS, EVER AT MY SIDE.\"\n\nOne of Frederick William Faber's sweet and simple lyrics. It voices that\ntemper and spirit in the human heart which the Saviour first looks for\nand loves best. None better than Faber could feel and utter the real\nartlessness of Christian love and faith.\n\n Dear Jesus, ever at my side,\n How loving must Thou be\n To leave Thy home in heaven to guard\n A sinful child like me.\n Thy beautiful and shining face\n I see not, tho' so near;\n The sweetness of Thy soft low voice\n I am too deaf to hear.\n\n I cannot feel Thee touch my hand\n With pressure light and mild,\n To check me as my mother did\n When I was but a child;\n But I have felt Thee in my thoughts\n Fighting with sin for me,\n And when my heart loves God I know\n The sweetness is from Thee.\n\n[Illustration: Fanny J. Crosby (Mrs. Van Alstyne)]\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Audientes\" by Sir Arthur Sullivan is a gentle, emotional piece,\nrendering the first quatrain of each stanza in E flat unison, and the\nsecond in C harmony.\n\n\n\"TIS RELIGION THAT CAN GIVE.\"\n\nThis simple rhyme, which has been sung perhaps in every Sunday-school in\nEngland and the United States, is from a small English book by Mary\nMasters. In the preface to the work, we read, \"The author of the\nfollowing poems never read a treatise of rhetoric or an art of poetry,\nnor was ever taught her English grammar. Her education rose no higher\nthan the spelling-book or her writing-master,\"\n\n 'Tis religion that can give\n Sweetest pleasure while we live;\n 'Tis religion can supply\n Solid comfort when we die.\n After death its joys shall be\n Lasting as eternity.\n\nSave the two sentences about herself, quoted above, there is no\nbiography of the writer. That she was good is taken for granted.\n\nThe tune-sister of the little hymn is as scant of date or history as\nitself. No. 422 points it out in _The Revivalist_, where the name and\ninitial seem to ascribe the authorship to Horace Waters.[30]\n\n[Footnote 30: From his _Sabbath Bell_. Horace Waters, a prominent\nBaptist layman, was born in Jefferson, Lincoln Co., Me., Nov. 1, 1812,\nand died in New York City, April 22, 1893. He was a piano-dealer and\npublisher.]\n\n\n\"THERE IS A HAPPY LAND FAR, FAR AWAY\"\n\nThis child's hymn was written by a lover of children, Mr. Andrew Young,\nhead master of Niddrey St. School, Edinburgh, and subsequently English\ninstructor at Madras College, E.I. He was born April 23, 1807, and died\nNov. 30, 1899, and long before the end of the century which his\nlife-time so nearly covered his little carol had become one of the\nuniversal hymns.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA Hindoo air or natural chanson, that may have been hummed in a pagan\ntemple in the hearing of Mr. Young, was the basis of the little melody\nsince made familiar to millions of prattling tongues.\n\nSuch running tone-rhythms create themselves in the instinct of the ruder\nnations and tribes, and even the South African savages have their\nincantations with the provincial \"clicks\" that mark the singers' time.\nWith an ear for native chirrups and trills, the author of our pretty\ninfant-school song succeeded in capturing one, and making a Christian\ntune of it.\n\nThe musician, Samuel Sebastian Wesley, sometime in the eighteen-forties,\ntried to substitute another melody for the lines, but \"There is a happy\nland\" needs its own birth-music.\n\n\n\"I HAVE A FATHER IN THE PROMISED LAND.\"\n\nAnother cazonet for the infant class. Instead of a hymn, however, it is\nonly a refrain, and--like the ring-chant of the \"Hebrew Children,\" and\neven more simple--owes its only variety to the change of one word. The\nthird and fourth lines,--\n\n My father calls me, I must go\n To meet Him in the Promised Land,\n\n--take their cue from the first, which may sing,--\n\n I have a Saviour----\n I have a mother----\n I have a brother----\n\n--and so on ad libitum. But the little ones love every sound and\nsyllable of the lisping song, for it is plain and pleasing, and when a\npinafore school grows restless nothing will sooner charm them into quiet\nthan to chime its innocent unison.\n\nBoth words and tune are nameless and storyless.\n\n\n\"I THINK WHEN I READ THAT SWEET STORY\"\n\nWhile riding in a stage-coach, after a visit to a mission school for\npoor children, this hymn came to the mind of Mrs. Jemima Thompson Luke,\nof Islington, England. It speaks its own purpose plainly enough, to\nawaken religious feeling in young hearts, and guide and sanctify the\nnatural childlike interest in the sweetest incident of the Saviour's\nlife.\n\n I think when I read that sweet story of old\n When Jesus was here among men,\n How He called little children as lambs to His fold,\n I should like to have been with them then.\n\n I wish that His hands had been laid on my head,\n And I had been placed on His knee,\n And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,\n \"Let the little ones come unto me.\"\n\nThis is not poetry, but it phrases a wish in a child's own way, to be\nmelodized and fixed in a child's reverent and sensitive memory.\n\nMrs. Luke was born at Colebrook Terrace, near London, Aug. 19, 1813. She\nwas an accomplished and benevolent lady who did much for the education\nand welfare of the poor. Her hymn--of five stanzas--was first sung in a\nvillage school at Poundford Park, and was not published until 1841.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nIt is interesting, not to say curious, testimony to the vital quality of\nthis meek production that so many composers have set it to music, or\nthat successive hymn-book editors have kept it, and printed it to so\nmany different harmonies. All the chorals that carry it have\nsubstantially the same movement--for the spondaic accent of the long\nlines is compulsory--but their offerings sing \"to one clear harp in\ndivers tones.\"\n\nThe appearance of the words in one hymnal with Sir William Davenant's\nair (full scored) to Moore's love-song, \"Believe me, if all those\nendearing young charms,\" now known as the tune of \"Fair Harvard,\" is\nrather startling at first, but the adoption is quite in keeping with the\npolicy of Luther and Wesley.\n\n\"St. Kevin\" written to it forty years ago by John Henry Cornell,\norganist of St. Paul's, New York City, is sweet and sympathetic.\n\nThe newest church collection (1905) gives the beautiful air and harmony\nof \"Athens\" to the hymn, and notes the music as a \"Greek Melody.\"\n\nBut the nameless English tune, of uncertain authorship[31] that\naccompanies the words in the smaller old manuals, and which delighted\nSunday-schools for a generation, is still the favorite in the memory of\nthousands, and may be the very music first written.\n\n[Footnote 31: Harmonized by Hubert P. Main.]\n\n\n\"WE SPEAK OF THE REALMS OF THE BLEST.\"\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Mills, wife of the Hon. Thomas Mills, M.P., was born at\nStoke Newington, Eng., 1805. She was one of the brief voices that sing\none song and die. This hymn was the only note of her minstrelsy, and it\nhas outlived her by more than three-quarters of a century. She wrote it\nabout three weeks before her decease in Finsbury Place, London, April\n21, 1839, at the age of twenty-four.\n\n We speak of the land of the blest,\n A country so bright and so fair,\n And oft are its glories confest,\n But what must it be to be there!\n\n * * * * *\n\n We speak of its freedom from sin,\n From sorrow, temptation and care,\n From trials without and within,\n But what must it be to be there!\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn, like several of the Gospel hymns besides, was carried into the\nSunday-schools by its music. Mr. Stebbins' popular duet-and-chorus is\nfluent and easily learned and rendered by rote; and while it captures\nthe ear and compels the voice of the youngest, it expresses both the\npathos and the exaltation of the words.\n\nGeorge Coles Stebbins was born in East Carleton, Orleans Co., N.Y., Feb.\n26, 1846. Educated at common school, and an academy in Albany, he turned\nhis attention to music and studied in Rochester, Chicago, and Boston. It\nwas in Chicago that his musical career began, while chorister at the\nFirst Baptist Church; and while holding the same position at Clarendon\nSt. Church, Boston, (1874-6), he entered on a course of evangelistic\nwork with D.L. Moody as gospel singer and composer. He was co-editor\nwith Sankey and McGranahan of _Gospel Hymns_.\n\n\n\"ONLY REMEMBERED.\"\n\nThis hymn, beginning originally with the lines,--\n\n Up and away like the dew of the morning,\n Soaring from earth to its home in the sun,\n\n--has been repeatedly altered since it left Dr. Bonar's hands. Besides\nthe change of metaphors, the first personal pronoun singular is changed\nto the plural. There was strength, and a natural vivacity in--\n\n So let _me_ steal away gently and lovingly,\n Only remembered for what _I_ have done.\n\nAs at present sung the first stanza reads--,\n\n Fading away like the stars of the morning\n Losing their light in the glorious sun,\n Thus would _we_ pass from the earth and its toiling\n Only remembered for what _we_ have done.\n\nThe idea voiced in the refrain is true and beautiful, and the very\neuphony of its words helps to enforce its meaning and make the song\npleasant and suggestive for young and old. It has passed into popular\nquotation, and become almost a proverb.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe tune (in _Gospel Hymns No. 6_) is Mr. Sankey's.\n\nIra David Sankey was born in Edinburgh, Lawrence Co., Pa., Aug. 28,\n1840. He united with the Methodist Church at the age of fifteen, and\nbecame choir leader, Sunday-school superintendent and president of the\nY.M.C.A., all in his native town. Hearing Philip Phillips sing impressed\nhim deeply, when a young man, with the power of a gifted solo vocalist\nover assembled multitudes, but he did not fully realize his own\ncapability till Dwight L. Moody heard his remarkable voice and\nconvinced him of his divine mission to be a gospel singer.\n\nThe success of his revival tours with Mr. Moody in America and England\nis history.\n\nMr. Sankey has compiled at least five singing books, and has written the\n_Story of the Gospel Hymns_. Until overtaken by blindness, in his later\nyears he frequently appeared as a lecturer on sacred music. The\nmanuscript of his story of the _Gospel Hymns_ was destroyed by accident,\nbut, undismayed by the ruin of his work, and the loss of his eye-sight,\nlike Sir Isaac Newton and Thomas Carlyle, he began his task again. With\nthe help of an amanuensis the book was restored and, in 1905, given to\nthe public. (See page 258.)\n\n\n\"SAVIOUR, LIKE A SHEPHERD LEAD US.\"\n\nMrs. Dorothy Ann Thrupp, of Paddington Green, London, the author of this\nhymn, was born June 20, 1799, and died, in London, Dec. 14, 1847. Her\nhymns first appeared in Mrs. Herbert Mayo's _Selection of Poetry and\nHymns for the Use of Infant and Juvenile Schools_, (1838).\n\n We are Thine, do Thou befriend us,\n Be the Guardian of our way:\n Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us,\n Seek us when we go astray;\n Blessed Jesus,\n Hear, O hear us when we pray.\n\nThe tune everywhere accepted and loved is W.B. Bradbury's; written in\n1856.\n\n\n\"YIELD NOT TO TEMPTATION\"\n\nA much used and valued hymn, with a captivating tune and chorus for\nyoung assemblies. Both words and music are by H.R. Palmer, composed in\n1868.\n\n Yield not to temptation,\n For yielding is sin;\n Each vict'ry will help you\n Some other to win.\n\n Fight manfully onward,\n Dark passions subdue;\n Look ever to Jesus,\n He will carry you through.\n\nHoratio Richmond Palmer was born in Sherburne, N.Y., April 26. 1834, of\na musical family, and sang alto in his father's choir when only nine. He\nstudied music unremittingly, and taught music at fifteen. Brought up in\na Christian home, his religious life began in his youth, and he\nconsecrated his art to the good of man and the glory of God.\n\nHe became well-known as a composer of sacred music, and as a\npublisher--the sales of his _Song Queen_ amounting to 200,000 copies. As\na leader of musical conventions and in the Church Choral Union, his\ninfluence in elevating the standard of song-worship has been widely\nfelt.\n\n\n\"THERE ARE LONELY HEARTS TO CHERISH.\"\n\n\"While the days are going by\" is the refrain of the song, and the line\nby which it is recognized. The hymn or poem was written by George\nCooper. He was born in New York City, May 14, 1840--a writer of poems\nand magazine articles,--composed \"While the days are going by\" in 1870.\n\n There are lonely hearts to cherish\n While the days are going by.\n There are weary souls who perish\n While the days are going by.\n Up! then, trusty hearts and true,\n Though the day comes, night comes, too:\n Oh, the good we all may do\n While the days are going by!\n\nThere are few more practical and always-timely verses than this\nthree-stanza poem.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nA very musical tune, with spirited chorus, (in _Gospel Hymns_) bears the\nname of the refrain, and was composed by Mr. Sankey.\n\nA sweet and quieter harmony (uncredited) is mated with the hymn in the\nold _Baptist Praise Book_ (p. 507) and this was long the fixture to the\nwords, in both Sunday-school and week-day school song-books.\n\n\n\"JESUS THE WATER OF LIFE WILL GIVE.\"\n\nThis Sunday-school lyric is the work of Fanny J. Crosby (Mrs. Van\nAlstyne). Like her other and greater hymn, \"Jesus keep me near the\nCross,\" (noted on p. 156,) it reveals the habitual attitude of the pious\nauthor's mind, and the simple earnestness of her own faith as well as\nher desire to win others.\n\n Jesus the water of life will give\n Freely, freely, freely;\n Jesus the water of life will give\n Freely to those who love Him.\n\n The Spirit and the Bride say \"Come\n Freely, freely, freely.\n And he that is thirsty let him come\n And drink the water of life.\"\n\nFull chorus,--\n\n The Fountain of life is flowing,\n Flowing, freely flowing;\n The Fountain of life is flowing,\n Is flowing for you and for me.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn must be sung as it was _made_ to be sung, and the composer\nbeing many years _en rapport_ with the writer, knew how to put all her\nmetrical rhythms into sweet sound. The tune--in Mr. Bradbury's _Fresh\nLaurels_ (1867)--is one of his sympathetic interpretations, and, with\nthe duet sung by two of the best singers of the middle class\nSunday-school girls, is a melodious and impressive piece.\n\n\n\"WHEN HE COMETH, WHEN HE COMETH.\"\n\nThe Rev. W.O. Cushing, with the beautiful thought in Malachi 3:17\nsinging in his soul, composed this favorite Sunday-school hymn, which\nhas gone round the world.\n\n When He cometh, when He cometh\n To make up His jewels,\n All the jewels, precious jewels,\n His loved and His own.\n Like the stars of the morning,\n His bright brow adorning\n They shall shine in their beauty\n Bright gems for His crown.\n\n He will gather, He will gather\n The gems for His Kingdom,\n All the pure ones, all the bright ones,\n His loved and His own.\n Like the stars, etc.\n\n Little children, little children\n Who love their Redeemer,\n Are the jewels, precious jewels\n His loved and His own,\n Like the stars, etc.\n\nRev. William Orcutt Cushing of Hingham, Mass., born Dec. 31, 1823, wrote\nthis little hymn when a young man (1856), probably with no idea of\nachieving a literary performance. But it rings; and even if it is a\n\"ringing of changes\" on pretty syllables, that is not all. There is a\nthought in it that _sings_. Its glory came to it, however, when it got\nits tune--and he must have had a subconsciousness of the tune he wanted\nwhen he made the lines for his Sunday-school. He died Oct. 19, 1902.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe composer of the music for the \"Jewel Hymn\"[32] was George F. Root,\nthen living in Reading, Mass.\n\n[Footnote 32: Comparison of the \"Jewel Hymn\" tune with the old glee of\n\"Johnny Schmoker\" gives color to the assertion that Mr. Root caught up\nand adapted a popular ditty for his Christian melody--as was so often\ndone in Wales, and in the Lutheran and Wesleyan reformations. He\nbaptized the comic fugue, and promoted it from the vaudeville stage to\nthe Sunday School.]\n\nA minister returning from Europe on an English steamer visited the\nsteerage, and after some friendly talk proposed a singing service--it\nsomething could be started that \"everybody\" knew--for there were\nhundreds of emigrants there from nearly every part of Europe.\n\n\"It will have to be an American tune, then,\" said the steerage-master;\n\"try 'His jewels.'\"\n\nThe minister struck out at once with the melody and words,--\n\n When He cometh, when He cometh,\n\n--and scores of the poor half-fare multitude joined voices with him.\nMany probably recognized the music of the old glee, and some had heard\nthe sweet air played in the church-steeples at home. Other voices chimed\nin, male and female, catching the air, and sometimes the words--they\nwere so easy and so many times repeated--and the volume of song\nincreased, till the singing minister stood in the midst of an\ninternational concert, the most novel that he ever led.\n\nHe tried other songs in similar visits during the rest of the voyage\nwith some success, but the \"Jewel Hymn\" was the favorite; and by the\ntime port was in sight the whole crowd of emigrants had it by heart.\n\nThe steamer landed at Quebec, and when the trains, filled with the new\narrivals, rolled away, the song was swelling from nearly every car,--\n\n When He cometh, when He cometh,\n To make up His jewels.\n\nThe composer of the tune--with all the patriotic and sacred\nmaster-pieces standing to his credit--never reaped a richer triumph than\nhe shared with his poet-partner that day, when \"Precious Jewels\" came\nback to them from over the sea. More than this, there was missionary joy\nfor them both that their tuneful work had done something to hallow the\nhomes of alien settlers with an American Christian psalm.\n\nGeorge Frederick Root, Doctor of Music, was born in Sheffield, Mass.,\n1820, eldest of a family of eight children, and spent his youth on a\nfarm. His genius for music drew him to Boston, where he became a pupil\nof Lowell Mason, and soon advanced so far as to teach music himself and\nlead the choir in Park St. church. Afterwards he went to New York as\ndirector of music in Dr. Deems's Church of the Strangers. In 1852,\nafter a year's absence and study in Europe, he returned to New York,\nand founded the Normal Musical Institute. In 1860, he removed to Chicago\nwhere he spent the remainder of his life writing and publishing music.\nHe died Aug. 6, 1895, in Maine.\n\nIn the truly popular sense Dr. Root was the best-known American\ncomposer; not excepting Stephen C. Foster. Root's \"Hazel Dell,\" \"There's\nMusic in the Air,\" and \"Rosalie the Prairie Flower\" were universal\ntunes--(words by Fanny Crosby,)--as also his music to Henry Washburn's\n\"Vacant Chair.\" The songs in his cantata, \"The Haymakers,\" were sung in\nthe shops and factories everywhere, and his war-time music, in such\nmelodies as \"Shouting the Battle-cry of Freedom\" and \"Tramp, Tramp,\nTramp, the Boys are Marching\" took the country by storm.\n\n\n\"SCATTER SEEDS OF KINDNESS.\"\n\nThis amiable and tuneful poem, suggested by Rom. 12:10, is from the pen\nof Mary Louise Riley (Mrs. Albert Smith) of New York City. She was born\nin Brighton, Monroe Co., N.Y. May 27, 1843.\n\n Let us gather up the sunbeams\n Lying all along our path;\n Let us keep the wheat and roses\n Casting out the thorns and chaff.\n\n CHORUS.\n Then scatter seeds of kindness (_ter_)\n For our reaping by and by.\n\nSilas Jones Vail, the tune-writer, for this hymn, was born Oct. 1818,\nand died May 20, 1883. For years he worked at the hatter's trade, with\nBeebe on Broadway, N.Y. and afterwards in an establishment of his own.\nHis taste and talent led him into musical connections, and from time to\ntime, after relinquishing his trade, he was with Horace Waters, Philip\nPhillips, W.B. Bradbury, and F.J. Smith, the piano dealer. He was a\nchoir leader and a good composer.\n\n\n\"BY COOL SILOAM'S SHADY RILL.\"\n\nThis hymn of Bp. Heber inculcates the same lesson as that in the stanzas\nof Michael Bruce before noted, with added emphasis for the young on the\nbriefness of time and opportunity even for them.\n\n How fair the lily grows,\n\n--is answered by--\n\n The lily must decay,\n\n--but, owing to the sweetness of the favorite melody, it was never a\nsaddening hymn for children.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThough George Kingsley's \"Heber\" has in some books done service for the\nBishop's lines, \"Siloam,\" easy-flowing and finely harmonized, is knit\nto the words as no other tune can be. It was composed by Isaac Baker\nWoodbury on shipboard during a storm at sea. A stronger illustration of\ntranquil thought in terrible tumult was never drawn.\n\n\"O Galilee, Sweet Galilee,\" whose history has been given at the end of\nchapter six, was not only often sung in Sunday-schools, but chimed (in\nthe cities) on steeple-bells--nor is it by any means forgotten today--on\nthe Sabbath and in social singing assemblies. Like \"Precious Jewels,\" it\nhas been, in many places, taken up by street boys with a relish, and\noften displaced the play-house ditties in the lips of little newsboys\nand bootblacks during a leisure hour or a happy mood.\n\n\n\"I AM SO GLAD\"\n\nThis lively little melody is still a welcome choice to many a lady\nteacher of fluttering five-year-olds, when both vocal indulgence and\ngood gospel are needed for the prattlers in her class. It has been as\nwidely sung in Scotland as in America. Mr. Philip P. Bliss, hearing one\nday the words of the familiar chorus--\n\n O, how I love Jesus,\n\n--suddenly thought to himself,--\n\n\"I have sung long enough of my poor love to Christ, and now I will sing\nof His love for me.\" Under the inspiration of this thought, he wrote--\n\n I am so glad that our Father in heaven\n Tells of His love in the book He has given\n Wonderful things in the Bible I see,\n This is the dearest--that Jesus loves me.\n\nBoth words and music are by Mr. Bliss.\n\nThe history of modern Sunday-school hymnody--or much of it--is so nearly\nidentified with that of the _Gospel Hymns_ that other selections like\nthe last, which might be appropriate here, may be considered in a later\nchapter, where that eventful series of sacred songs receives special\nnotice.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nPATRIOTIC HYMNS.\n\n\nThe ethnic anthologies growing out of love of country are a mingled\nliterature of filial and religious piety, ranging from war-like paeans to\nlyric prayers. They become the cherished inheritance of a nation, and,\nonce fixed in the common memory and common heart, the people rarely let\nthem die. The \"Songs of the Fathers\" have perennial breath, and in every\ngeneration--\n\n The green woods of their native land\n Shall whisper in the strain;\n The voices of their household band\n Shall sweetly speak again.\n --_Felicia Hemans_.\n\n\nULTIMA THULE.\n\nAmerican pride has often gloried in Seneca's \"Vision of the West,\" more\nthan eighteen hundred years ago.\n\n Venient annis\n Saecula seris, quibus Oceanus\n Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens\n Pateat tellus, Typhisque novos\n Detegat orbes, nec sit terris\n Ultima Thule.\n\n A time will come in future ages far\n When Ocean will his circling bounds unbar.\n And, opening vaster to the Pilot's hand,\n New worlds shall rise, where mightier kingdoms are,\n Nor Thule longer be the utmost land.\n\nThis poetic forecast, of which Washington Irving wrote \"the predictions\nof the ancient oracles were rarely so unequivocal,\" is part of the\n\"chorus\" at the end of the second act of Seneca's \"Medea,\" written near\nthe date of St. Paul's first Epistle to the Thessalonians.\n\nSeneca, the celebrated Roman (Stoic) philosopher, was born at or very\nnear the time of our Saviour's birth. There are legends of his\nacquaintance with Paul, at Rome, but though he wrote able and quotable\ntreatises _On Consolation_, _On Providence_, _On Calmness of Soul_, and\n_On the Blessed Life_, there is no direct evidence that the savor of\nChristian faith ever qualified his works or his personal principles. He\nwas a man of grand ideas and inspirations, but he was a time server and\na flatterer of the Emperor Nero, who, nevertheless, caused his death\nwhen he had no further use for him.\n\nHis compulsory suicide occurred A.D. 65, the year in which St. Paul is\nsupposed to have suffered martyrdom.\n\n\n\"THE BREAKING WAVES DASHED HIGH.\"\n\nSitting at the tea-table one evening, near a century ago, Mrs. Hemans\nread an old account of the \"Landing of the Pilgrims,\" and was inspired\nto write this poem, which became a favorite in America--like herself,\nand all her other works.\n\nThe ballad is inaccurate in details, but presents the spirit of the\nscene with true poet insight. Mr. James T. Fields, the noted Boston\npublisher, visited the lady in her old age, and received an autograph\ncopy of the poem, which is seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.\n\n The breaking waves dashed high, on a stern and rock-bound coast,\n And the woods against a stormy sky, their giant branches tossed,\n And the heavy night hung dark, the hills and waters o'er,\n When a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild New England\n shore.\n\n Not as the conqueror comes, they, the true-hearted, came;\n Not with the roll of stirring drums, and the trumpet that sings\n of fame;\n Not as the flying come, in silence and in fear,--\n _They_ shook the depths of the desert's gloom with their hymns of\n lofty cheer.\n\n Amidst the storm they sang, and the stars heard, and the sea!\n And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang to the anthem of the\n free!\n The ocean eagle soared from his nest by the white waves' foam,\n And the rocking pines of the forest roared,--this was their welcome\n home!\n\n There were men with hoary hair amidst that pilgrim band,--\n Why had _they_ come to wither there, away from their childhood's\n land?\n There was woman's fearless eye, lit by her deep love's truth;\n There was manhood's brow, serenely high, and the fiery heart of\n youth.\n\n What sought they thus afar? bright jewels of the mine?\n The wealth of seas? the spoils of war?--They sought a faith's pure\n shrine!\n Ay, call it holy ground, the soil where first they trod;\n They left unstained what there they found,--freedom to worship God!\n\nFelicia Dorothea Browne (Mrs. Hemans) was born in Liverpool, Eng., 1766,\nand died 1845.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe original tune is not now accessible. It was composed by Mrs. Mary E.\n(Browne) Arkwright, Mrs. Hemans' sister, and published in England about\n1835. But the words have been sung in this country to \"Silver St.,\" a\nchoral not entirely forgotten, credited to an English composer, Isaac\nSmith, born, in London, about 1735, and died there in 1800.\n\n\n\"WESTWARD THE COURSE OF EMPIRE.\"\n\nUsually misquoted \"Westward the _Star_ of Empire,\" etc. This poem of\nBishop Berkeley possesses no lyrical quality but, like the ancient\nRoman's words, partakes of the prophetic spirit, and has always been\ndear to the American heart by reason of the above line. It seems to\nformulate the \"manifest destiny\" of a great colonizing race that has\nalready absorbed a continent, and extended its sway across the Pacific\nocean.\n\n Not such as Europe breeds in her decay;\n Such as she bred when fresh and young,\n When heavenly flame did animate her clay,\n By future poets shall be sung.\n\n Westward the course of empire takes its way;\n The four first acts already past,\n The fifth shall close the drama of the day:\n Time's noblest offspring is the last.\n\nGeorge Berkeley was born March 12, 1684, and educated at Trinity\nCollege, Dublin. A remarkable student, he became a remarkable man, as\npriest, prelate, and philosopher. High honors awaited him at home, but\nthe missionary passion seized him. Inheriting a small fortune, he sailed\nto the West, intending to evangelize and educate the Indians of the\n\"Summer Islands,\" but the ship lost her course, and landed him at\nNewport, R.I., instead of the Bermudas. Here he was warmly welcomed, but\nwas disappointed in his plans and hopes of founding a native college by\nthe failure of friends in England to forward funds, and after a\nresidence of six years he returned home. He died at Cloyne, Ireland,\n1753.\n\nThe house which Bishop Berkeley built is still shown (or was until very\nrecently) at Newport after one hundred and seventy-eight years. He wrote\nthe _Principles of Human Knowledge_, the _Minute Philosopher_, and many\nother works of celebrity in their time, and a scholarship in Yale bears\nhis name; but he is best loved in this country for his _Ode to America_.\n\nPope in his list of great men ascribes--\n\n To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.\n\n\n\"SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.\"\n\nOne would scarcely guess that this bravura hymn of victory and \"Come, ye\ndisconsolate,\" were written by the same person, but both are by Thomas\nMoore. The song has all the vigor and vivacity of his \"Harp That Once\nThrough Tara's Halls,\" without its pathos. The Irish poet chose the song\nof Miriam instead of the song of Deborah doubtless because the sentiment\nand strain of the first of these two great female patriots lent\nthemselves more musically to his lyric verse--and his poem is certainly\nmartial enough to convey the spirit of both.\n\n Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!\n Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free!\n Sing, for the pride of the tyrant is broken;\n His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave--\n How vain was their boasting, the Lord hath but spoken,\n And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOf all the different composers to whose music Moore's \"sacred songs\"\nwere sung--Beethoven, Mozart, Stevenson, and the rest--Avison seems to\nbe the only one whose name and tune have clung to the poet's words; and\nwe have the man and the melody sent to us, as it were, by the lyrist\nhimself. The tune is now rarely sung except at church festivals and\nvillage entertainments, but the life and clamor of the scene at the Red\nSea are in it, and it is something more than a mere musical curiosity.\nIts style, however, is antiquated--with its timbrel beat and its\ncanorous harmony and \"coda fortis\"--and modern choirs have little use in\nreligious service for the sonata written for viols and horns.\n\nIt was Moore's splendid hymn that gave it vogue in England and Ireland,\nand sent it across the sea to find itself in the house of its friends\nwith the psalmody of Billings and Swan. Moore was the man of all men to\ntake a fancy to it and make language to its string-and-trumpet concert.\nHe was a musician himself, and equally able to adapt a tune and to\ncreate one. As a festival performance, replete with patriotic noise, let\nAvison's old \"Sound the Timbrel\" live.\n\nCharles Avison was born at Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1710. He studied in Italy,\nwrote works on music, and composed sonatas and concertos for stringed\norchestras. For many years he was organist of St. Nicholas' Kirk in his\nnative town.\n\nThe tune to \"Sound the Loud Timbrel\" is a chorus from one of his longer\ncompositions. He died in 1770.\n\n\n\"THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS.\"\n\nThis is the only one of Moore's patriotic \"Irish Melodies\" that lives\nwherever sweet tones are loved and poetic feeling finds answering\nhearts. The exquisite sadness of its music and its text is strangely\ncaptivating, and its untold story beckons from its lines.\n\nTara was the ancient home of the Irish kings. King Dermid, who had\napostatized from the faith of St. Patrick and his followers, in A.D.,\n554, violated the Christian right of sanctuary by taking an escaped\nprisoner from the altar of refuge in Temple Ruadan (Tipperary) and\nputting him to death. The patron priest and his clergy marched to Tara\nand solemnly pronounced a curse upon the King. Not long afterwards\nDermid was assassinated, and superstition shunned the place \"as a castle\nunder ban.\" The last human resident of \"Tara's Hall\" was the King's\nbard, who lingered there, forsaken and ostracized, till he starved to\ndeath. Years later one daring visitor found his skeleton and his broken\nharp.\n\nMoore utilized this story of tragic pathos as a figure in his song for\n\"fallen Erin\" lamenting her lost royalty--under a curse that had lasted\nthirteen hundred years.\n\n The harp that once through Tara's halls\n The soul of music shed,\n Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls\n As if that soul were fled.\n\n So sleeps the pride of former days,\n So glory's thrill is o'er,\n And hearts that once beat high for praise\n Now feel that pulse no more.\n\nNo one can read the words without \"thinking\" the tune. It is supposed\nthat Moore composed them both.\n\n\nTHE MARSEILLAISE HYMN.\n\n Ye sons of France, awake to glory!\n Hark! hark! what millions bid you rise!\n\nThe \"Marseillaise Hymn\" so long supposed to be the musical as well as\nverbal composition of Roget de Lisle, an army engineer, was proved to be\nonly his words set to an air in the \"Credo\" of a German mass, which was\nthe work of one Holzman in 1726. De Lisle was known to be a poet and\nmusician as well as a soldier, and, as he is said to have played or sung\nat times in the churches and convents, it is probable that he found and\ncopied the manuscript of Holzman's melody. His haste to rush his fiery\n\"Hymn\" before the public in the fever of the Revolution allowed him no\ntime to make his own music, and he adapted the German's notes to his\nwords and launched the song in the streets of Strasburg. It was first\nsung in Paris by a band of chanters from Marseilles, and, like the\ntrumpets blown around Jericho, it shattered the walls of the French\nmonarchy to their foundations.\n\nThe \"Marseillaise Hymn\" is mentioned here for its patriotic birth and\nassociations. An attempt to make a religious use of it is recorded in\nthe Fourth Chapter.\n\n\nODE ON SCIENCE.\n\nThis is a \"patriotic hymn,\" though a queer production with a queer name,\nconsidering its contents; and its author was no intimate of the Muses.\nLiberty is supposed to be somehow the corollary of learning, or vice\nversa--whichever the reader thinks.\n\n The morning sun shines from the East\n And spreads his glories to the West.\n\n * * * * *\n\n So Science spreads her lucid ray\n O'er lands that long in darkness lay;\n She visits fair Columbia,\n And sets her sons among the stars.\n Fair Freedom, her attendant, waits, etc.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nWas the really notable part of this old-time \"Ode,\" the favorite of\nvillage assemblies, and the inevitable practice-piece for amateur\nviolinists. The author of the crude symphony was Deacon Janaziah (or\nJazariah) Summer, of Taunton, Mass., who prepared it--music and probably\nwords--for the semi-centennial of Simeon Dagget's Academy in 1798. The\n\"Ode\" was subsequently published in Philadelphia, and also in Albany. It\nwas a song of the people, and sang itself through the country for fifty\nor sixty years, always culminating in the swift crescendo chorus and\nrepeat--\n\n The British yoke and Gallic chain\n Were urged upon our necks in vain;\n All haughty tyrants we disdain,\n And shout \"Long live America!\"\n\nThe average patriot did not mind it if \"Columbi-_ay_\" and \"Ameri-_kay_\"\nwere not exactly classic orthoepy.\n\n\n\"HAIL COLUMBIA.\"\n\nThis was written (1798) by Judge Joseph Hopkinson, born, in\nPhiladelphia, 1770, and died there, 1843. He wrote it for a friend in\nthat city who was a theatre singer, and wanted a song for Independence\nDay. The music (to which it is still sung) was \"The President's March,\"\nby a composer named Fyles, near the end of the 18th century.\n\nThere is nothing hymn-like in the words, which are largely a\nglorification of Gen. Washington, but the tune, a concerted piece better\nfor band than voices, has the drum-and-anvil chorus quality suitable for\nvociferous mass singing--and a zealous Salvation Army corps on field\nnights could even fit a processional song to it with gospel words.\n\n\nOLD \"CHESTER.\"\n\n Let tyrants shake their iron rod,\n And slavery clank her galling chains:\n We'll fear them not; we trust in God;\n New England's God forever reigns.\n\nOld \"Chester,\" both words and tune the work of William Billings, is\nanother of the provincial freedom songs of the Revolutionary period, and\nof the days when the Republic was young. Billings was a zealous patriot,\nand (says a writer in Moore's _Cyclopedia of Music_) \"one secret, no\ndoubt, of the vast popularity his works obtained was the patriotic ardor\nthey breathed. The words above quoted are an example, and 'Chester,' it\nis said, was frequently heard from every fife in the New England ranks.\nThe spirit of the Revolution was also manifest in his 'Lamentation over\nBoston,' his 'Retrospect,' his 'Independence,' his 'Columbia,' and many\nother pieces.\"\n\nWilliam Billings was born, in Boston, Oct. 7, 1746. He was a man of\nlittle education, but his genius for music spurred him to study the\ntuneful art, and enabled him to learn all that could be learned without\na master. He began to make tunes and publish them, and his first book,\nthe _New England Psalm-singer_ was a curiosity of youthful crudity and\nconfidence, but in considerable numbers it was sold, and sung--and\nlaughed at. He went on studying and composing, and compiled another\nwork, which was so much of an improvement that it got the name of\n_Billings' Best_. A third singing-book followed, and finally a fourth\nentitled the _Psalm Singer's Amusement_, both of which were popular in\ntheir day. His \"Majesty\" has tremendous capabilities of sound, and its\nmovement is fully up to the requirements of Nahum Tate's verses,--\n\n And on the wings of mighty winds\n Came flying all abroad.\n\nWilliam Billings died in 1800, and his remains lie in an unmarked grave\nin the old \"Granary\" Burying Ground in the city of his birth.\n\nNational feeling has taken maturer speech and finer melody, but it was\nthese ruder voices that set the pitch. They were sung with native pride\nand affection at fireside vespers and rural feasts with the adopted\nsongs of Burns and Moore and Mrs. Hemans, and, like the lays of Scotland\nand Provence, they breathed the flavor of the country air and soil, and\ntaught the generation of home-born minstrelsy that gave us the\nHutchinson family, Ossian E. Dodge, Covert with his \"Sword of Bunker\nHill,\" and Philip Phillips, the \"Singing Pilgrim.\"\n\n\nTHE STAR SPANGLED BANNER.\n\nNear the close of the last war with England, Francis Scott Key, of\nBaltimore, the author of this splendid national hymn, was detained under\nguard on the British flag-ship at the mouth of the Petapsco, where he\nhad gone under a flag of truce to procure the release of a captured\nfriend, Dr. William Beanes of Upper Marlboro, Md.\n\nThe enemy's fleet was preparing to bombard Fort McHenry, and Mr. Key's\nreturn with his friend was forbidden lest their plans should be\ndisclosed. Forced to stay and witness the attack on his country's flag,\nhe walked the deck through the whole night of the bombardment until the\nbreak of day showed the brave standard still flying at full mast over\nthe fort. Relieved of his patriotic anxiety, he pencilled the exultant\nlines and chorus of his song on the back of a letter, and, as soon as he\nwas released, carried it to the city, where within twenty-four hours it\nwas printed on flyers, circulated and sung in the streets to the air of\n\"Anacreon in Heaven\"--which has been the \"Star Spangled Banner\" tune\never since.\n\n O say, can you see by the dawn's early light\n What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?\n Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight\n O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming,\n And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air\n Gave proof through the night that the flag was still there:\n O say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave,\n O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?\n\n * * * * *\n\n O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand,\n Between their loved homes and the war's desolation;\n Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land\n Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.\n Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,\n And this be our motto, \"_In God is our trust_.\"\n And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave,\n O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.\n\nThe original star-spangled banner that waved over Fort McHenry in sight\nof the poet when he wrote the famous hymn was made and presented to the\ngarrison by a girl of fifteen, afterwards Mrs. Sanderson, and is\nstill preserved in the Sanderson family at Baltimore.\n\n[Illustration: Samuel F. Smith]\n\nThe additional stanza to the \"Star-Spangled Banner\"--\n\n When our land is illumined with Liberty's smile, etc.,\n\n--was composed by Dr. O.W. Holmes, in 1861.\n\nThe tune \"Anacreon in Heaven\" was an old English hunting air composed by\nJohn Stafford Smith, born at Gloucester, Eng. 1750. He was composer for\nCovent Garden Theater, and conductor of the Academy of Ancient Music.\nDied Sep. 20, 1836. The melody was first used in America to Robert Treat\nPaine's song, \"Adams and Liberty.\" Paine, born 1778--died 1811, was the\nson of Robert Treat Paine, signer of the Declaration of Independence.\n\n\n\"STAND! THE GROUND'S YOUR OWN, MY BRAVES.\"\n\nSympathetic admiration for the air, \"Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,\"\n(or \"Bruce's address,\" as it was commonly called), with the syllables of\nRobert Burns' silvery verse, lingered long in the land after the wars\nwere ended. It spoke in the poem of John Pierpont, who caught its\npibroch thrill, and built the metre of \"Warren's Address at the Battle\nof Bunker Hill\" on the model of \"Scots wha hae.\"\n\n Stand! the ground's your own, my braves;\n Will ye give it up to slaves?\n Will ye look for greener graves?\n\n * * * * *\n\n In the God of battles trust:\n Die we may, or die we must,\n But O where can dust to dust\n Be consigned so well,\n\n As where Heaven its dews shall shed,\n On the martyred patriot's bed,\n And the rocks shall raise their head\n Of his deeds to tell?\n\nThis poem, written about 1823, held a place many years in school-books,\nand was one of the favorite school-boy declamations. Whenever sung on\npatriotic occasions, the music was sure to be \"Bruce's Address.\" That\ntypical Scotch tune was played on the Highland bag-pipes long before\nBurns was born, and known as \"Hey tuttie taite.\" \"Heard on Fraser's\nhautboy, it used to fill my eyes with tears,\" Burns himself once wrote.\n\nRev. John Pierpont was born in Litchfield, Ct., April 6, 1785. He was\ngraduated at Yale, 1804, taught school, studied law, engaged in trade,\nand finally took a course in theology and became a Unitarian minister,\nholding the pastorate of Hollis St. Church, Boston, thirty-six years. He\ntravelled in the East, and wrote \"Airs of Palestine.\" His poem, \"The\nYankee Boy,\" has been much quoted. Died in Medford, Mass., Aug. 26,\n1866.\n\n\n\"MY COUNTRY, 'TIS OF THEE.\"\n\nThis simple lyric, honored so long with the name \"America,\" and the\ntitle \"Our National Hymn,\" was written by Samuel Francis Smith, while a\ntheological student at Andover, Feb. 2, 1832. He had before him several\nhymn and song tunes which Lowell Mason had received from Germany, and,\nknowing young Smith to be a good linguist, had sent to him for\ntranslation. One of the songs, of national character, struck Smith as\nadaptable to home use if turned into American words, and he wrote four\nstanzas of his own to fit the tune.\n\nMason printed them with the music, and under his magical management the\nhymn made its debut on a public occasion in Park St. Church, Boston,\nJuly 4, 1832. Its very simplicity, with its reverent spirit and\neasy-flowing language, was sure to catch the ear of the multitude and\ngrow into familiar use with any suitable music, but it was the foreign\ntune that, under Mason's happy pilotage, winged it for the western world\nand launched it on its long flight.\n\n My country, 'tis of thee,\n Sweet land of liberty,\n Of thee I sing;\n Land where my fathers died,\n Land of the pilgrims' pride,\n From every mountain-side\n Let freedom ring.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Let music swell the breeze,\n And ring from all the trees\n Sweet Freedom's song;\n Let mortal tongues awake,\n Let all that breathe partake,\n Let rocks their silence break,\n The sound prolong.\n\n Our fathers' God, to Thee,\n Author of liberty,\n To Thee we sing;\n Long may our land be bright\n With Freedom's holy light;\n Protect us by Thy might,\n Great God, our King.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nPages, and at least two volumes, have been written to prove the origin\nof that cosmopolitan, half-Gregorian descant known here as \"America,\"\nand in England as \"God Save the King.\" William C. Woodbridge of Boston\nbrought it home with him from Germany. The Germans had been singing it\nfor years (and are singing it now, more or less) to the words, \"Heil Dir\nIm Siegel Kranz,\" and the Swiss to \"Rufst Du mein Vaterland.\" It was\nsung in Sweden, also, and till 1833 it was in public use in Russia\ncommonly enough to give it a national character. Von Weber introduced it\nin his \"Jubel\" overture, and Beethoven, in 1814, copied it in C Major\nand wrote piano variations on it. It has been ascribed to Henry Purcell\n(1696), to Lulli, a French composer (1670), to Dr. John Bull (1619), and\nto Thomas Ravenscroft and an old Scotch carol as old as 1609. One might\nfancy that the biography of the famous air resembled Melchizedek's.\n\nThe truth appears to be that certain bars of music which might easily\nhappen to be similar, or even identical, when plain-song was the common\nstyle, were produced at different times and places, and one man finally\nharmonized the wandering strains into a complete tune. It is now\ngenerally conceded that the man was Henry Carey, a popular English\ncomposer and dramatist of the first half of the 18th century, who sang\nthe melody as it now is, in 1740, at a public dinner given in honor of\nAdmiral Vernon after his capture of Porto Bello (Brazil). This antedates\nany authenticated use of the tune _ipsissima forma_ in England or\ncontinental Europe.\n\nThe American history of it simply is that Woodbridge gave it to Mason\nand Mason gave it to Smith--and Smith gave it \"My Country 'Tis of Thee.\"\n\n\n\"BY THE RUDE BRIDGE.\"\n\nThis genuinely American poem, written by Ralph Waldo Emerson and called\nusually the \"Concord Hymn,\" was prepared for the dedication of the\nBattle-monument in Concord, April 19, 1836, and sung there to the tune\nof \"Old Hundred.\" Apparently no change has been made in the original\nexcept of a single word in the first line.\n\n By the rude bridge that arched the flood,\n Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,\n Here once the embattled farmers stood,\n And fired the shot heard round the world.\n\n The foe long since in silence slept;\n Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;\n And Time the ruined bridge has swept\n Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.\n\n On this green bank, by this soft stream,\n We set today a votive stone;\n That memory may their deed redeem,\n When, like our sires, our sons are gone.\n\n Spirit, that made those heroes dare\n To die, and leave their children free,\n Bid Time and Nature gently spare\n The shaft we raise to them and Thee.\n\nThis does not appear in the hymnals and owns no special tune. Its niche\nof honor is in the temple of anthology, but it will always be called the\n\"Concord Hymn\"--and the fourth line of its first stanza is a perennial\nquotation.\n\nRalph Waldo Emerson, LL.D., the renowned American essayist and poet, was\nborn in Boston, 1803. He graduated at Harvard in 1821, and was ordained\nto the Unitarian ministry, but turned his attention to literature,\nwriting and lecturing on ethical and philosophical themes, and winning\nuniversal fame by his original and suggestive prose and verse. He died\nApril 27, 1882.\n\n\nBATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC.\n\nAfter a visit to the Federal camps on the Potomac in 1861, Mrs. Julia\nWard Howe returned to her lodgings in Washington, fatigued, as she says,\nby her \"long, cold drive,\" and slept soundly. Awakening at early\ndaybreak, she began \"to twine the long lines of a hymn which promised to\nsuit the measure of the 'John Brown' melody.\"\n\nThis hymn was written out after a fashion in the dark, by Mrs. Howe, and\nshe then went back to sleep.\n\n Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;\n He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;\n He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;\n His truth is marching on.\n\n I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,\n They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;\n I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;\n His day is marching on.\n\n I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;\n \"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;\"\n Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,\n Since God is marching on.\n\n He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;\n He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;\n Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant my feet!\n Our God is marching on.\n\n In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,\n With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;\n As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.\n While God is marching on.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music of the old camp-meeting refrain,--\n\n Say, brothers will you meet us?\n\n--or,--\n\n O brother, will you meet me,\n\n(No. 173 in the _Revivalist_,) was written in 1855, by John William\nSteffe, of Richmond, Va., for a fire company, and was afterwards\narranged by Franklin H. Lummis. The air of the \"John Brown Song\" was\ncaught from this religious melody. The old hymn-tune had the \"Glory,\nHallelujah\" coda, cadenced off with, \"For ever, ever more.\"\n\nIn 1860-61 the garrison of soldiers at work on the half-dismantled\ndefenses of Fort Warren in Boston Harbor, were fain to lighten labor and\nmock fatigue with any species of fun suggested by circumstances or\naccident, and, as for music, they sang everything they could remember or\nmake up. John Brown's memory and fate were fresh in the Northern mind,\nand the jollity of the not very reverent army men did not exclude\nfrequent allusions to the rash old Harper's Ferry hero.\n\nA wag conjured his spirit into the camp with a witticism as to what he\nwas doing, and a comrade retorted,\n\n\"Marchin' on, of course.\"\n\nA third cried, \"Pooh, John Brown's underground.\"\n\nA serio-comic debate added more words, and in the midst of the banter, a\nmusical fellow strung a rhythmic sentence and trolled it to the\nMethodist tune. \"John Brown's body lies a mould'rin' in the ground\" was\ntaken up by others who knew the air, the following line was improvised\nalmost instantly, and soon, to the accompaniment of pick, shovel and\ncrowbar,--\n\n His soul goes marching on,\n\n--rounded the couplet with full lung power through all the repetitions,\ntill the inevitable \"glory, glory hallelujah\" had the voice of every\nsoldier in the fort. The song \"took,\" and the marching chorus of the\nFederal armies of the Civil War was started on its way. Mrs. Howe gave\nit a poem that made its rusticity sublime, and the \"Battle Hymn of the\nRepublic\" began a career that promises to run till battle hymns cease to\nbe sung.\n\nJulia Ward was born in New York city, May 27, 1819. In 1843 she became\nthe wife of Samuel Gridley Howe, the far-famed philanthropist and\nchampion of liberty, and with him edited an anti-slavery paper, the\n_Boston Commonwealth_, until the Civil War closed its mission. During\nthe war she was active and influential--and has never ceased to be\nso--in the cause of peace and justice, and in every philanthropic\nmovement. Her great hymn first brought her prominently before the\npublic, but her many other writings would have made a literary\nreputation. Her four surviving children are all eminent in the\nscientific and literary world.\n\n\nKELLER'S AMERICAN HYMN.\n\nNaturally the title suggests the authorship of the ode, but fate made\nKeller a musician rather than a poet and hymnist, and the honors of the\nfine anthem are divided. At the grand performance which created its\nreputation, the hymn of Dr. O.W. Holmes was substituted for the\ncomposer's words. This is Keller's first stanza:\n\n Speed our republic, O Father on high!\n Lead us in pathways of justice and right,\n Rulers, as well as the ruled, one and all,\n Girdle with virtue the armor of might.\n Hail! three times hail, to our country and flag!\n Rulers, as well as the ruled, one and all,\n Girdle with virtue the armor of might;\n Hail! three times hail, to our country and flag!\n\n\"Flag\" was the unhappy word at the end of every one of the four stanzas.\nTo match a short vowel to an orotund concert note for two beats and a\n\"hold\" was impossible. When the great Peace Jubilee of 1872, in Boston,\nwas projected, Dr. Holmes was applied to, and responded with a lyric\nthat gave each stanza the rondeau effect designed by the composer, but\nreplaced the flat final with a climax syllable of breadth and music:\n\n Angel of Peace, thou hast wandered too long!\n Spread thy white wings to the sunshine of love!\n Come while our voices are blended in song,\n Fly to our ark like the storm-beaten dove!\n Fly to our ark on the wings of the dove,\n Speed o'er the far-sounding billows of song,\n Crown'd with thine olive-leaf garland of love,\n Angel of Peace, thou hast waited too long!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Angels of Bethlehem, answer the strain!\n Hark! a new birth-song is filling the sky!\n Loud as the storm-wind that tumbles the main,\n Bid the full breath of the organ reply,\n Let the loud tempest of voices reply,\n Roll its long surge like the earth-shaking main!\n Swell the vast song till it mounts to the sky!\n Angels of Bethlehem, echo the strain!\n\nBut the glory of the _tune_ was Keller's own.\n\nSoon after the close of the war a prize of $500 had been offered by a\ncommittee of American gentlemen for the best \"national hymn\" (meaning\nwords and music). Mr. Keller, though a foreigner, was a naturalized\ncitizen and patriot and entered the lists as a competitor with the zeal\nof a native and the ambition of an artist. Sometime in 1866 he finished\nand copyrighted the noble anthem that bears his name, and then began the\nstruggle to get it before the public and test its merit. To enable him\nto bring it out before the New York Academy of Music, where\n(unfortunately) he determined to make his first trial, his brother\nkindly lent him four hundred dollars (which he had laid by to purchase a\nlittle home), and he borrowed two hundred more elsewhere.\n\nThe performance proved a failure, the total receipts being only\nforty-two dollars, Keller was $500 in debt, and his brother's\nhouse-money was gone. But he refused to accept his failure as final.\nBoston (where he should have begun) was introduced to his masterpiece at\nevery opportunity, and gradually, with the help of the city bands and a\nfew public concerts, a decided liking for it was worked up. It was\nentered on the program of the Peace Jubilee and sung by a chorus of ten\nthousand voices. The effect was magnificent. \"Keller's American Hymn\"\nbecame a recognized star number in the repertoire of \"best\" national\ntunes; and now few public occasions where patriotic music is demanded\nomit it in their menu of song.[33]\n\n[Footnote 33: In Butterworth's \"_Story of the Tunes_,\" under the account\nof Keller's grand motet, the following sacred hymn is inserted as \"often\nsung to it:\"--\n\n Father Almighty, we bow at thy feet;\n Humbly thy grace and thy goodness we own.\n Answer in love when thy children entreat,\n Hear our thanksgiving ascend to thy throne.\n Seeking thy blessing, in worship we meet,\n Trusting our souls on thy mercy alone;\n Father Almighty, we bow at thy feet.\n\n Breathe, Holy Spirit, thy comfort divine,\n Tune every voice to thy music of peace;\n Hushed in our hearts, with one whisper of thine,\n Pride and the tumult of passion will cease.\n Joy of the watchful, who wait for thy sign,\n Hope of the sinful, who long for release,\n Breathe, Holy Spirit, thy comfort divine.\n\n God of salvation, thy glory we sing,\n Honors to thee in thy temple belong;\n Welcome the tribute of gladness we bring,\n Loud-pealing organ and chorus of song.\n While our high praises, Redeemer and King,\n Blend with the notes of the angelic throng,\n God of salvation, thy glory we sing.\n --_Theron Brown_.]\n\nIt is pathetic to know that the composer's one great success brought him\nonly a barren renown. The prize committee, on the ground that _none_ of\nthe competing pieces reached the high standard of excellence\ncontemplated, withheld the $500, and Keller's work received merely the\ncompliment of being judged worth presentation. The artist had his\ncopyright, but he remained a poor man.\n\nMatthias Keller was born at Ulm, Wurtemberg, March 20, 1813. In his\nyouth he was both a musician and a painter. Coming to this country, he\nchose the calling that promised the better and quicker wages, playing in\nbands and theatre orchestras, but never accumulating money. He could\nmake fine harmonies as well as play them, but English was not his\nmother-tongue, and though he wrote a hundred and fifty songs, only one\nmade him well-known. When fame came to him it did not bring him wealth,\nand in his latter days, crippled by partial paralysis, he went back to\nhis early art and earned a living by painting flowers and retouching\nportraits and landscapes. He died in 1875, only three years after his\nColiseum triumph.\n\n\n\"GOD BLESS OUR NATIVE LAND.\"\n\nThis familiar patriotic hymn is notable--though not entirely\nsingular--for having two authors. The older singing-books signed the\nname of J.S. Dwight to it, until inquiring correspondence brought out\nthe testimony and the joint claim of Dwight and C.T. Brooks, and it\nappeared that both these scholars and writers translated it from the\nGerman. Later hymnals attach both their names to the hymn.[34]\n\n[Footnote 34: For a full account of this disputed hymn, and the curious\ntrick of memory which confused _four_ names in the question of its\nauthorship, see Dr. Benson's _Studies of Familiar Hymns_, pp. 179-190]\n\nJohn Sullivan Dwight, born, in Boston, May 13, 1813, was a virtuoso in\nmusic, and an enthusiastic student of the art and science of tonal\nharmony. He joined a Harvard musical club known as \"The Pierian\nSodality\" while a student at the University, and after his graduation\nbecame a prolific writer on musical subjects. Six years of his life were\npassed in the \"Brook Farm Community.\" He was best known by his serial\nmagazine, Dwight's _Journal of Music_, which was continued from 1852 to\n1881. His death occurred in 1893.\n\nRev. Charles Timothy Brooks, the translator of Faust, was born, in\nSalem, Mass., June 20, 1813, being only about a month younger than his\nfriend Dwight. Was a student at Harvard University and Divinity School\n1829-1835, and was ordained to the Unitarian ministry and settled at\nNewport, R.I. He resigned his charge there (1871) on account of ill\nhealth, and occupied himself with literary work until his death, Jan.\n14, 1883.\n\n God bless our native land!\n Firm may she ever stand\n Through storm and night!\n When the wild tempests rave.\n Ruler of wind and wave,\n Do Thou our country save\n By Thy great might!\n\n For her our prayer shall rise\n To God above the skies;\n On Him we wait.\n Thou who art ever nigh,\n Guarding with watchful eye;\n To Thee aloud we cry,\n God save the State!\n\nThe tune of \"Dort,\" by Lowell Mason, has long been the popular melody\nfor this hymn. Indeed the two were united by Mason himself. It is\nbraver music than \"America,\" and would have carried Dr. Smith's hymn\nnobly, but the borrowed tune, on the whole, better suits \"My Country\n'tis of thee,\"--and besides, it has the advantage of a middle-register\nharmony easy for a multitude of voices.\n\n\n\"THOU, TOO, SAIL ON, O SHIP OF STATE,\"\n\nThe closing canto of Longfellow's \"Launching of the Ship,\" almost\ndeserves a patriotic hymn-tune, though its place and use are commonly\nwith school recitations.\n\n\n\"GOD OF OUR FATHERS, KNOWN OF OLD.\"\n\nRudyard Kipling, in a moment of serious reflection on the flamboyant\nmilitarism of British sentiment during the South African War, wrote this\nremarkable \"Recessional,\" so strikingly unlike his other war-time poems.\nIt is to be hoped he did not suddenly repent his Christian impulse, but\nwith the chauvinistic cry around him, \"Our Country, right or wrong!\" he\nseems to have felt the contrast of his prayer--and flung it into the\nwaste-basket. His watchful wife rescued it (the story says) and bravely\nsent it to the London Times. The world owes her a debt. The hymn is not\nonly an anthem for Peace Societies, but a tonic for true patriotism.\nWhen Freedom fights in self-defense, she need not force herself to\n\"forget\" the Lord of Hosts.\n\n God of our fathers, known of old,\n Lord of our far-flung battle-line,\n Beneath whose awful hand we hold\n Dominion over palm and pine;\n Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,\n Lest we forget, lest we forget.\n\n The tumult and the shouting dies,\n The captains and the kings depart,\n Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,\n An humble and a contrite heart.\n Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,\n Lest we forget, lest we forget.\n\n Far-called, our navies melt away,\n On dune and headland sinks the fire;\n Lo all our pomp of yesterday\n Is one with Nineveh and Tyre.\n Judge of the nations, spare us yet,\n Lest we forget, lest we forget.\n\n If, drunk with sight of power, we loose\n Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,\n Such boasting as the Gentiles use\n Or lesser breeds without the law,\n Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,\n Lest we forget, lest we forget.\n\n For heathen heart that puts her trust,\n In recking tube and iron shard,\n All valiant dust that builds on dust\n And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,\n For frantic boast and foolish word\n Thy mercy on thy people, Lord!\n\nHad Kipling cared more for his poem, and kept it longer in hand, he\nmight have revised a line or two that would possibly seem commonplace\nto him--and corrected the grammar in the first line of the second\nstanza. But of so fine a composition there is no call for finical\ncriticism. The \"Recessional\" is a product of the poet's holiest mood.\n\"The Spirit of the Lord came upon him\"--as the old Hebrew phrase is, and\nfor the time he was a rapt prophet, with a backward and a forward\nvision. Providence saved the hymn, and it touched and sank into the\nbetter mind of the nation. It is already learned by heart--and\nsung--wherever English is the common speech, and will be heard in\nnumerous translations, with the wish that there were more patriotic\nhymns of the same Christian temper and strength.\n\nRudyard Kipling was born in Hindostan in 1865. Even with his first\nyouthful experiments in the field of literature he was hailed as the\ncoming apostle of muscular poetry and prose. For a time he made America\nhis home, and it was while here that he faced death through a fearful\nand protracted sickness that brought him very near to God. He has\nvisited many countries and described them all, and, though sometimes his\nimagination drives a reckless pen, the Christian world hopes much from a\nman whose genius can make the dullest souls listen.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music set to Kipling's hymn is Stainer's \"Magdalen\"--(not his\n\"Magdalina,\" which is a common-metre tune)--and wonderfully fits the\nwords and enhances their dignity. It is a grave and earnest melody in D\nflat, with two bars in unison at \"Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,\"\nmaking the utterance of the prayer a deep and powerful finale.\n\nJohn Stainer, Doctor of Music, born June 6, 1840, was nine years the\nchorister of St. Paul's, London, and afterwards organist to the\nUniversity of Oxford. He is a member of the various musical societies of\nthe Kingdom, and a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. His talent for\nsacred music is rare and versatile, and he seems to have consecrated\nhimself as a musician and composer to the service of the church.\n\n * * * * *\n\nEvery civilized nation has its patriotic hymns. In fact what makes a\nnation a nation is largely the unifying influences of its common song.\nEven the homeless Hebrew nation is kept together by its patriotic\nPsalms. The ethnic melodies would fill a volume with their story. The\nfew presented in this chapter represent their range of quality and\ncharacter--defiant as the Marseillaise, thrilling as \"Scots' wha hae,\"\njoyful as \"The Star-spangled Banner,\" breezy and bold as the \"Ranz de\nVaches,\" or sweet as the \"Switzers' Song of Home.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nSAILORS' HYMNS.\n\n\nThe oldest sailors' hymn is found in the 107th Psalm, vss. 23-30:\n\n They that go down to the sea in ships,\n To do business in great waters,\n These see the works of the Lord,\n And His wonders in the deep, etc.\n\nMontgomery has made this metrical rendering of these verses:\n\n They that toil upon the deep,\n And in vessels light and frail\n O'er the mighty waters sweep\n With the billows and the gale,\n\n Mark what wonders God performs\n When He speaks, and, unconfined,\n Rush to battle all His storms\n In the chariots of the wind.\n\nThe hymn is not in the collections, and has no tune. Addison paraphrased\nthe succeeding verses of the Psalm in his hymn, \"How are thy servants\nblessed O Lord,\" sung to Hugh Wilson's[35] tune of \"Avon\":\n\n When by the dreadful tempest borne\n High on the broken wave,\n They know Thou art not slow to hear,\n Nor impotent to save.\n\n The storm is laid, the winds retire,\n Obedient to Thy will;\n The sea that roars at Thy command,\n At Thy command is still.\n\n[Footnote 35: Hugh Wilson was a Scotch weaver of Kilmarnock, born 1764;\ndied 1824.]\n\n\n\"FIERCE WAS THE WILD BILLOW.\"\n\n([Greek: Zopheras trikumias])\n\nThe ancient writer, Anatolius, who composed this hymn has for centuries\nbeen confounded with \"St\" Anatolius, patriarch of Constantinople, who\ndied A.D. 458. The author of the hymn lived in the seventh century, and\nexcept that he wrote several hymns, and also poems in praise of the\nmartyrs, nothing or next to nothing, is known of him. The \"Wild Billow\"\nsong was the principle seaman's hymn of the early church. It is being\nintroduced into modern psalmody, the translation in use ranking among\nthe most successful of Dr. John Mason Neale's renderings from the Greek.\n\n Fierce was the wild billow,\n Dark was the night;\n Oars labored heavily,\n Foam glimmered white;\n Trembled the mariners;\n Peril was nigh;\n Then said the God of God,\n \"Peace! It is I!\"\n\n Ridge of the mountain wave,\n Lower thy crest!\n Wall of Euroclydon,\n Be thou at rest!\n Sorrow can never be,\n Darkness must fly,\n When saith the Light of Light,\n \"Peace! It is I!\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe desire to represent the antiquity of the hymn and the musical style\nof Its age, and on the other hand the wish to utilize it in the\ntune-manuals for Manners' Homes and Seamen's Bethels, makes a difficulty\nfor composers to study--and the task is still open to competition.\nConsidering the peculiar tone that sailors' singing instinctively\ntakes--and has taken doubtless from time immemorial perhaps the\nplaintive melody of \"Neale,\" by J.H. Cornell, comes as near to a vocal\nsuccess as could be hoped. The music is of middle register and less than\noctave range, natural scale, minor, and the triple time lightens a\nlittle the dirge-like harmony while the weird sea-song effect is kept. A\nchorus of singing tars must create uncommon emotion, chanting this\ncoronach of the storm.\n\nJohn Henry Cornell was born in New York city, May 8, 1838, and was for\nmany years organist at St. Paul's Chapel, Trinity Church. He is the\nauthor of numerous educational works on the theory and practice of\nmusic. He composed the above tune in 1872. Died March 1, 1894.\n\n\n\"AVE, MARIS STELLA.\"\n\nOne of the titles which the Roman Catholic world applied to the Mother\nof Jesus, in the Middle Ages, was \"Stella Maris,\" \"Star of the Sea.\"\nColumbus, being a Catholic, sang this hymn, or caused it to be sung,\nevery evening, it is said, during his perilous voyage to an unknown\nland. The marine epithet by which the Virgin Mary is addressed is\nadmirable as a stroke of poetry, and the hymn--of six stanzas--is a\nprayer which, though offered to her as to a divine being, was no doubt\nsincere in the simple sailor hearts of 1492.\n\nThe two following quatrains finish the voyagers' petition, and point it\nwith a doxology--\n\n Vitam praesta puram,\n Iter para tutum,\n Ut videntes Jesum\n Semper collaetemur.\n\n Sit laus Deo Patri,\n Summo Christo decus,\n Spiritui Sancto,\n Tribus honor unus!\n\nA free translation is--\n\n Guide us safe, unspotted\n Through life's long endeavor\n Till with Thee and Jesus\n We rejoice forever.\n\n Praise to God the Father,\n Son and Spirit be;\n One and equal honor\n To the Holy Three.\n\nInasmuch as this ancient hymn did not attain the height of its\npopularity and appear in all the breviaries until the 10th century, its\nassumed age has been doubted, but its reputed author, Venantius\nFortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers, was born about 531, at Treviso, Italy,\nand died about 609. Though a religious teacher, he was a man of romantic\nand convivial instincts--a strange compound of priest, poet and _beau\nchevalier_. Duffield calls him \"the last of the classics and first of\nthe troubadours,\" and states that he was the \"first of the Christian\npoets to begin that worship of the Virgin Mary which rose to a passion\nand sank to an idolatry.\"\n\n\n_TUNES_\n\nTo this ancient rogation poem have been composed by Aiblinger (Johann\nCaspar), Bavarian, (1779-1867,) by Proch (Heinrich), Austrian,\n(1809-1878,) by Tadolini (Giovanni), Italian, (1803-1872,) and by many\nothers. The \"Ave, Maris Stella\" is in constant use in the Romish church,\nand its English translation by Caswall is a favorite hymn in the _Lyra\nCatholica_.\n\n\n\"AVE, SANCTISSIMA!\"\n\nThis beautiful hymn is not introduced here in order of time, but because\nit seems akin to the foregoing, and born of its faith and\ntraditions--though it sounds rather too fine for a sailor song, on ship\nor shore. Like the other, the tuneful prayer is the voice of\nultramontane piety accustomed to deify Mary, and is entitled the\n\"Evening Song to the Virgin.\"\n\n Ave Sanctissima! we lift our souls to Thee\n Ora pro nobis! 'tis nightfall on the sea.\n Watch us while shadows lie\n Far o'er the waters spread;\n Hear the heart's lonely sigh;\n Thine, too, hath bled.\n\n Thou that hast looked on death,\n Aid us when death is near;\n Whisper of heaven to faith;\n Sweet Mother, hear!\n Ora pro nobis! the wave must rock our sleep;\n Ora, Mater, ora! Star of the Deep!\n\nThis was first written in four separate quatrains, \"'Tis nightfall on\nthe sea\" being part of the first instead of the second line, and \"We\nlift our souls,\" etc., was \"Our souls rise to Thee,\" while the\napostrophe at the end read, \"Thou Star of the Deep.\"\n\nThe fact of the modern origin of the hymn does not make it less probable\nthat the earlier one of Fortunatus suggested it. It was written by Mrs.\nHemans, and occurs between the forty-third and forty-fourth stanzas of\nher long poem, \"The Forest Sanctuary.\"\n\nA Spanish Christian who had embraced the Protestant faith fled to\nAmerica (such is the story of the poem) to escape the cruelties of the\nInquisition, and took with him his Catholic wife and his child. During\nthe voyage the wife pined away and died, a martyr to her conjugal\nloyalty and love. The hymn to the Virgin purports to have been her daily\nevening song at sea, plaintively remembered by the broken-hearted\nhusband and father in his forest retreat on the American shore with his\nmotherless boy.\n\nThe music was composed by a sister of Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Hughes, who\nprobably arranged the lines as they now stand in the tune.\n\nThe song, though its words appear in the _Parochial Hymn-book_, seems to\nbe in use rather as parlor music than as a part of the liturgy.\n\n\n\"JESUS, LOVER OF MY SOUL.\"\n\nThe golden quality of this best-known and loved of Charles Wesley's\nhymns is attested by two indorsements that cannot be impeached; its\nperennial life, and the blessings of millions who needed it.\n\n Jesus, Lover of my soul\n Let me to Thy bosom fly,\n While the billows near me roll,\n While the tempest still is high.\n\n Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,\n Till the storm of life is past,\n Safe into the haven guide,\n O receive my soul at last!\n\nWesley is believed to have written it when a young man, and story and\nlegend have been busy with the circumstances of its birth. The most\npoetical account alleges that a dove chased by a hawk dashed through\nhis open window into his bosom, and the inspiration to write the line--\n\n Let me to Thy bosom fly,\n\n--was the genesis of the poem. Another report has it that one day Mr.\nWesley, being pursued by infuriated persecutors at Killalee, County\nDown, Ireland, took refuge in a milk-house on the homestead of the\nIsland Band Farm. When the mob came up the farmer's wife, Mrs. Jane\nLowrie Moore, offered them refreshments and secretly let out the\nfugitive through a window to the back garden, where he concealed himself\nunder a hedge till his enemies went away. When they had gone he had the\nhymn in his mind and partly jotted down. This tale is circumstantial,\nand came through Mrs. Mary E. Hoover, Jane Moore's granddaughter, who\ntold it many years ago to her pastor, Dr. William Laurie of Bellefonte,\nPa. So careful a narrative deserves all the respect due to a family\ntradition. Whether this or still another theory of the incidental cause\nof the wonderful hymn shall have the last word may never be decided nor\nis it important.\n\nThere is \"antecedent probability,\" at least, in the statement that\nWesley wrote the first two stanzas soon after his perilous experience in\na storm at sea during his return voyage from America to England in 1736.\nIn a letter dated Oct. 28 of that year, he describes the storm that\nwashed away a large part of the ship's cargo, strained her seams so\nthat the hardest pumping could not keep pace with the inrushing water,\nand finally forced the captain to cut the mizzen-mast away. Young Wesley\nwas ill and sorely alarmed, but knew, he says, that he \"abode under the\nshadow of the Almighty,\" and finally, \"in this dreadful moment,\" he was\nable to encourage his fellow-passengers who were \"in an agony of fear,\"\nand to pray with and for them.\n\nIt was his awful hazard and bare escape in that tempest that prompted\nthe following stanzas--\n\n O Thou who didst prepare\n The ocean's caverned cell,\n And teach the gathering waters there\n To meet and dwell;\n Toss'd in our reeling bark\n Upon this briny sea,\n Thy wondrous ways, O Lord, we mark,\n And sing to Thee.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Borne on the dark'ning wave,\n In measured sweep we go,\n Nor dread th' unfathomable grave,\n Which yawns below;\n For He is nigh who trod\n Amid the foaming spray,\n Whose billows own'd th' Incarnate God,\n And died away.\n\nAnd naturally the memory of his almost shipwreck on the wild Atlantic\ncolored more or less the visions of his muse, and influenced the\nmetaphors of his verse for years.\n\nThe popularity of \"Jesus, Lover of my Soul\" not only procured it, at\nhome, the name of \"England's song of the sea,\" but carried it with \"the\ncourse of Empire\" to the West, where it has reigned with \"Rock of Ages,\"\nfor more than a hundred and fifty years, joint primate of inspired human\nsongs.\n\nCompiled incidents of its heavenly service would fill a chapter. A\nvenerable minister tells of the supernal comfort that lightened his\nafter years of sorrow from the dying bed of his wife who whispered with\nher last breath, \"Hide me, O my Saviour, hide.\"\n\nA childless and widowed father in Washington remembers with a more than\nearthly peace, the wife and mother's last request for Wesley's hymn, and\nher departure to the sound of its music to join the spirit of her babe.\n\nA summer visitor in Philadelphia, waiting on a hot street-corner for a\ncar to Fairmount Park, overheard a quavering voice singing the same hymn\nand saw an emaciated hand caressing a little plant in an open\nwindow--and carried away the picture of a fading life, and the words--\n\n Other refuge have I none,\n Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.\n\nOn one of the fields of the Civil War, just after a bloody battle, the\nRev. James Rankin of the United Presbyterian Church bent over a dying\nsoldier. Asked if he had any special request to make, the brave fellow\nreplied, \"Yes, sing 'Jesus, Lover of my Soul.'\"\n\nThe clergyman belonged to a church that sang only Psalms. But what a\ntribute to that ubiquitous hymn that such a man knew it by heart! A\nmoment's hesitation and he recalled the words, and, for the first time\nin his life, sang a sacred song that was not a Psalm. When he reached\nthe lines,--\n\n Safe into the haven guide,\n O receive my soul at last,\n\n--his hand was in the frozen grip of a dead man, whose face wore \"the\nlight that never was on sea or land.\" The minister went away saying to\nhimself, \"If this hymn is good to die by, it is good to live by.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOf all the tone-masters who have studied and felt this matchless hymn,\nand given it vocal wings--Marsh, Zundel, Bradbury, Dykes, Mason--none\nhas so exquisitely uttered its melting prayer, syllable by syllable, as\nJoseph P. Holbrook in his \"Refuge.\" Unfortunately for congregational\nuse, it is a duo and quartet score for select voices; but the four-voice\nportion can be a chorus, and is often so sung. Its form excludes it from\nsome hymnals or places it as an optional beside a congregational tune.\nBut when rendered by the choir on special occasions its success in\nconveying the feeling and soul of the words is complete. There is a\nprayer in the swell of every semitone and the touch of every accidental,\nand the sweet concord of the duet--soprano with tenor or bass--pleads\non to the end of the fourth line, where the full harmony reinforces it\nlike an organ with every stop in play. The tune is a rill of melody\nending in a river of song.[36]\n\n[Footnote 36: Holbrook has also an arrangement of Franz Abt's, \"When the\nSwallows Homeward Fly\" written to \"Jesus, Lover of my Soul,\" but with\nWesley's words it is far less effective than his original work. \"Refuge\"\nis not a manufacture but an inspiration.]\n\nFor general congregational use, Mason's \"Whitman\" has wedded itself to\nthe hymn perhaps closer than any other. It has revival associations\nreaching back more than sixty years.\n\n\n\"WHEN MARSHALLED ON THE NIGHTLY PLAIN.\"\n\nPerhaps no line in all familiar hymnology more readily suggests the name\nof its author than this. In the galaxy of poets Henry Kirke White was a\nbrief luminary whose brilliancy and whose early end have appealed to the\nhearts of three generations. He was born at Nottingham, Eng., in the\nyear 1795. His father was a butcher, but the son, disliking the trade,\nwas apprenticed to a weaver at the age of fourteen. Two years later he\nentered an attorney's office as copyist and student.\n\nThe boy imbibed sceptical notions from some source, and might have\ncontinued to scoff at religion to the last but for the experience of his\nintimate friend, a youth named Almond, whose life was changed by\nwitnessing one day the happy death of a Christian believer. Decided to\nbe a Christian himself, it was some time before he mustered courage to\nface White's ridicule and resentment. He simply drew away from him. When\nWhite demanded the reason he was obliged to tell him that they two must\nhenceforth walk different paths.\n\n\"Good God!\" exclaimed White, \"you surely think worse of me than I\ndeserve!\"\n\nThe separation was a severe shock to Henry, and the real grief of it\nsobered his anger to reflection and remorse. The light of a better life\ncame to him when his heart melted--and from that time he and Almond were\nfellows in faith as well as friendship.\n\nIn his hymn the young poet tells the stormy experience of his soul, and\nthe vision that guided him to peace.\n\n When, marshalled on the nightly plain,\n The glittering host bestud the sky,\n One star alone of all the train\n Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.\n Hark, hark! to God the chorus breaks,\n From every host, from every gem,\n But one alone the Saviour speaks;\n It is the Star of Bethlehem.\n\n Once on the raging seas I rode:\n The storm was loud, the night was dark;\n The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed\n The wind that tossed my foundering bark.\n Deep horror then my vitals froze,\n Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,\n When suddenly a star arose;\n It was the Star of Bethlehem.\n\n It was my guide, my light, my all,\n It bade my dark forebodings cease;\n And through the storm and danger's thrall,\n It led me to the port of peace.\n Now, safely moored, my perils o'er,\n I'll sing, first in night's diadem,\n For ever and for evermore,\n The Star, the Star of Bethlehem!\n\nBesides this delightful hymn, with its graphic sea-faring metaphors, two\nothers, at least, of the same boy-poet hold their place in many of the\nchurch and chapel collections:\n\n The Lord our God is clothed with might,\n The winds obey His will;\n He speaks, and in his heavenly height\n The rolling sun stands still.\n\nAnd--\n\n Oft in danger, oft in woe,\n Onward, Christians, onward go.\n\nHenry Kirke White died in the autumn of 1806, when he was scarcely\ntwenty years old. His \"Ode to Disappointment,\" and the miscellaneous\nflowers and fragments of his genius, make up a touching volume. The fire\nof a pure, strong spirit burning through a consumptive frame is in them\nall.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"When, marshalled on the mighty plain\" has a choral set to it in the\n_Methodist Hymnal_--credited to Thos. Harris, and entitled\n\"Crimea\"--which divides the three stanzas into six, and breaks the\ncontinuity of the hymn. Better sing it in its original form--long metre\ndouble--to the dear old melody of \"Bonny Doon.\" The voices of Scotland,\nEngland and America are blended in it.\n\n[Illustration: William B. Bradbury]\n\nThe origin of this Caledonian air, though sometimes fancifully traced to\nan Irish harper and sometimes to a wandering piper of the Isle of Man,\nis probably lost in antiquity. Burns, however, whose name is linked with\nit, tells this whimsical story of it, though giving no date save \"a good\nmany years ago,\"--(apparently about 1753). A virtuoso, Mr. James Millar,\nhe writes, wishing he were able to compose a Scottish tune, was told by\na musical friend to sit down to his harpsichord and make a rhythm of\nsome kind _solely on the black keys_, and he would surely turn out a\nScotch tune. The musical friend, pleased at the result of his jest,\ncaught the string of plaintive sounds made by Millar, and fashioned it\ninto \"Bonny Doon.\"\n\n\n\"LAND AHEAD!\"\n\nThe burden of this hymn was suggested by the dying words of John Adams,\none of the crew of the English ship Bounty who in 1789 mutinied, set the\ncaptain and officers adrift, and ran the vessel to a tropical island,\nwhere they burned her. In a few years vice and violence had decimated\nthe wicked crew, who had exempted themselves from all divine and human\nrestraint, until the last man alive was left with only native women and\nhalf-breed children for company. His true name was Alexander Smith, but\nhe had changed it to John Adams.\n\nThe situation forced the lonely Englishman to a sense of solemn\nresponsibility, and in bitter remorse, he sought to retrieve his wasted\nlife, and spend the rest of his exile in repentance and repentant works.\nHe found a Bible in one of the dead seamen's chests, studied it, and\norganized a community on the Christian plan. A new generation grew up\naround him, reverencing him as governor, teacher, preacher and judge,\nand speaking his language--and he was wise enough to exercise his\nauthority for the common good, and never abuse it. Pitcairn's Island\nbecame \"the Paradise of the Pacific.\" It has not yet belied its name.\nBesides its opulence of rural beauty and natural products, its\ninhabitants, now the third generation from the \"mutineer missionary,\"\nare a civilized community without the vices of civilization. There is no\nlicentiousness, no profanity, no Sabbath-breaking, no rum or\ntobacco--and _no sickness_.\n\nJohn Adams died in 1829--after an island residence of forty years. In\nhis extreme age, while he lay waiting for the end, he was asked how he\nfelt in view of the final voyage.\n\n\"Land ahead!\" murmured the old sailor--and his last words were,\n\"Rounding the Cape--into the harbor.\"\n\nThat the veteran's death-song should be perpetuated in sacred music is\nnot strange.\n\n Land ahead! its fruits are waving\n O'er the hills of fadeless green;\n And the living waters laving\n Shores where heavenly forms are seen.\n\n CHORUS.\n Rocks and storms I'll fear no more,\n When on that eternal shore;\n Drop the anchor! furl the sail!\n I am safe within the veil.\n\n Onward, bark! the cape I'm rounding;\n See, the blessed wave their hands;\n Hear the harps of God resounding\n From the bright immortal bands.\n\nThe authorship of the hymn is credited to Rev. E. Adams--whether or not\na descendent of the Island Patriarch we have no information. It was\nwritten about 1869.\n\nThe ringing melody that bears the words was composed by John Miller\nEvans, born Nov. 30, 1825; died Jan. 1, 1892. The original air--with a\nsimple accompaniment--was harmonized by Hubert P. Main, and published in\n_Winnowed Hymns_ in 1873.\n\n\n\"ETERNAL FATHER, STRONG TO SAVE.\"\n\nThis is sung almost universally on English ships. It is said to have\nbeen one of Sir Evelyn Wood's favorites. The late William Whiting wrote\nit in 1860, and it was incorporated with some alterations in the\nstandard English Church collection entitled _Hymns Ancient and Modern_.\nIt is a translation from a Latin hymn, a triune litany addressing a\nstanza each to Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The whole four stanzas have\nthe same refrain, and the appeal to the Father, who bids--\n\n --the mighty ocean deep\n Its own appointed limits keep,\n\n--varies in the appeal to Christ, who--\n\n --_walked_ upon the foaming deep.\n\nThe third and fourth stanzas are the following:\n\n O Holy Spirit, Who didst brood\n Upon the waters dark and rude,\n And bid their angry tumult cease,\n And give, for wild confusion, peace;\n Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee\n For those in peril on the sea.\n\n O Trinity of love and power,\n Our brethren shield in danger's hour;\n From rock and tempest, fire and foe,\n Protect them wheresoe'er they go:\n Thus evermore shall rise to Thee\n Glad hymns of praise from land to sea.\n\nWilliam Whiting was born at Kensington, London, Nov. 1, 1825. He was\nMaster of Winchester College Chorister's School Died in 1878.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe choral named \"Melita\" (in memory of St. Paul's shipwreck) was\ncomposed by Dr. Dykes in 1861, and its strong and easy chords and\nmoderate note range are nobly suited to the devout hymn.\n\n\n\"THE OCEAN HATH NO DANGER.\"\n\nThis charming sailors' lyric is the work of the Rev. Godfrey Thring. Its\nprobable date is 1862, and it appeared in Morell and Howe's collection\nand in _Hymns Congregational and Others_, published in 1866, which\ncontained a number from his pen. Rector Thring was born at Alford,\nSomersetshire, Eng., March 25, 1823, and educated at Shrewsbury School\nand Baliol College, Oxford. In 1858 he succeeded his father as Rector of\nAlford.\n\nHe compiled _A Church of England Hymnbook_ in 1880.\n\n The ocean hath no danger\n For those whose prayers are made\n To Him who in a manger\n A helpless Babe was laid,\n Who, born to tribulation\n And every human ill,\n The Lord of His creation,\n The wildest waves can still.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Though life itself be waning\n And waves shall o'er us sweep,\n The wild winds sad complaining\n Shall lull us still to sleep,\n For as a gentle slumber\n E'en death itself shall prove\n To those whom Christ doth number\n As worthy of His love.\n\nThe tune \"Morlaix,\" given to the hymn by Dr. Dykes, is simple, but a\nvery sweet and appropriate harmony.\n\n\n\"FIERCE RAGED THE TEMPEST ON THE DEEP.\"\n\nThis fine lyric, based on the incident in the storm on the Sea of\nGalilee, is the work of the same writer and owes its tune \"St. Aelred\"\nto the same composer.\n\nThe melody has an impressive rallentando of dotted semibreves to the\nrefrain, \"Peace, be still,\" after the more rapid notes of the three-line\nstanzas.\n\n The wild winds hushed, the angry deep\n Sank like a little child to sleep,\n The sullen waters ceased to leap.\n\n * * * * *\n\n So when our life is clouded o'er\n And storm-winds drift us from the shore\n Say, lest we sink to rise no more,\n \"Peace! be still.\"\n\n\n\"PULL FOR THE SHORE.\"\n\nWhen a shipwrecked crew off a rocky coast were hurrying to the\nlong-boat, a sailor begged leave to run back to the ship's forecastle\nand save some of his belongings.\n\n\"No sir,\" shouted the Captain, \"she's sinking! There's nothing to do but\nto pull for the shore.\" Philip P. Bliss caught up the words, and wrought\nthem into a hymn and tune.\n\n Light in the darkness, sailor, day is at hand!\n See o'er the foaming billows fair Haven's land;\n Drear was the voyage, sailor, now almost o'er;\n Safe in the life-boat, sailor, pull for the shore!\n\n CHORUS.\n Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore!\n Heed not the rolling waves, but bend to the oar;\n Safe in the life-boat, sailor, cling to self no more;\n Leave the poor old stranded wreck and pull for the shore!\n\nThe hymn-tune is a buoyant allegro--solo and chorus--full of hope and\ncourage, and both imagery and harmony appeal to the hearts of seamen. It\nis popular, and has long been one of the song numbers in demand at\nreligious services both on sea and land.\n\n\n\"JESUS, SAVIOUR, PILOT ME.\"\n\nThe Rev. Edward Hopper, D.D. wrote this hymn while pastor of Mariner's\nChurch at New York harbor, \"The Church of the Sea and Land.\" He was born\nin 1818, and graduated at Union Theological Seminary in 1843.\n\n Jesus, Saviour, pilot me\n Over life's tempestuous sea,\n Unknown waves before me roll,\n Hiding rock and treacherous shoal;\n Chart and compass come from Thee,\n Jesus, Saviour, pilot me!\n\nOnly three stanzas of this rather lengthy hymn are in common use.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nWithout title except \"Savior, pilot me.\" A simple and pleasing melody\ncomposed by John Edgar Gould, late of the firm of Gould and Fischer,\npiano dealers, Phila., Pa. He was born in Bangor, Me., April 9, 1822.\nConductor of music and composer of psalm and hymn tunes and glees, he\nalso compiled and published no less than eight books of church,\nSunday-school, and secular songs. Died in Algiers, Africa, Feb. 13,\n1875.\n\n\n\"THROW OUT THE LIFE-LINE.\"\n\nThis is one of the popular refrains that need but a single hearing to\nfix themselves in common memory and insure their own currency and\n_eclat_.\n\nThe Rev. E.S. Ufford, well-known as a Baptist preacher, lecturer, and\nevangelist, was witnessing a drill at the life-saving station on Point\nAllerton, Nantasket Beach, when the order to \"throw out the life-line\"\nand the sight of the apparatus in action, combined with the story of a\nshipwreck on the spot, left an echo in his mind till it took the form of\na song-sermon. Returning home, he pencilled the words of this rousing\nhymn, and, being himself a singer and player, sat down to his instrument\nto match the lines with a suitable air. It came to him almost as\nspontaneously as the music of \"The Ninety and Nine\" came to Mr. Sankey.\nIn fifteen minutes the hymn-tune was made--so far as the melody went.\nIt was published in sheet form in 1888, and afterwards purchased by Mr.\nSankey, harmonized by Mr. Stebbins, and published in _Winnowed Songs_,\n1890. Included in _Gospel Hymns_, Nov. 6, 1891.\n\nEver since it has been a favorite with singing seamen, and has done\nactive service as one of our most stirring field-songs in revival work.\n\n Throw out the Life-line across the dark wave,\n There is a brother whom some one should save;\n Somebody's brother! oh, who, then, will dare\n To throw out the Life-line, his peril to share?\n\n Throw out the Life-line with hand quick and strong!\n Why do you tarry, why linger so long?\n See! he is sinking; oh, hasten today--\n And out with the Life-boat! away, then away!\n\n CHORUS.\n Throw out the Life-line!\n Throw out the Life-line!\n Some one is drifting away;\n Throw out the Life-line!\n Throw out the Life-line!\n Some one is sinking today.\n\nOne evening, in the midst of their hilarity at their card-tables, a\nconvivial club in one of the large Pennsylvania cities heard a sweet,\nclear female voice singing this solo hymn, followed by a chime of\nmingled voices in the chorus. A room in the building had been hired for\nreligious meetings, and tonight was the first of the series. A strange\ncoolness dampened the merriment in the club-room, as the singing went\non, and the gradual silence became a hush, till finally one member threw\ndown his cards and declared, \"If what they're saying is right, then\nwe're wrong.\"\n\nOthers followed his example, then another, and another.\n\n There is a brother whom some one should save.\n\nQuietly the revellers left their cards, cigars and half-emptied glasses\nand went home.\n\nSaid the ex-member who told the story years after to Mr. Ufford, \"'Throw\nOut the Life-line' broke up that club.\"\n\nHe is today one of the responsible editors of a great city daily--and\nhis old club-mates are all holding positions of trust.\n\nA Christian man, a prosperous manufacturer in a city of Eastern\nMassachusetts, dates his first religious impressions from hearing this\nhymn when sung in public for the first time, twenty years ago.\n\nVisiting California recently, Mr. Ufford sang his hymn at a\nwatch-meeting and told the story of the loss of the Elsie Smith on Cape\nCod in 1902, exhibiting also the very life-line that had saved sixteen\nlives from the wreck. By chance one of those sixteen was in the\naudience.\n\nAn English clergyman who was on duty at Gibraltar when an emigrant ship\nwent on the rocks in a storm, tells with what pathetic power and effect\n\"Throw out the Life-line\" was sung at a special Sunday service for the\nsurvivors.\n\nAt one of Evan Roberts' meetings in Laughor, Wales, one speaker related\nthe story of a \"vision,\" when in his room alone, and a Voice that bade\nhim pray, and when he knelt but could not pray, commanded him to \"Throw\nout the Life-line.\" He had scarcely uttered these words in his story\nwhen the whole great congregation sprang to its feet and shouted the\nhymn together like the sound of many waters.\n\n\"There is more electricity in that song than in any other I ever heard,\"\nDr. Cuyler said to Mr. Sankey when he heard him sing it. Its electricity\nhas carried it nearly round the world.\n\nThe Rev. Edward Smith Ufford was born in Newark, N.J., 1851, and\neducated at Stratford Academy (Ct.) and Bates Theological Seminary, Me.\nHe held several pastorates in Maine and Massachusetts, but a preference\nfor evangelistic work led him to employ his talent for object-teaching\nin illustrated religious lectures through his own and foreign lands,\nsinging his hymn and enforcing it with realistic representation. He is\nthe author and compiler of several Sunday-school and chapel\nsong-manuals, as _Converts' Praise_, _Life-long Songs_, _Wonderful Love_\nand _Gathered Gems_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nHYMNS OF WALES.\n\n\nIn writing this chapter the task of identifying the _tune_, and its\nauthor, in the case of every hymn, would have required more time and\nlabor than, perhaps, the importance of the facts would justify.\n\nPeculiar interest, however, attaches to Welsh hymns, even apart from the\nairs which accompany them, and a general idea of Welsh music may be\ngathered from the tone and metre of the lyrics introduced. More\nparticular information would necessitate printing the music itself.\n\nFrom the days of the Druids, Wales has been a land of song. From the\nlater but yet ancient time when the people learned the Christian faith,\nit has had its Christian psalms. The \"March of the White Monks of\nBangor\" (7th century) is an epic of bravery and death celebrating the\nadvance of Christian martyrs to their bloody fate at the hands of the\nSaxon savages. \"Its very rhythm pictures the long procession of\nwhite-cowled patriots bearing peaceful banners and in faith taking their\nway to Chester to stimulate the valor of their countrymen.\" And ever\nsince the \"Battle of the Hallelujahs\"--near Chirk on the border, nine\nmiles from Wrexham--when the invading Danes were driven from the field\nin fright by the rush of the Cymric army shouting that mighty cry, every\nChristian poet in Wales has had a hallelujah in his verse.\n\nThrough the centuries, while chased and hunted by their conquerors among\nthe Cambrian hills, but clinging to their independent faith, or even\nwhen paralyzed into spiritual apathy under tribute to a foreign church,\nthe heavenly song still murmured in a few true hearts amidst the vain\nand vicious lays of carnal mirth. It survived even when people and\npriest alike seemed utterly degenerate and godless. The voice of Walter\nBute (1372) rang true for the religion of Jesus in its purity. Brave\nJohn Oldcastle, the martyr, (1417) clung to the gospel he learned at\nthe foot of the cross. William Wroth, _clergyman_, saved from fiddling\nat a drunken dance by a disaster that turned a house of revelry into a\nhouse of death, confessed his sins to God and became the \"Apostle of\nSouth Wales.\" The young vicar, Rhys Pritchard (1579) rose from the\nsunken level of his profession, rescued through an incident less tragic.\nAccustomed to drink himself to inebriety at a public-house--a socially\nwinked-at indulgence then--he one day took his pet goat with him, and\npoured liquor down the creature's throat. The refusal of the poor goat\nto go there again forced the reckless priest to reflect on his own ways.\nHe forsook the ale-house and became a changed man.\n\nAmong his writings--later than this--is found the following plain, blunt\nstatement of what continued long to be true of Welsh society, as\nrepresented in the common use of Sunday time.\n\n Of all the days throughout the rolling year\n There's not a day we pass so much amiss,\n There's not a day wherein we all appear\n So irreligious, so profaned as this.\n\n A day for drunkenness, a day for sport,\n A day to dance, a day to lounge away,\n A day for riot and excess, too short\n Amongst the Welshmen is the Sabbath day.\n\n A day to sit, a day to chat and spend,\n A day when fighting 'mongst us most prevails,\n A day to do the errands of the Fiend--\n Such is the Sabbath in most parts of Wales.\n\nMeantime some who could read the language--and the better educated (like\nthe author of the above rhymes) knew English as well as Welsh--had seen\na rescued copy of _Wycliffs New Testament_, a precious publication\nseized and burnt (like the bones of its translator) by hostile\necclesiastics, and suppressed for nearly two hundred years. Walter Bute,\nlike Obadiah who hid the hundred prophets, may well be credited with\nsuch secret salvage out of the general destruction. And there were\ndoubtless others equally alert for the same quiet service. We can\nimagine how far the stealthy taste of that priceless book would help to\nstrengthen a better religion than the one doled out professionally to\nthe multitude by a Civil church; and how it kept the hallelujah alive\nin silent but constant souls; and in how many cases it awoke a\nconscience long hypnotized under corrupt custom, and showed a renegade\nChristian how morally untuned he was.\n\nDaylight came slowly after the morning star, but when the dawn reddened\nit was in welcome to Pritchard's and Penry's gospel song; and sunrise\nhastened at the call of Caradoc, and Powell, and Erbury, and Maurice,\nthe holy men who followed them, some with the trumpet of Sinai and some\nwith the harp of Calvary.\n\nCambria was being prepared for its first great revival of religion.\n\nThere was no rich portfolio of Christian hymns such as exists to-day,\nbut surely there were not wanting pious words to the old chants of\nBangor and the airs of \"Wild Wales.\" When time brought Howell Harris and\nDaniel Rowland, and the great \"Reformation\" of the eighteenth century,\nthe renowned William Williams, \"the Watts of Wales,\" appeared, and began\nhis tuneful work. The province soon became a land of hymns. The candles\nlit and left burning here and there by Penry, Maurice, and the Owens,\nblazed up to beacon-fires through all the twelve counties when Harris,\nat the head of the mighty movement, carried with him the sacred songs of\nWilliams, kindling more lights everywhere between the Dee and the\nBritish Channel.\n\nWilliam Williams of Pantycelyn was born in 1717, at Cefncoed Farm, near\nLlandovery. Three years younger than Harris, (an Oxford graduate,) and\neducated only at a village school and an academy at Llwynllwyd, he was\nthe song protagonist of the holy campaign as the other was its champion\npreacher. From first to last Williams wrote nine hundred and sixteen\nhymns, some of which are still heard throughout the church militant, and\nothers survive in local use and affection. He died Jan. 11, 1791, at\nPantycelyn, where he had made his home after his marriage. One of the\nhymns in his _Gloria_, his second publication, may well have been his\nlast. It was dear to him above others, and has been dear to devout souls\nin many lands.\n\n My God, my portion and my love;\n My all on earth, my all above,\n My all within the tomb;\n The treasures of this world below\n Are but a vain, delusive show,\n Thy bosom is my home.\n\nIt was fitting that Williams should name the first collection of his\nhymns (all in his native Welsh) _The Hallelujah_. Its lyrics are full of\nadoration for the Redeemer, and thanksgivings for His work.\n\n\n\"ONWARD RIDE IN TRIUMPH, JESUS,\"\n\n_Marchog, Jesu, yn llwyddiannus_,\n\nHas been sung in Wales for a century and a half, and is still a\nfavorite.\n\n Onward ride in triumph, Jesus,\n Gird thy sword upon thy thigh;\n Neither earth nor Hell's own vastness\n Can Thy mighty power defy.\n In Thy Name such glory dwelleth\n Every foe withdraws in fear,\n All the wide creation trembleth\n Whensoever Thou art near.[37]\n\nThe unusual militant strain in this paean of conquest soon disappears,\nand the gentler aspects of Christ's atoning sacrifice occupy the\nwriter's mind and pen.\n\n[Footnote 37: The following shows the style of Rev. Elvet Lewis'\ntranslation:\n Blessed Jesus, march victorious\n With Thy sword fixed at Thy side;\n Neither death nor hell can hinder\n The God-Warrior in His ride.]\n\n\n\"IN EDEN--O THE MEMORY!\"\n\n_Yn Eden cofiaf hyny byth!_\n\nThe text, \"He was wounded for our transgressions,\" is amplified in this\nhymn, and the Saviour is shown bruising Himself while bruising the\nserpent.\n\nThe first stanza gives the key-note,--\n\n In Eden--O the memory!\n What countless gifts were lost to me!\n My crown, my glory fell;\n But Calvary's great victory\n Restored that vanished crown to me;\n On this my songs shall dwell;\n\n--and the multitude of Williams' succeeding \"songs\" that chant the same\ntheme shows how well he kept his promise. The following hymn in Welsh\n(_Cymmer, Jesu fi fel'r ydwyf_) antedates the advice of Dr. Malan to\nCharlotte Elliott, \"Come just as you are\"--\n\n Take me as I am, O Saviour,\n Better I can never be;\n Thou alone canst bring me nearer,\n Self but draws me far from Thee.\n I can never\n But within Thy wounds be saved;\n\n--and another (_Mi dafla maich oddi ar fy ngway_) reminds us of Bunyan's\nPilgrim in sight of the Cross:\n\n I'll cast my heavy burden down,\n Remembering Jesus' pains;\n Guilt high as towering mountain tops\n Here turns to joyful strains.\n\n * * * * *\n\n He stretched His pure white hands abroad,\n A crown of thorns He wore,\n That so the vilest sinner might\n Be cleansed forevermore;\n\nWilliams was called \"The Sweet Singer of Wales\" and \"The Watts of Wales\"\nbecause he was the chief poet and hymn-writer of his time, but the lady\nhe married, Miss Mary Francis, was _literally_ a singer, with a voice so\nfull and melodious that the people to whom he preached during his\nitineraries, which she sometimes shared with him, were often more moved\nby her sweet hymnody than by his exhortations. On one occasion the good\nman, accompanied by his wife, put up at Bridgend Tavern in Llangefin,\nAnglesea, and a mischievous crowd, wishing to plague the \"Methodists,\"\nplanned to make night hideous in the house with a boisterous\nmerry-making. The fiddler, followed by a gang of roughs, pushed his way\nto the parlor, and mockingly asked the two guests if they would \"have a\ntune.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Williams, falling in with his banter, \"anything you like,\nmy lad; 'Nancy Jig' or anything else.\"\n\nAnd at a sign from her husband, as soon as the fellow began the jig,\nMrs. Williams struck in with one of the poet-minister's well-known Welsh\nhymns in the same metre,--\n\n _Gwaed Dy groes sy'n c' odi fyny_\n\n Calvary's blood the weak exalteth\n More than conquerors to be,[38]\n\n--and followed the player note for note, singing the sacred words in her\nsweet, clear voice, till he stopped ashamed, and took himself off with\nall his gang.\n\n[Footnote 38: A less literal but more hymn-like translation is:\n Jesu's blood can raise the feeble\n As a conqueror to stand;\n Jesu's blood is all-prevailing\n O'er the mighty of the land:\n Let the breezes\n Blow from Calvary on me.\n\nSays the author of _Sweet Singers of Wales_, \"This refrain has been the\npassword of many powerful revivals.\"]\n\nAnother hymn--\n\n _O' Llefara! addfwyn Jesu_,\n\n Speak, O speak, thou gentle Jesus,\n\n--recalls the well-known verse of Newton, \"How sweet the name of Jesus\nsounds.\" Like many of Williams' hymns, it was prompted by occasion. Some\nconverts suffered for lack of a \"clear experience\" and complained to\nhim. They were like the disciples in the ship, \"It was dark, and Jesus\nhad not yet come unto them.\" The poet-preacher immediately made this\nhymn-prayer for all souls similarly tried. Edward Griffiths translates\nit thus:\n\n Speak, I pray Thee, gentle Jesus,\n O how passing sweet Thy words,\n Breathing o'er my troubled spirit,\n Peace which never earth affords,\n All the world's distracting voices,\n All th' enticing tones of ill,\n At Thy accents, mild, melodious\n Are subdued, and all is still.\n\n Tell me Thou art mine, O Saviour\n Grant me an assurance clear,\n Banish all my dark misgivings,\n Still my doubting, calm my fear.\n\nBesides his Welsh hymns, published in the first and in the second and\nlarger editions of his _Hallelujah_, and in two or three other\ncollections, William Williams wrote and published two books of English\nhymns,[39] the _Hosanna_ (1759) and the _Gloria_ (1772). He fills so\nlarge a space in the hymnology and religious history of Wales that he\nwill necessarily reappear in other pages of this chapter.\n\n[Footnote 39: Possibly they were written in Welsh, and translated into\nEnglish by his friend and neighbor, Peter Williams.]\n\nFrom the days of the early religious awakenings under the 16th century\npreachers, and after the ecclesiastical dynasty of Rome had been\nreplaced by that of the Church of England, there were periods when the\nindependent conscience of a few pious Welshmen rose against religious\nformalism, and the credal constraints of \"established\" teaching--and\nsuffered for it. Burning heretics at the stake had ceased to be a church\npractice before the 1740's, but Howell Harris, Daniel Rowlands, and the\nrest of the \"Methodist Fathers,\" with their followers, were not only\nostracised by society and haled before magistrates to be fined for\npreaching, and sometimes imprisoned, but they were chased and beaten by\nmobs, ducked in ponds and rivers, and pelted with mud and garbage when\nthey tried to speak or sing. But they kept on talking and singing.\nHarris (who had joined the army in 1760) owned a commission, and once he\nsaved himself from the fury of a mob while preaching--with cloak over\nhis ordinary dress--by lifting his cape and showing the star on his\nbreast. No one dared molest an officer of His Britannic Majesty. But all\nwere not able to use St. Paul's expedient in critical moments.[40]\n\n[Footnote 40: Acts 22:25.]\n\nWilliam Williams often found immunity in his hymns, for like Luther--and\nlike Charles Wesley among the Cornwall sea-robbers--he caught up the\npopular glees and ballad-refrains of the street and market and his wife\nsang their music to his words. It is true many of these old Welsh airs\nwere minors, like \"Elvy\" and \"Babel\" (a significant name in English) and\nwould not be classed as \"glees\" in any other country--always excepting\nScotland--but they had the _swing_, and their mode and style were catchy\nto a Welsh multitude. In fact many of these uncopyrighted bits of\nmusical vernacular were appropriated by the hymnbook makers, and\nchristened with such titles as \"Pembroke,\" \"Arabia,\" \"Brymgfryd,\"\n\"Cwyfan,\" \"Thydian,\" and the two mentioned above.\n\nIt was the time when Whitefield and the Wesleys were sweeping the\nkingdom with their conquering eloquence, and Howell Harris (their\nfellow-student at Oxford) had sided with the conservative wing of the\nGospel Reformation workers, and become a \"Whitfield Methodist.\" The\nWelsh Methodists, _ad exemplum_, marched with this Calvinistic\nbranch--as they do today. Each division had its Christian bard. Charles\nWesley could put regenerating power into sweet, poetic hymns, and\nWilliam Williams' lyrical preaching made the Bible a travelling pulpit.\nThe great \"Beibl Peter Williams\" with its commentaries in Welsh, since\nso long reverenced and cherished in provincial families, was not\npublished till 1770, and for many the printed Word was far to seek.[41]\nBut the gospel minstrels carried the Word with them. Some of the long\nhymns contained nearly a whole body of divinity.\n\n[Footnote 41: As an incident contributory to the formation of the\nBritish and Foreign Bible Society, the story has been often repeated of\nthe little girl who wept when she missed her Catechism appointment, and\ntold Thomas Charles of Bala that the bad weather was the cause of it,\nfor she had to walk seven miles to find a Bible every time she prepared\nher lessons. See page 380.]\n\nThe Welsh learn their hymns by heart, as they do the Bible--a habit\ninherited from those old days of scarcity, when memory served pious\npeople instead of print--so that a Welsh prayer-meeting is never\nembarrassed by a lack of books. An anecdote illustrates this\ncharacteristic readiness. In February, 1797, when Napoleon's name was a\nterror to England, the French landed some troops near Fishguard,\nPembrokeshire. Mounted heralds spread the news through Wales, and in the\nvillage of Rhydybont, Cardiganshire, the fright nearly broke up a\nreligious meeting; but one brave woman, Nancy Jones, stopped a panic by\nsinging this stanza of one of Thomas Williams' hymns,--\n\n _Diuw os wyt am ddylenu'r bya_\n\n If Thou wouldst end the world, O Lord,\n Accomplish first Thy promised Word,\n And gather home with one accord\n From every part Thine own,\n Send out Thy Word from pole to pole,\n And with Thy blood make thousands whole,\n And, _after that come down_.\n\nNancy Jones would have been a useful member of the \"Singing Sisters\"\nband, so efficient a century or more afterwards.\n\nThe _tunes_ of the Reformation under the \"Methodist Fathers\" continued\nfar down the century to be the country airs of the nation, and\nreverberations of the great spiritual movement were heard in their rude\nmusic in the mountain-born revival led by Jack Edward Watkin in 1779 and\nin the local awakenings of 1791 and 1817. Later in the 19th century new\nhymns, and many of the old, found new tunes, made for their sake or\nimported from England and America.\n\nThe sanctified gift of song helped to make 1829 a year of jubilee in\nSouth Wales, nor was the same aid wanting during the plague in 1831,\nwhen the famous Presbyterian preacher, John Elias,[42] won nearly a\nwhole county to Christ.\n\n[Footnote 42: Those who read his biography will call him the \"Seraphic\nJohn Elias.\"\n\nHis name was John Jones when he was admitted a member of the presbytery.\nWhat followed is a commentary on the embarrassing frequency of a common\nname, nowhere realized so universally as it is in Wales.\n\n\"What is his father's name?\" asked the moderator when John Jones was\nannounced.\n\n\"Elias Jones,\" was the answer.\n\n\"Then call the young man John Elias,\" said the speaker, \"otherwise we\nshall by and by have nobody but John Joneses.\"\n\nAnd \"John Elias\" it remained.]\n\nAn accession of temperance hymns in Wales followed the spread of the\n\"Washingtonian\" movement on the other side of the Atlantic in 1840, and\nbegan a moral reformation in the county of Merioneth that resulted in a\nspiritual one, and added to the churches several thousand converts,\nscarcely any of whom fell away.\n\nThe revival of 1851-2 was a local one, but was believed by many to have\nbeen inspired by a celestial antiphony. The remarkable sounds were\neither a miracle or a psychic wonder born of the intense imagination of\na sensitive race. A few pious people in a small village of\nMontgomeryshire had been making special prayer for an outpouring of the\nspirit, but after a week of meetings with no sign of the result hoped\nfor, they were returning to their homes, discouraged, when they heard\nstrains of sweet music in the sky. They stopped in amazement, but the\nbeautiful singing went on--voices as of a choir invisible, indistinct\nbut melodious, in the air far above the roof of the chapel they had just\nleft. Next day, when the astonished worshippers told the story, numbers\nin the district said they had heard the same sounds. Some had gone out\nat eleven o'clock to listen, and thought that angels must be singing.\nWhatever the music meant, the good brethren's and sisters' little\nmeetings became crowded very soon after, and the longed-for out-pouring\ncame mightily upon the neighborhood. Hundreds from all parts flocked to\nthe churches, all ages joining in the prayers and hymns and testimonies,\nand a harvest of glad believers followed a series of meetings \"led by\nthe Holy Ghost.\"\n\nThe sounds in the sky were never explained; but the belief that God sent\nHis angels to sing an answer to the anxious prayers of those pious\nbrethren and sisters did no one any harm.\n\nWhether this event in Montgomeryshire was a preparation for what took\nplace six or seven years later is a suggestive question only, but when\nthe wave of spiritual power from the great American revival of 1857-8\nreached England, its first messenger to Wales, Rev. H.R. Jones, a\nWesleyan, had only to drop the spark that \"lit a prairie fire.\" The\nreformation, chiefly under the leadership of Mr. Jones and Rev. David\nMorgan, a Presbyterian, with their singing bands, was general and\nlasting, hundreds of still robust and active Christians today dating\ntheir new birth from the Pentecost of 1859 and its ingathering of eighty\nthousand souls.\n\nA favorite hymn of that revival was the penitential cry,--\n\n _O'th flaem, O Dduw! 'r wy'n dyfod_,\n\n--in the seven-six metre so much loved in Wales.\n\n Unto Thy presence coming,\n O God, far off I stand:\n \"A sinner\" is my title,\n No other I demand.\n\n For mercy I am seeking\n For mercy still shall cry;\n Deny me not Thy mercy;\n O grant it or I die!\n\n * * * * *\n\n I heard of old that Jesus,\n Who still abides the same,\n To publicans gave welcome,\n And sinners deep in shame.\n\n Oh God! receive me with them,\n Me also welcome in,\n And pardon my transgression,\n Forgetting all my sin.\n\nThe author of the hymn was Thomas Williams of Glamorganshire, born 1761;\ndied 1844. He published a volume of hymns, _Waters of Bethesda_ in 1823.\n\nThe Welsh minor tune of \"Clwyd\" may appropriately have been the music to\nexpress the contrite prayer of the words. The living composer, John\nJones, has several tunes in the Welsh revival manual of melodies, _Ail\nAttodiad_.\n\nThe unparalleled religious movement of 1904-5 was a praying and singing\nrevival. The apostle and spiritual prompter of that unbroken campaign of\nChristian victories--so far as any single human agency counted--was Evan\nRoberts, of Laughor, a humble young worker in the mines, who had prayed\nthirteen years for a mighty descent of the heavenly blessing on his\ncountry and for a clear indication of his own mission. His convictions\nnaturally led him to the ministry, and he went to Newcastle Emlyn to\nstudy. Evangelical work had been done by two societies, made up of\nearnest Christians, and known as the \"Forward Movement\" and the\n\"Simultaneous Mission.\" Beginnings of a special season of interest as a\nresult of their efforts, appeared in the young people's prayer meetings\nin February, 1904, at New Quay, Cardiganshire. The interest increased,\nand when branch-work was organized a young praying and singing band\nvisited Newcastle Emlyn in the course of one of their tours, and held a\nrally meeting. Evan Roberts went to the meeting and found his own\nmission. He left his studies and consecrated himself, soul and body, to\nrevival work. In every spiritual and mental quality he was surpassingly\nwell-equipped. To the quick sensibility of his poetic nature he added\nthe inspiration of a seer and the zeal of a devotee. Like Moses, Elijah,\nand Paul in Arabian solitudes, and John in the Dead Sea wilds, he had\nprepared himself in silence and alone with God; and though, on occasion,\nhe could use effectively his gift of words, he stood distinct in a land\nof matchless pulpit orators as \"the silent leader.\" Without preaching he\ndominated the mood of his meetings, and without dictating he could\nchange the trend of a service and shape the next song or prayer on the\nintuition of a moment. In fact, judged by its results, it was God\nHimself who directed the revival, only He endowed His minister with the\npower of divination to watch its progress and take the stumbling-blocks\nout of the way. By a kind of hallowed psychomancy, that humble man would\ndetect a discordant presence, and hush the voices of a congregation till\nthe stubborn soul felt God in the stillness, and penitently\nsurrendered.\n\nMany tones of the great awakening of 1859 heard again in 1904-5,--the\nharvest season without a precedent, when men, women and children\nnumbering ten per cent of the whole population of a province were\ngathered into the membership of the church of Christ. But there were\ntones a century older heard in the devotions of that harvest-home in\nWales. A New England Christian would have felt at home, with the tuneful\nassemblies at Laughor, Trencynon, Bangor, Bethesda, Wrexham, Cardiff, or\nLiverpool, singing Lowell Mason's \"Meribah\" or the clarion melody of\nEdson's \"Lenox\" to Wesley's--\n\n Blow ye the trumpet, blow,\n The gladly solemn sound;\n\n--or to his other well-known--\n\n Arise my soul, arise,\n Shake off thy guilty fears,\n The bleeding Sacrifice\n In thy behalf appear.\n\nIn short, the flood tide of 1904 and 1905 brought in very little new\nmusic and very few new hymns. \"Aberystwyth\" and \"Tanymarian,\" the minor\nharmonies of Joseph Party and Stephens; E.M. Price's \"St. Garmon;\" R.M.\nPritchard's, \"Hyfrydol,\" and a few others, were choral favorites, but\ntheir composers were all dead, and the congregations loved the still\nolder singers who had found familiar welcome at their altars and\nfiresides. The most cherished and oftenest chosen hymns were those of\nWilliam Williams and Ann Griffiths, of Charles Wesley, of Isaac\nWatts--indeed the very tongues of fire that appeared at Jerusalem took\non the Cymric speech, and sang the burning lyrics of the poet-saints.\nAnd in their revival joy Calvinistic Wales sang the New Testament with\nmore of its Johannic than of its Pauline texts. The covenant of\npeace--Christ and His Cross--is the theme of all their hymns.\n\n\n\"HERE BEHOLD THE TENT OF MEETING.\"\n\n_Dyma Babell y cyfarfod._\n\nThis hymn, written by Ann Griffiths, is entitled \"Love Eternal,\" and\npraises the Divine plan to satisfy the Law and at the same time save the\nsinner. The first stanza gives an idea of the thought:\n\n Here behold the tent of meeting,\n In the blood a peace with heaven,\n Refuge from the blood-avengers,\n For the sick a Healer given.\n Here the sinner nestles safely\n At the very Throne divine,\n And Heaven's righteous law, all holy.\n Still on him shall smile and shine.\n\n\n\"HOW SWEET THE COVENANT TO REMEMBER.\"\n\n_Bydd melus gofio y cyfammod._\n\nThis, entitled \"Mysteries of Grace,\" is also from the pen of Ann\nGriffiths. It has the literalness noticeable in much of the Welsh\nreligious poetry, and there is a note of pietism in it. The two last\nstanzas are these:\n\n He is the great Propitiation\n Who with the thieves that anguish bare;\n He nerved the arms of His tormentors\n To drive the nails that fixed Him there.\n While He discharged the sinner's ransom,\n And made the Law in honor be,\n Righteousness shone undimmed, resplendent,\n And me the Covenant set free.\n\n My soul, behold Him laid so lowly,\n Of peace the Fount, of Kings the Head,\n The vast creation in Him moving\n And He low-lying with the dead!\n The Life and portion of lost sinners,\n The marvel of heaven's seraphim,\n To sea and land the God Incarnate\n The choir of heaven cries, \"Unto Him!\"\n\nAnn Griffiths' earliest hymn will be called her sweetest. Fortunately,\ntoo, it is more poetically translated. It was before the vivid\nconsciousness and intensity of her religious experience had given her\nspiritual writings a more involved and mystical expression.\n\n My soul, behold the fitness\n Of this great Son of God,\n Trust Him for life eternal\n And cast on Him thy load,\n A man--touched with the pity\n Of every human woe,\n A God--to claim the kingdom\n And vanquish every foe.\n\nThis stanza, the last of her little poem on the \"Eternal Fitness of\nJesus,\" came to her when, returning from an exciting service, filled\nwith thoughts of her unworthiness and of the glorious beauty of her\nSaviour, she had turned down a sheltered lane to pray alone. There on\nher knees in communion with God her soul felt the spirit of the sacred\nsong. By the time she reached home she had formed it into words.\n\nThe first and second stanzas, written later, are these:\n\n Great Author of salvation\n And providence for man,\n Thou rulest earth and heaven\n With Thy far-reaching plan.\n Today or on the morrow,\n Whatever woe betide,\n Grant us Thy strong assistance,\n Within Thy hand to hide.\n\n What though the winds be angry,\n What though the waves be high\n While wisdom is the Ruler,\n The Lord of earth and sky?\n What though the flood of evil\n Rise stormily and dark?\n No soul can sink within it;\n God is Himself the ark.\n\nMrs. Ann Griffiths, of Dolwar Fechan, Montgomeryshire, was born in 1776,\nand died in 1805. \"She remains,\" says Dr. Parry, her fellow-countryman,\n\"a romantic figure in the religious history of Wales. Her hymns leave\nupon the reader an undefinable impression both of sublimity and\nmysticism. Her brief life-history is most worthy of study both from a\nliterary and a religious point of view.\"\n\n[Illustration: Isaac Watts, D.D.]\n\nA suggestive chapter of her short earthly career is compressed in a\nsentence by the author of \"Sweet Singers of Wales:\"\n\n\"She had a Christian life of eight years and a married life of ten\nmonths.\"\n\nShe died at the age of twenty-nine. In 1904, near the centennial of her\ndeath, amid the echoes of her own hymns, and the rising waves of the\ngreat Refreshing over her native land, the people of Dolwar Fechan\ndedicated the new \"Ann Griffiths Memorial Chapel\" to her name and to the\nglory of God.\n\nAlthough the Welsh were not slow to adopt the revival tones of other\nlands, it was the native, and what might be called the national, lyrics\nof that emotional race that were sung with the richest unction and\n_hwyl_ (as the Cymric word is) during the recent reformation, and that\nevinced the strongest hold on the common heart. Needless to say that\nwith them was the world-famous song of William Williams,--\n\n Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah;\n\n _Arglwydd ar wain truy'r anialoch_;\n\n--and that of Dr. Heber Evans,--\n\n Keep me very near to Jesus,\n Though beneath His Cross it be,\n In this world of evil-doing\n 'Tis the Cross that cleanseth me;\n\n--and also that native hymn of expectation, high and sweet, whose writer\nwe have been unable to identify--\n\n The glory is coming! God said it on high,\n When light in the evening will break from the sky;\n The North and South and the East and the West,\n With joy of salvation and peace will be bless'd.\n\n * * * * *\n\n O summer of holiness, hasten along!\n The purpose of glory is constant and strong;\n The winter will vanish, the clouds pass away;\n O South wind of Heaven, breath softly today!\n\nOf the almost countless hymns that voiced the spirit of the great\nrevival, the nine following are selected because they are\nrepresentative, and all favorites--and because there is no room for a\nlarger number. The first line of each is given in the original Welsh:\n\n\n\"DWY ADEN COLOMEN PE CAWN.\"\n\n O had I the wings of a dove\n How soon would I wander away\n To gaze from Mount Nebo I'd love\n On realms that are fairer than day.\n My vision, not clouded nor dim,\n Beyond the dark river should run;\n I'd sing, with my thoughts upon Him,\n The sinless, the crucified one.\n\nThis is another of Thomas Williams' hymns. One of the tunes suitable to\nits feeling and its measure was \"Edom,\" by Thomas Evans. It was much\nsung in 1859, as well as in 1904.\n\n\n\"CAELBOD YN FORSEC DAN YR IAN.\"\n\n Early to bear the yoke excels\n By far the joy in sin that dwells;\n The paths of wisdom still are found\n In peace and solace to abound.\n\n The young who serve Him here below\n The wrath to come shall never know;\n Of such in heaven are pearls that shine\n Unnumbered in the crown divine.\n\nWritten for children and youth by Rev. Thomas Jones, of Denbigh, born\n1756; died 1820,--a Calvinistic Methodist preacher, author of a\nbiography of Thomas Charles of Bala, and various theological works.\n\n\n\"DYMA GARIAD FEL Y MOROEDD, TOSTURIASTHAN FEL Y LLI.\"\n\n Love unfathomed as the ocean\n Mercies boundless as the wave!\n Lo the King of Life, the guiltless,\n Dies my guilty soul to save;\n Who can choose but think upon it,\n Who can choose but praise and sing?\n Here is love, while heaven endureth,\n Nought can to oblivion bring.\n\nThis is called \"The great Welsh love-song.\" It was written by Rev.\nWilliam Rees, D.D., eminent as a preacher, poet, politician and\nessayist. One of the greatest names of nineteenth century Wales. He died\nin 1883.\n\nThe tune, \"Cwynfan Prydian,\" sung to this hymn is one of the old Welsh\nminors that would sound almost weird to our ears, but Welsh voices can\nsing with strange sweetness the Saviour's passion on which Christian\nhearts of that nation love so well to dwell, and the shadow of it, with\nHis love shining through, creates the paradox of a joyful lament in many\nof their chorals. We cannot imitate it.\n\n\n\"RHYFEDDODAU DYDD YR ADGYFODIDD.\"\n\n Unnumbered are the marvels\n The Last Great Day shall see,\n With earth's poor storm-tossed children\n From tribulation free,\n All in their shining raiment\n Transfigured, bright and brave,\n Like to their Lord ascending\n In triumph from the grave.\n\nThe author of this Easter hymn is unknown.\n\nThe _most_ popular Welsh hymns would be named variously by different\nwitnesses according to the breadth and length of their observation. Two\nof them, as a Wrexham music publisher testifies, are certainly the\nfollowing; \"Heaven and Home,\" and \"Lo, a Saviour for the Fallen.\" The\nfirst of these was sung in the late revival with \"stormy rapture.\"\n\n\n\"O FRYNAU CAERSALEM CEIR GIVELED.\"\n\n The heights of fair Salem ascended,\n Each wilderness path we shall see;\n Now thoughts of each difficult journey\n A sweet meditation shall be.\n On death, on the grave and its terrors\n And storms we shall gaze from above\n And freed from all cares we shall revel (?)\n In transports of heavenly love.\n\nAccording to the mood of the meeting this was pitched in three sharps to\nEvelyn Evans' tune of \"Eirinwg\" or with equal Welsh enthusiasm in the C\nminor of old \"Darby.\"\n\nThe author of the hymn was the Rev. David Charles, of Carmarthen, born\n1762; died 1834. He was a heavenly-minded man who loved to dwell on the\ndivine and eternal wonders of redemption. A volume of his sermons was\nspoken of as \"Apples of gold in pictures of silver,\" and the beautiful\npiety of all his writings made them strings of pearls. He understood\nEnglish as well as Welsh, and enjoyed the hymns not only of William and\nThomas Williams but of Watts, Wesley, Cowper, and Newton.[43]\n\n[Footnote 43: The following verses were written by him in English:\n Spirit of grace and love divine,\n Help me to sing that Christ is mine;\n And while the theme my tongue employs\n Fill Thou my soul with living joys.\n\n Jesus is mine--surpassing thought!\n Well may I set the world at nought;\n Jesus is mine, O can it be\n That Jesus lived and died for me?]\n\n\n\"DYMA GEIDWAD I R COLLEDIG.\"\n\n Lo! a Saviour for the fallen,\n Healer of the sick and sore,\n One whose love the vilest sinners\n Seeks to pardon and restore.\n Praise Him, praise Him\n Who has loved us evermore!\n\nThe little now known of the Rev. Morgan Rhys, author of this hymn, is\nthat he was a schoolmaster and preacher, and that he was a contemporary\nand friend of William Williams. Several of his hymns remain in use of\nwhich the oftenest sung is one cited above, and \"_O agor fy llygaid i\nweled_:\"\n\n I open my eyes to this vision,\n The deeps of Thy purpose and word;\n The law of Thy lips is to thousands\n Of gold and of silver preferred;\n When earth is consumed, and its treasure,\n God's words will unchanging remain,\n And to know the God-man is my Saviour\n Is life everlasting to gain.\n\n\"Lo! a Saviour for the Fallen\" finds an appropriate voice in W.M.\nRobert's tune of \"Nesta,\" and also, like many others of the same\nmeasure, in the much-used minors \"Llanietyn,\" \"Catharine,\" and \"Bryn\nCalfaria.\"\n\n\n\"O SANCTEIDDIA F'ENAID ARGLWYDD.\"\n\n Sanctify, O Lord, my spirit,\n Every power and passion sway,\n Bid Thy holy law within me\n Dwell, my wearied soul to stay;\n Let me never\n Rove beyond Thy narrow way.\n\nThis one more hymn of William Williams is from his \"Song of a Cleansed\nHeart\" and is amply provided with tunes, popular ones like \"Tyddyn\nLlwyn,\" \"Y Delyn Aur,\" or \"Capel-Y-Ddol\" lending their deep minors to\nits lines with a thrilling effect realized, perhaps, only in the land of\nTaliessin and the Druids.\n\nThe singular history and inspiring cause of one old Welsh hymn which\nafter various mutilations and vicissitudes survives as the key-note of a\nvalued song of trust, seems to illustrate the Providence that will never\nlet a good thing be lost. It is related of the Rev. David Williams, of\nLlandilo, an obscure but not entirely forgotten preacher, that he had a\ntermagant wife, and one stormy night, when her bickerings became\nintolerable, he went out in the rain and standing by the river composed\nin his mind these lines of tender faith:\n\n In the waves and mighty waters\n No one will support my head\n But my Saviour, my Beloved,\n Who was stricken in my stead.\n In the cold and mortal river\n He would hold my head above;\n I shall through the waves go singing\n For one look of Him I love.\n\nApparently the sentiment and substantially the expression of this humble\nhymn became the burden of more than one Christian lay. Altered and\nblended with a modern gospel hymn, it was sung at the crowded meetings\nof 1904 to Robert Lowry's air of \"Jesus Only,\" and often rendered very\nimpressively as a solo by a sweet female voice.\n\n In the deep and mighty waters\n There is none to hold my head\n But my loving Bridegroom, Jesus,\n Who upon the cross hath bled.\n\n If I've Jesus, Jesus only\n Then my sky will have a gem\n He's the Sun of brightest splendor,\n He's the Star of Bethlehem.\n\n He's the Friend in Death's dark river,\n He will lift me o'er the waves,\n I will sing in the deep waters\n If I only see His face.\n If I've Jesus, Jesus only, etc.\n\nA few of the revival tunes have living authors and are of recent date;\nand the minor harmony of \"Ebenezer\" (marked \"Ton Y Botel\"), which was\ncopied in this country by the New York _Examiner_, with its hymn, is\napparently a contemporary piece. It was first sung at Bethany Chapel,\nCardiff, Jan, 8, 1905, the hymn bearing the name of Rev. W.E. Winks.\n\n Send Thy Spirit, I beseech Thee,\n Gracious Lord, send while I pray;\n Send the Comforter to teach me,\n Guide me, help me in Thy way.\n Sinful, wretched, I have wandered\n Far from Thee in darkest night,\n Precious time and talents squandered,\n Lead, O lead me into light.\n\n Thou hast heard me; light is breaking--\n Light I never saw before.\n Now, my soul with joy awaking,\n Gropes in fearful gloom no more:\n O the bliss! my soul, declare it;\n Say what God hath done for thee;\n Tell it out, let others share it--\n Christ's salvation, full and free.\n\nOne cannot help noticing the fondness of the Welsh for the 7-6, 8-7, and\n8-7-4 metres. These are favorites since they lend themselves so\nnaturally to the rhythms of their national music--though their newest\nhymnals by no means exclude exotic lyrics and melodies. Even \"O mother\ndear, Jerusalem,\" one of the echoes of Bernard of Cluny's great hymn, is\ncherished in their tongue (_O, Frynian Caerselem_) among the favorites\nof song. Old \"Truro\" by Dr. Burney appears among their tunes, Mason's\n\"Ernan,\" \"Lowell\" and \"Shawmut,\" I.B. Woodbury's \"Nearer Home\" (to Phebe\nCary's hymn), and even George Hews' gently-flowing \"Holley.\" Most of\nthese tunes retain their own hymns, but in Welsh translation. To find\nour Daniel Read's old \"Windham\" there is no surprise. The minor mode--a\nsong-instinct of the Welsh, if not of the whole Celtic family of\nnations, is their rural inheritance. It is in the wind of their\nmountains and the semitones of their streams; and their nature can make\nit a gladness as the Anglo-Saxon cannot. So far from being a gloomy\npeople, their capacity for joy in spiritual life is phenomenal. In\npsalmody their emotions mount on wings, and they find ecstacy in solemn\nsounds.\n\n\"A temporary excitement\" is the verdict of skepticism on the Reformation\nwave that for a twelvemonth swept over Wales with its ringing symphonies\nof hymn and tune. But such excitements are the May-blossom seasons of\nGod's eternal husbandry. They pass because human vigor cannot last at\nflood-tide, but in spiritual economy they will always have their place,\n\"If the blossoms had not come and gone there would be no fruit.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nFIELD HYMNS.\n\n\nHymns of the hortatory and persuasive tone are sufficiently numerous to\nmake an \"embarrassment of riches\" in a compiler's hands. Not a few songs\nof invitation and awakening are either quoted or mentioned in the\nchapter on \"Old Revival Hymns,\" and many appear among those in the last\nchapter, (on the _Hymns of Wales_;) but the _working_ songs of Christian\nhymnology deserve a special space _as_ such.\n\n\n\"COME HITHER ALL YE WEARY SOULS,\"\n\nSung to \"Federal St.,\" is one of the older soul-winning calls from the\ngreat hymn-treasury of Dr. Watts; and another note of the same sacred\nbard,--\n\n Life is the time to serve the Lord,\n\n--is always coupled with the venerable tune of \"Wells.\"[44] Aged\nChristians are still remembered who were wont to repeat or sing with\nquavering voices the second stanza,--\n\n The living know that they must die,\n But all the dead forgotten lie;\n Their memory and their sense are gone,\n Alike unknowing and unknown.\n\nAnd likewise from the fourth stanza,--\n\n There are no acts of pardon passed\n In the cold grave to which we haste.\n\n[Footnote 44: One of Israel Holroyd's tunes. He was born in England,\nabout 1690, and was both a composer and publisher of psalmody. His chief\ncollection is dated 1746.]\n\n\n\"AND WILL THE JUDGE DESCEND?\"\n\nIs one of Doddridge's monitory hymns, once sung to J.C. Woodman's tune\nof \"State St.\" with the voice of both the Old and New Testaments in the\nlast verse:\n\n Ye sinners, seek His grace\n Whose wrath ye cannot bear;\n Fly to the shelter of His Cross,\n And find Salvation there.\n\nJonathan Call Woodman was born in Newburyport, Mass., July 12, 1813,\nand was a teacher, composer, and compiler. Was organist of St. George's\nChapel, in Flushing, L.I., and in 1858 published _The Musical Casket_.\nDied January, 1894. He wrote \"State St.\" for William B. Bradbury, in\nAugust, 1844.\n\n\n\"HASTEN SINNER, TO BE WISE\"\n\nIs one of the few unforgotten hymns of Thomas Scott, every second line\nrepeating the solemn caution,--\n\n Stay not for tomorrow's sun,\n\n--and every line enforcing its exhortation with a new word, \"To be\nwise,\" \"to implore,\" \"to return,\" and \"to be blest\" were natural\ncumulatives that summoned and wooed the sinner careless and astray. It\nis a finished piece of work, but it owes its longevity less to its\nstructural form than to its spirit. For generations it has been sung to\n\"Pleyel's Hymn.\"\n\nThe Rev. Thomas Scott (not Rev. Thomas Scott the Commentator) was born\nin Norwich, Eng., in 1705, and died at Hupton, in Norfolk, 1776. He was\na Dissenting minister, pastor for twenty-one years--until disabled by\nfeeble health--at Lowestoft in Suffolk. He was the author of--\n\n Angels roll the rock away.\n\n\n\"MUST JESUS BEAR THE CROSS ALONE?\"\n\nThis emotional and appealing hymn still holds its own in the hearts of\nmillions, though probably two hundred years old. It was written by a\nclergyman of the Church of England, the Rev. Thomas Shepherd, Vicar of\nTilbrook, born in 1665. Joining the Nonconformists in 1694, he settled\nfirst in Castle Hill, Nottingham, and afterward in Bocking, Essex, where\nhe remained until his death, January, 1739. He published a selection of\nhis sermons, and _Penitential Cries_, a book of sacred lyrics, some of\nwhich still appear in collections.\n\nThe startling question in the above line is answered with emphasis in\nthe third of the stanza,--\n\n _No_! There's a cross for every one,\n And there's a cross for _me_,\n\n--and this is followed by the song of resolve and triumph,--\n\n The consecrated cross I'll bear,\n Till death shall set me free.\n And then go home my crown to wear,\n For there's a crown for me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n O precious cross! O glorious crown!\n O Resurrection Day!\n Ye angels from the stars flash down\n And bear my soul away!\n\nThe hymn is a personal New Testament. No one who analyzes it and feels\nits Christian vitality will wonder why it has lived so long.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nFor half a century George N. Allen, composer of \"Maitland,\" the music\ninseparable from the hymn, was credited with the authorship of the words\nalso, but his vocal aid to the heart-stirring poem earned him sufficient\npraise. The tune did not meet the hymn till the latter was so old that\nthe real author was mostly forgotten, for Allen wrote the music in 1849;\nbut if the fine stanzas needed any renewing it was his tune that made\nthem new. Since it was published nobody has wanted another.\n\nGeorge Nelson Allen was born in Mansfield, Mass., Sept. 7, 1812, and\nlived at Oberlin, O. It was there that he composed \"Maitland,\" and\ncompiled the _Social and Sabbath Hymn-book_--besides songs for the\n_Western Bell_, published by Oliver Ditson and Co. He died in\nCincinnati, Dec. 9, 1877.\n\n\n\"AWAKE MY SOUL, STRETCH EVERY NERVE!\"\n\nThis most popular of Dr. Doddridge's hymns is also the richest one of\nall in lyrical and spiritual life. It is a stadium song that sounds the\nstarting-note for every young Christian at the outset of his career, and\nthe slogan for every faint Christian on the way.\n\n A _heavenly_ race demands thy zeal,\n And an immortal crown.\n\nLike the \"Coronation\" hymn, it transports the devout singer till he\nfeels only the momentum of the words and forgets whether it is common or\nhallelujah metre that carries him along.\n\n A cloud of witnesses around\n Hold thee in full survey;\n Forget the steps already trod,\n And onward urge thy way!\n\n 'Tis God's all-animating voice\n That calls thee from on high,\n 'Tis His own hand presents the prize\n To thine aspiring eye.\n\nIn all persuasive hymnology there is no more kindling lyric that this.\nAs a field-hymn it is indispensable.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nWhenever and by whomsoever the brave processional known as \"Christmas\"\nwas picked from among the great Handel's Songs and mated with\nDoddridge's lines, the act gave both hymn and tune new reason to endure,\nand all posterity rejoices in the blend. Old \"Christmas\" was originally\none of the melodies in the great Composer's Opera of \"Ciroe\" (Cyrus)\n1738. It was written to Latin words (_Non vi piacque_) and afterwards\nadapted to an English versification of Job 29:15, \"I was eyes to the\nblind.\"\n\nHandel himself became blind at the age of sixty eight (1753).\n\n\n\"THERE IS A GREEN HILL FAR AWAY.\"\n\nWritten in 1848 by Miss Cecil Frances Humphreys, an Irish lady, daughter\nof Major John Humphreys of Dublin. She was born in that city in 1823.\nHer best known name is Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander, her husband being\nthe Rt. Rev. William Alexander, Bishop of Derry. Among her works are\n_Hymns for Little Children_, _Narrative Hymns_, _Hymns Descriptive and\nDevotional_, and _Moral Songs_. Died 1895.\n\n\"There is a _green_ hill\" is poetic license, but the hymn is sweet and\nsympathetic, and almost childlike in its simplicity.\n\n There is a green hill far away\n Without the city wall,\n Where our dear Lord was crucified\n Who died to save us all.\n\n We may not know, we cannot tell\n What pains He had to bear;\n But we believe it was for us\n He hung and suffered there.\n\n[Illustration: George Frederick Handel]\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nThere is no room here to describe them all. Airs and chorals by Berthold\nTours, Pinsuti, John Henry Cornell, Richard Storrs Willis, George C.\nStebbins and Hubert P. Main have been adapted to the words--one or two\nevidently composed for them. It is a hymn that attracts\ntune-makers--literally so commonplace and yet so quiet and tender, with\nsuch a theme and such natural melody of line--but most of the scores\nindicated are choir music rather than congregational. Mr. Stebbins'\ncomposition comes nearest to being the favorite, if one judges by the\nextent and frequency of its use. It can be either partly or wholly\nchoral; and the third stanza makes the refrain--\n\n O dearly, dearly has He loved\n And we must love Him too,\n And trust in His redeeming blood,\n And try His works to do.\n\n\n\"REJOICE AND BE GLAD!\"\n\nThis musical shout of joy, written by Dr. Horatius Bonar, scarcely needs\na new song helper, as did Bishop Heber's famous hymn--not because it is\nbetter than Heber's but because It was wedded at once to a tune worthy\nof it.\n\n Rejoice and be glad! for our King is on high;\n He pleadeth for us on His throne in the sky.\n Rejoice and be glad! for He cometh again;\n He cometh in glory, the Lamb that was slain\n Hallelujah! Amen.\n\nThe hymn was composed in 1874.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe author of the \"English Melody\" (as ascribed in _Gospel Hymns_) is\nsaid to have been John Jenkins Husband, born in Plymouth, Eng., about\n1760. He was clerk at Surrey Chapel and composed several anthems. Came\nto the United States In 1809. Settled in Philadelphia, where he taught\nmusic and was clerk of St. Paul's P.E. Church. Died there in 1825.\n\nHis tune, exactly suited to the hymn, is a true Christian paean. It has\nfew equals as a rouser to a sluggish prayer-meeting--whether sung to\nBonar's words or those of Rev. William Paton Mackay (1866)--\n\n We praise Thee, O God, for the Son of Thy love,\n\n--with the refrain of similar spirit in both hymns--\n\n Hallelujah! Thine the glory, Hallelujah! Amen,\n Hallelujah! Thine the glory; revive us again;\n\n--or,--\n\n Sound His praises! tell the story of Him who was slain!\n Sound His praises! tell with gladness, \"He liveth again.\"\n\nHusband's tune is supposed to have been written very early in the last\ncentury. Another tune composed by him near the same date to the words--\n\n \"We are on our journey home\n To the New Jerusalem,\"\n\n--is equally musical and animating, and with a vocal range that brings\nout the full strength of choir and congregation.\n\n\n\"COME, SINNER, COME.\"\n\nA singular case of the same tune originating in the brain of both author\nand composer is presented in the history of this hymn of Rev. William\nEllsworth Witter, D.D., born in La Grange, N.Y., Dec. 9, 1854. He wrote\nthe hymn in the autumn of 1878, while teaching a district school near\nhis home. The first line--\n\n While Jesus whispers to you,\n\n--came to him during a brief turn of outdoor work by the roadside and\npresently grew to twenty-four lines. Soon after, Prof. Horatio Palmer,\nknowing Witter to be a verse writer, invited him to contribute a hymn to\na book he had in preparation, and this hymn was sent. Dr. Palmer set it\nto music, it soon entered into several collections, and Mr. Sankey sang\nit in England at the Moody meetings.\n\nDr. Witter gives this curious testimony,\n\n\"While I cannot sing myself, though very fond of music, the hymn sang\nitself to me by the roadside _in almost the exact tune given to it by\nProfessor Palmer_.\" Which proves that Professor Palmer had the feeling\nof the hymn--and that the maker of a true hymn has at least a\nsub-consciousness of its right tune, though he may be neither a musician\nnor a poet.\n\n While Jesus whispers to you,\n Come, sinner, come!\n While we are praying for you,\n Come, sinner, come!\n Now is the time to own Him,\n Come, sinner, come!\n Now is the time to know Him,\n Come, sinner, come!\n\n\n\"ONE MORE DAY'S WORK FOR JESUS.\"\n\nThe writer of this hymn was Miss Anna Warner, one of the well-known\n\"Wetherell Sisters,\" joint authors of _The Wide World_, _Queechy_, and a\nnumerous succession of healthful romances very popular in the middle and\nlater years of the last century. Her own pen name is \"Amy Lothrop,\"\nunder which she has published many religious poems, hymns and other\nvarieties of literary work. She was born in 1820, at Martlaer, West\nPoint, N.Y., where she still resides.\n\n One more day's work for Jesus,\n One less of life for me:\n But heaven is nearer,\n And Christ is dearer\n Than yesterday to me.\n His love and light\n Fill all my soul tonight.\n\n REFRAIN:--\n One more day's work for Jesus, (_ter_)\n One less of life for me.\n\nThe hymn has five stanzas all expressing the gentle fervor of an active\npiety loving service:\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nwas composed by the Rev. Robert Lowry, and first published in _Bright\nJewels_.\n\n\nTHE GOSPEL HYMNS.\n\nThese popular religious songs have been criticised as \"degenerate\npsalmody\" but those who so style them do not seem to consider the need\nthat made them.\n\nThe great majority of mankind can only be reached by missionary methods,\nand in these art and culture do not play a conspicuous part. The\nmultitude could be supplied with technical preaching and technical music\nfor their religious wants, but they would not rise to the bait, whereas\nnothing so soon kindles their better emotions or so surely appeals to\ntheir better nature as even the humblest sympathetic hymn sung to a\nsimple and stirring tune. If the music is unclassical and the hymn crude\nthere is no critical audience to be offended.\n\nThe artless, almost colloquial, words \"of a happily rhymed camp-meeting\nlyric and the wood-notes wild\" of a new melody meet a situation. Moral\nand spiritual lapse makes it necessary at times for religion to put on\nagain her primitive raiment, and be \"a voice crying in the wilderness.\"\n\nBetween the slums and the boulevards live the masses that shape the\ngenerations, and make the state. They are wage-earners who never hear\nthe great composers nor have time to form fine musical and literary\ntastes. The spiritual influences that really reach them are of a very\ndirect and simple kind; and for the good of the church--and the\nnation--it is important that at least this elementary education in the\nschool of Christ should be supplied them.\n\nIt is the popular hymn tunes that speed a reformation. So say history\nand experience. Once in two hundred years a great revival movement may\nproduce a Charles Wesley, but the humbler singers carry the divine fire\nthat quickens religious life in the years between.\n\nAll this is not saying that the gospel hymns, as a whole, are or ever\nprofessed to be suitable for the stated service of the sanctuary. Their\nvery style and movement show exactly what they were made for--to win the\nhearing of the multitude, and put the music of God's praise and Jesus'\nlove into the mouths and hearts of thousands who had been strangers to\nboth. They are the modern lay songs that go with the modern lay sermons.\nThey give voice to the spirit and sentiment of the conference, prayer\nand inquiry meetings, the Epworth League and Christian Endeavor\nmeetings, the temperance and other reform meetings, and of the\nmass-meetings in the cities or the seaside camps.\n\nDuring their evangelistic mission in England and Scotland in 1873,\nDwight L. Moody and Ira D. Sankey used the hymnbook of Philip Phillips,\na compilation entitled _Hallowed Songs_, some of them his own. To these\nMr. Sankey added others of his own composing from time to time which\nwere so enthusiastically received that he published them in a pamphlet.\nThis, with the simultaneous publication in America of the revival\nmelodies of Philip P. Bliss, was the beginning of that series of popular\nhymn-and-tune books, which finally numbered six volumes. Sankey's\n_Sacred Songs and Solos_ combined with Bliss's _Gospel Songs_ were the\nfoundation of the _Gospel Hymns_.\n\nSubjectively their utterances are indicative of ardent piety and\nunquestioning faith, and on the other hand their direct and intimate\nappeal and dramatic address are calculated to affect a throng as if each\nindividual in it was the person meant by the words. The refrain or\nchorus feature is notable in nearly all.\n\nA selection of between thirty and forty of the most characteristic is\nhere given.\n\n\n\"HALLELUJAH! 'TIS DONE.\"\n\nThis is named from its chorus. The song is one of the spontaneous\nthanksgivings in revival meetings that break out at the announcement of\na new conversion.\n\n 'Tis the promise of God full salvation to give\n Unto him who on Jesus His Son will believe,\n Hallelujah! 'tis done; I believe on the Son;\n I am saved by the blood of the crucified One.\n\n Though the pathway be lonely and dangerous too,\n Surely Jesus is able to carry me through--\n Hallelujah! etc.\n\nThe words and music are both by P.P. Bliss.\n\n\nTHE NINETY AND NINE.\n\nThe hymn was written by Mrs. Elizabeth Cecilia Clephane at Melrose,\nScotland, early in 1868. She was born in Edinburgh, June 10, 1830, and\ndied of consumption, Feb. 19, 1869. The little poem was seen by Mr.\nSankey in the _Christian Age_, and thinking it might be useful, he cut\nit out. At an impressive moment in one of the great meetings in\nEdinburgh, Mr. Moody said to him in a quiet aside, \"Sing something.\"\nPrecisely what was wanted for the hour and theme, and for the thought in\nthe general mind, was in Mr. Sankey's vest pocket. But how could it be\nsung without a tune? With a silent prayer for help, the musician took\nout the slip containing Mrs. Clephane's poem, laid it on the little\nreed-organ and began playing, and singing. He had to read the\nunfamiliar words and at the same time make up the music. The tune\ncame--and grew as he went along till he finished the first verse. He\nremembered it well enough to repeat it with the second, and after that\nit was easy to finish the hymn. A new melody was born--in the presence\nof more than a thousand pairs of eyes and ears. It was a feat of\ninvention, of memory, of concentration--and such was the elocution of\nthe trained soloist that not a word was lost. He had a tearful audience\nat the close to reward him; but we can easily credit his testimony,\n\n\"It was the most intense moment of my life.\"\n\nIn a touching interview afterwards, a sister of Mrs. Clephane told Mr.\nSankey the authoress had not lived to see her hymn in print and to know\nof its blessed mission.\n\nThe first six lines give the situation of the lost sheep in the parable\nof that name--\n\n There were ninety and nine that safely lay\n In the shelter of the fold;\n But one was out on the hills away,\n Far off from the gates of gold.\n Away on the mountains wild and bare,\n Away from the tender Shepherd's care.\n\nAnd, after describing the Shepherd's arduous search, the joy at his\nreturn is sketched and spiritualized in the concluding stanza--\n\n But all through the mountains, thunder-riven,\n And up from the rocky steeps\n There arose a cry to the gate of heaven,\n \"Rejoice! I have found my sheep.\"\n And the angels echoed around the Throne,\n \"Rejoice! for the Lord brings back His own.\"\n\n\n\"HOLD THE FORT!\"\n\nThis is named also from its chorus. The historic foundation of the hymn\nwas the flag-signal waved to Gen. G.M. Corse by Gen. Sherman's order\nfrom Kenesaw Mountain to Altoona during the \"March through Georgia,\" in\nOctober, 1863. The flag is still in the possession of A.D. Frankenberry,\none of the Federal Signal-Corps whose message to the besieged General\nsaid, \"Hold the fort! We are coming!\" A visit to the scene of the\nincident inspired P.P. Bliss to write both the words and the music.\n\n Ho! my comrades, see the signal\n Waving in the sky!\n Reinforcements now appearing,\n Victory is nigh.\n \"Hold the fort, for I am coming!\"\n Jesus signals still;\n Wave the answer back to heaven,\n \"By Thy grace we will!\"\n\nThe popularity of the song (it has been translated into several\nlanguages), made it the author's chief memento in many localities. On\nhis monument in Rome, Pennsylvania, is inscribed \"P.P. Bliss--author of\n'Hold the Fort.'\"\n\n\n\"RESCUE THE PERISHING.\"\n\nFew hymns, ancient or modern, have been more useful, or more variously\nused, than this little sermon in song from Luke 14:23, by the blind\npoet, Fanny J. Crosby, (Mrs. Van Alstyne). It is sung not only in the\nchurch prayer-meetings with its spiritual meaning and application, but\nin Salvation Army camps and marches, in mission-school devotions, in\nsocial settlement services, in King's Daughters and Sons of Temperance\nMeetings, and in the rallies of every reform organization that seeks the\nlost and fallen.\n\n Rescue the perishing, care for the dying,\n Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave;\n Weep o'er the erring ones, lift up the fallen,\n Tell them of Jesus, the Mighty to Save.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Down in the human heart crushed by the Tempter,\n Feelings lie buried that grace can restore.\n Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,\n Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.\n\nThe tune is by W.H. Doane, Mus.D., composed in 1870.\n\n\n\"WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS.\"\n\nThe author was a pious gentleman of Dublin, Ireland, who came to Canada\nwhen he was twenty-five. His name was Joseph Scriven, born in Dublin,\n1820, and graduated at Trinity College. The accidental death by drowning\nof his intended bride on the eve of their wedding day, led him to\nconsecrate his life and fortune to the service of Christ. He died in\nCanada, Oct. 10, 1886, (Sankey's _Story of the Gospel Hymns_, pp.\n245-6.)\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music was composed by Charles Crozat Converse, LL.D., musician,\nlawyer, and writer. He was born in Warren, Mass., 1832; a descendant of\nEdward Converse, the friend of Gov. Winthrop and founder of Woburn,\nMass. He pursued musical and other studies in Leipsic and Berlin. His\ncompositions are numerous including concert overtures, symphonies and\nmany sacred and secular pieces. Residence at Highwood, Bergen Co., N.J.\n\nThe hymn is one of the most helpful of the Gospel Collections, and the\nwords and music have strengthened many a weak and failing soul to \"try\nagain.\"\n\n Have we trials and temptations?\n Is there trouble anywhere?\n We should never be discouraged:\n Take it to the Lord in prayer.\n\n\n\"I HEAR THE SAVIOUR SAY.\"\n\nThis is classed with the _Gospel Hymns_, but it was a much-used and\nmuch-loved revival hymn--especially in the Methodist churches--several\nyears before Mr. Moody's great evangelical movement. It was written by\nMrs. Elvina M. Hall (since Mrs. Myers) who was born in Alexandria, Va.,\nin 1818. She composed it in the spring of 1865, while sitting in the\nchoir of the M.E. Church, Baltimore, and the first draft was pencilled\non a fly-leaf of a singing book, _The New Lute of Zion_.\n\n I hear the Saviour say,\n Thy strength indeed is small;\n Child of weakness, watch and pray,\n Find in me thine all in all.\n\nThe music of the chorus helped to fix its words in the common mind, and\nsome idea of the Atonement acceptable, apparently, to both Arminians and\nCalvinists; for Sunday-school children in the families of both, hummed\nthe tune or sang the refrain when alone--\n\n Jesus paid it all,\n All to Him I owe,\n Sin had left a crimson stain;\n He washed it white as snow.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nJohn Thomas Grape, who wrote the music, was born in Baltimore, Md., May\n6, 1833. His modest estimate of his work appears in his remark that he\n\"dabbled\" in music for his own amusement. Few composers have amused\nthemselves with better results.\n\n\n\"TELL ME THE OLD, OLD STORY.\"\n\nMiss Kate Hankey, born about 1846, the daughter of an English banker,\nis the author of this very devout and tender Christian poem, written\napparently in the eighteen-sixties. At least it is said that her little\nvolume, _Heart to Heart_, was published in 1865 or 1866, and this volume\ncontains \"Tell me the Old, Old Story,\" and its answer.\n\nWe have been told that Miss Hankey was recovering from a serious\nillness, and employed her days of convalescence in composing this song\nof devotion, beginning it in January and finishing it in the following\nNovember.\n\nThe poem is very long--a thesaurus of evangelical thoughts, attitudes,\nand moods of faith--and also a magazine of hymns. Four quatrains of it,\nor two eight-line stanzas, are the usual length of a hymnal selection,\nand editors can pick and choose anywhere among its expressive verses.\n\n Tell me the old, old story\n Of unseen things above,\n Of Jesus and His glory,\n Of Jesus and His love.\n\n Tell me the story simply\n As to a little child,\n For I am weak and weary,\n And helpless and defiled.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Tell me the story simply\n That I may take it in--\n That wonderful Redemption,\n God's remedy for sin.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nDr. W.H. Doane was present at the International Conference of the\nY.M.C.A. at Montreal in 1867, and heard the poem read--with tears and in\na broken voice--by the veteran Major-General Russell. It impressed him\nso much that he borrowed and copied it, and subsequently set it to music\nduring a vacation in the White Mountains.\n\nThe poem of fifty stanzas was entitled \"The Story Wanted;\" the sequel or\nanswer to it, by Miss Hankey, was named \"The Story Told.\" This second\nhymn, of the same metre but different accent, was supplied with a tune\nby William Gustavus Fischer.\n\n I love to tell the story\n Of unseen things above,\n Of Jesus and His glory,\n Of Jesus and His love.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I love to tell the story\n Because I know its true;\n It satisfies my longings\n As nothing else can do.\n\n CHORUS.\n I love to tell the story;\n 'Twill be my theme in glory;\n To tell the old, old story\n Of Jesus and his love.\n\nWilliam Gustavus Fischer was born in Baltimore, Md., Oct. 14, 1835. He\nwas a piano-dealer in the firm (formerly) of Gould and Fischer. His\nmelody to the above hymn was written in 1869, and was harmonized the\nnext year by Hubert P. Main.\n\n\nTHE PRODIGAL CHILD.\n\nThis is not only an impressive hymn as sung in sympathetic music, but a\ntouching poem.\n\n Come home! come home!\n You are weary at heart,\n For the way has been dark\n And so lonely and wild--\n O prodigal child,\n Come home!\n\n Come home! Come home!\n For we watch and we wait,\n And we stand at the gate\n While the shadows are piled;\n O prodigal child,\n Come home!\n\nThe author is Mrs. Ellen M.H. Gates, known to the English speaking world\nby her famous poem, \"Your Mission.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nTo \"The Prodigal Child\" was composed by Dr. Doane in 1869 and no hymn\never had a fitter singing ally. All a mother's yearning is in the\nrefrain and cadence.\n\n Come home! Oh, come home!\n\n\n\"LET THE LOWER LIGHTS BE BURNING!\"\n\nAn illustration, recited in Mr. Moody's graphic fashion in one of his\ndiscourses, suggested this hymn to P.P. Bliss.\n\n\"A stormy night on Lake Erie, and the sky pitch dark.\"\n\n'Pilot, are you sure this is Cleveland? There's only one light.'\n\n'Quite sure, Cap'n.'\n\n'Where are the lower lights?'\n\n'Gone out, sir.'\n\n'Can you run in?'\n\n'_We've got to_, Cap'n--or die.'\n\n\"The brave old pilot did his best, but, alas, he missed the channel. The\nboat was wrecked, with a loss of many lives. The lower lights had gone\nout.\n\n\"Brethren, the Master will take care of the great Lighthouse. It is our\nwork to keep the lower lights burning!\"\n\n Brightly beams our Father's mercy\n From His lighthouse evermore;\n But to us He gives the keeping\n Of the lights along the shore.\n\n CHORUS.\n Let the lower lights be burning!\n Send a gleam across the wave;\n Some poor fainting, struggling seaman\n You may rescue, you may save.\n\nBoth words and music--composed in 1871--are by Mr. Bliss. There are\nwakening chords in the tune--and especially the chorus--when the\ncounterpoint is well vocalized; and the effect is more pronounced the\ngreater the symphony of voices. Congregations find a zest in every note.\n\"Hold the Fort\" can be sung in the street. \"Let the Lower Lights be\nBurning\" is at home between echoing walls.\n\nThe use of the song in \"Bethel\" meetings classes it with sailors' hymns.\n\n\n\"SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER.\"\n\nIncluded with the _Gospel Hymns_, but of older date. Rev. William W.\nWalford, a blind English minister, was the author, and it was probably\nwritten about the year 1842. It was recited to Rev. Thomas Salmon,\nCongregational pastor at Coleshill, Eng., who took it down and brought\nit to New York, where it was published in the New York _Observer_.\n\nLittle is known of Mr. Walford save that in his blindness, besides\npreaching occasionally, he employed his mechanical skill in making small\nuseful articles of bone and ivory.\n\nThe tune was composed by W.B. Bradbury in 1859, and first appeared with\nthe hymn in _Cottage Melodies_.\n\n Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer\n That calls me from a world of care,\n And bids me at my Father's throne\n Make all my wants and wishes known.\n In seasons of distress and grief\n My soul has often found relief,\n And oft escaped the tempter's snare\n By thy return, sweet hour of prayer.\n\n\n\"O BLISS OF THE PURIFIED! BLISS OF THE FREE!\"\n\nRev. Francis Bottome, D.D., born in Belper, Derbyshire, Eng., May 26,\n1823, removed to the United States in 1850, and entered the Methodist\nministry. A man of sterling character and exemplary piety. He received\nthe degree of Doctor of Divinity at Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pa. Was\nassistant compiler of several singing books, and wrote original hymns.\nThe above, entitled \"O sing of His mighty love\" was composed by him in\n1869. The last stanza reads,--\n\n O Jesus the Crucified! Thee will I sing,\n My blessed Redeemer, my God and my King!\n My soul, filled with rapture shall shout o'er the grave\n And triumph in death in the Mighty to save.\n\n CHORUS.\n O sing of His mighty love (_ter_)\n Mighty to save!\n\nDr. Bottome returned to England, and died at Tavistock June 29, 1894.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nBradbury's \"Songs of the Beautiful\" (in _Fresh Laurels_). The hymn was\nset to this chorus in 1871.\n\n\n\"WHAT SHALL THE HARVEST BE?\"\n\nVery popular in England. Mr. Sankey in his _Story of the Gospel Hymns_\nrelates at length the experience of Rev. W.O. Lattimore, pastor of a\nlarge church in Evanston, Ill., who was saved to Christian manhood and\nusefulness by this hymn. It has suffered some alterations, but its\noriginal composition was Mrs. Emily Oakey's work. The Parables of the\nSower and of the Tares may have been in her mind when she wrote the\nlines in 1850, but more probably it was the text in Gal. 6:7--\n\n Sowing the seed by the daylight fair,\n Sowing the seed by the noonday glare,\n Sowing the seed by the fading light,\n Sowing the seed in the solemn night.\n O, what shall the harvest be?\n\nLattimore, the man whose history was so strangely linked with this hymn,\nentered the army in 1861, a youth of eighteen with no vices, but when\npromoted to first lieutenant he learned to drink in the officers' mess.\nThe habit so contracted grew upon him till when the war was over, though\nhe married and tried to lead a sober life, he fell a victim to his\nappetite, and became a physical wreck. One day in the winter of 1876 he\nfound himself in a half-drunken condition, in the gallery of Moody's\nTabernacle, Chicago. Discovering presently that he had made a mistake,\nhe rose to go out, but Mr. Sankey's voice chained him. He sat down and\nheard the whole of the thrilling hymn from beginning to end. Then he\nstumbled out with the words ringing in his ears.\n\n Sowing the seed of a lingering pain,\n Sowing the seed of a maddened brain,\n Sowing the seed of a tarnished name,\n Sowing the seed of Eternal shame.\n O, what shall the harvest be?\n\nIn the saloon, where he went to drown the awakenings of remorse, those\nwords stood in blazing letters on every bottle and glass. The voice of\nGod in that terrible song of conviction forced him back to the\nTabernacle, with his drink untasted. He went into the inquiry meeting\nwhere he found friends, and was led to Christ. His wife and child, from\nwhom he had long been exiled, were sent for and work was found for him\nto do. A natural eloquence made him an attractive and efficient helper\nin the meetings, and he was finally persuaded to study for the ministry.\nHis faithful pastorate of twenty years in Evanston ended with his death\nin 1899.\n\nMrs. Emily Sullivan Oakey was an author and linguist by profession, and\nthough in her life of nearly fifty-four years she \"never enjoyed a day\nof good health,\" she earned a grateful memory. Born in Albany, N.Y.,\nOct. 8, 1829, she was educated at the Albany Female Academy, and fitted\nherself for the position of teacher of languages and English literature\nin the same school, which she honored by her service while she lived.\nHer contributions to the daily press and to magazine literature were\nnumerous, but she is best known by her remarkable hymn. Her death\noccurred on the 11th of May, 1883.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_,\n\nBy P.P. Bliss, is one of that composer's tonal successes. The march of\nthe verses with their recurrent words is so automatic that it would\ninevitably suggest to him the solo and its organ-chords; and the chorus\nwith its sustained soprano note dominating the running concert adds the\nlast emphasis to the solemn repetition. The song with its warning cry\nowes no little of its power to this choral appendix--\n\n Gathered in time or eternity,\n Sure, ah sure will the harvest be.\n\n\n\"O THINK OF THE HOME OVER THERE.\"\n\nA hymn of Rev. D.W.C. Huntington, suggested by Ps. 55:6. It was a\nfavorite from the first.\n\nRev. DeWitt Clinton Huntington was born at Townshend, Vt., Apr. 27,\n1830. He graduated at the Syracuse University, and received the degrees\nof D.D. and LL.D. from Genesee College. Preacher, instructor and\nauthor--Removed to Lincoln, Nebraska.\n\n O think of the home over there,\n By the side of the river of light,\n Where the saints all immortal and fair\n Are robed in their garments of white.\n Over there, (_rep_)\n\n O think of the friends over there,\n Who before us the journey have trod,\n Of the songs that they breathe on the air,\n In their home in the palace of God.\n Over there. (_rep_)\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe melody was composed by Tullius Clinton O'Kane, born in Delaware, O.,\nMarch 10, 1830, a hymnist and musician. It is a flowing tune, with sweet\nchords, and something of the fugue feature in the chorus as an\naccessory. The voices of a multitude in full concord make a building\ntremble with it.\n\n\n\"WHEN JESUS COMES.\"\n\n Down life's dark vale we wander\n Till Jesus comes;\n We watch and wait and wonder\n Till Jesus comes.\n\nBoth words and music are by Mr. Bliss. A relative of his family, J.S.\nEllsworth, says the song was written in Peoria, Illinois, in 1872, and\nwas suggested by a conversation on the second coming of Christ, a\nsubject very near his heart. The thought lingered in his mind, and as he\ncame down from his room, soon after, the verses and notes came to him\nsimultaneously on the stairs. Singing them over, he seized pencil and\npaper, and in a few minutes fixed hymn and tune in the familiar harmony\nso well known.\n\n No more heart-pangs nor sadness\n When Jesus comes;\n All peace and joy and gladness\n When Jesus comes.\n\nThe choral abounds in repetition, and is half refrain, but among all\nGospel Hymns remarkable for their tone-delivery this is unsurpassed in\nthe swing of its rhythm.\n\n All joy his loved ones bringing\n When Jesus comes.\n All praise thro' heaven ringing\n When Jesus comes.\n All beauty bright and vernal\n When Jesus comes.\n All glory grand, eternal\n When Jesus comes.\n\n\n\"TO THE WORK, TO THE WORK.\"\n\nOne of Fanny Crosby's most animating hymns--with Dr. W.H. Doane's full\npart harmony to re-enforce its musical accent. Mr. Sankey says, \"I sang\nit for the first time in the home of Mr. and Mrs. J.B. Cornell at Long\nBranch. The servants gathered from all parts of the house while I was\nsinging, and looked into the parlor where I was seated. When I was\nthrough one of them said, 'That is the finest hymn I have heard for a\nlong time,' I felt that this was a test case, and if the hymn had such\npower over those servants it would be useful in reaching other people as\nwell; so I published it in the _Gospel Hymns_ in 1875, where it became\none of the best work-songs for our meetings that we had.\" (_Story of\nthe Gospel Hymns_.)\n\nThe hymn, written in 1870, was first published in 1871 in \"_Pure\nGold_\"--a book that had a sale of one million two hundred thousand\ncopies.\n\n To the work! to the work! there is labor for all,\n For the Kingdom of darkness and error shall fall,\n And the name of Jehovah exalted shall be,\n In the loud-swelling chorus, \"Salvation is free!\"\n\n CHORUS.\n Toiling on, toiling on, toiling on, toiling on! (_rep_)\n Let us hope and trust, let us watch and pray,\n And labor till the Master comes.\n\n\n\"O WHERE ARE THE REAPERS?\"\n\nMatt. 13:30 is the text of this lyric from the pen of Eben E. Rexford.\n\n Go out in the by-ways, and search them all,\n The wheat may be there though the weeds are tall;\n Then search in the highway, and pass none by,\n But gather them all for the home on high.\n\n CHORUS.\n Where are the reapers? O who will come,\n And share in the glory of the harvest home?\n O who will help us to garner in\n The sheaves of good from the fields of sin?\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nHymn and tune are alike. The melody and harmony by Dr. George F. Root\nhave all the eager trip and tread of so many of the gospel hymns, and\nof so much of his music, and the lines respond at every step. Any other\ncomposer could not have escaped the compulsion of the final spondees,\nand much less the author of \"Tramp, Tramp, Tramp,\" and all the best\nmartial song-tunes of the great war. In this case neither words nor\nnotes can say to the other, \"We have piped unto you and ye have not\ndanced,\" but a little caution will guard too enthusiastic singing\nagainst falling into the drum-rhythm, and travestying a sacred piece.\n\nEben Eugene Rexford was born in Johnsburg, N.Y., July 16, 1841, and has\nbeen a writer since he was fourteen years old. He is the author of\nseveral popular songs, as \"Silver Threads Among the Gold,\" \"Only a Pansy\nBlossom\" etc., and many essays and treatises on flowers, of which he is\npassionately fond.\n\n\n\"IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL.\"\n\nHoratio Gates Spafford, the writer of this hymn, was a lawyer, a native\nof New York state, born Oct. 30, 1828. While connected with an\ninstitution in Chicago, as professor of medical jurisprudence, he lost a\ngreat part of his fortune by the great fire in that city. This disaster\nwas followed by the loss of his children on the steamer, Ville de Havre,\nNov. 22, 1873. He seems to have been a devout Christian, for he wrote\nhis hymn of submissive faith towards the end of the same year--\n\n When peace like a river attendeth my way,\n When sorrows like sea-billows roll--\n Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,\n \"It is well, it is well with my soul.\"\n\nA friend of Spafford who knew his history read this hymn while repining\nunder an inferior affliction of his own. \"If he can feel like that after\nsuffering what he has suffered,\" he said, \"I will cease my complaints.\"\n\nIt may not have been the weight of Mr. Spafford's sorrows wearing him\ndown, but one would infer some mental disturbance in the man seven or\neight years later. \"In 1881\" [writes Mr. Hubert P. Main] \"he went to\nJerusalem under the hallucination that he was a second Messiah--and died\nthere on the seventh anniversary of his landing in Palestine, Sept. 5,\n1888.\" The aberrations of an over-wrought mind are beckonings to God's\ncompassion. When reason wanders He takes the soul of His helpless child\ninto his own keeping--and \"it is well.\"\n\nThe tune to Spafford's hymn is by P.P. Bliss; a gentle, gliding melody\nthat suits the mood of the words.\n\n\n\"WAITING AND WATCHING FOR ME.\"\n\nWritten by Mrs. Marianne Farningham Hearn, born in Kent, Eng., Dec. 17,\n1834. The hymn was first published in the fall of 1864 in the _London\nChurch World_. Its unrhythmical first line--\n\n When mysterious whispers are floating about,\n\n--was replaced by the one now familiar--\n\n When my final farewell to the world I have said,\n And gladly lain down to my rest,\n When softly the watchers shall say, \"He is dead,\"\n And fold my pale hands on my breast,\n And when with my glorified vision at last\n The walls of that City I see,\n Will any one there at the Beautiful Gate\n Be waiting and watching for me?\n\nMrs. Hearn--a member of the Baptist denomination--has long been the\neditor of the (English) _Sunday School Times_, but her literary work has\nbeen more largely in connection with the _Christian World_ newspaper of\nwhich she has been a staff-member since its foundation.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe long lines, not easily manageable for congregational singing, are\nwisely set by Mr. Bliss to duet music. There is a weighty thought in the\nhymn for every Christian, and experience has shown that a pair of good\nsingers can make it very affecting, but the only use of the repeat, by\nway of a chorus, seems to be to give the miscellaneous voices a brief\nchance to sing.\n\n\n\"HE WILL HIDE ME.\"\n\n(Isa. 49:2.)\n\nMiss Mary Elizabeth Servoss, the author of this trustful hymn, was born\nin Schenectady, N.Y., Aug. 22, 1849. When a very young girl her\nadmiration of Fanny Crosby's writings, and the great and good service\nthey were doing in the world, inspired her with a longing to resemble\nher. Though her burden was as real, it was not like the other's, and her\nopportunities for religious meditation and literary work were fewer than\nthose of the elder lady, but the limited number of hymns she has written\nhave much of the spirit and beauty of their model.\n\nProvidence decreed for her a life of domestic care and patient waiting.\nFor eighteen years she was the constant attendant of a disabled\ngrandmother, and long afterwards love and duty made her the home nurse\nduring her mother's protracted illness and the last sickness of her\nfather, until both parents passed away.\n\nFrom her present home in Edeson, Ill., some utterances of her chastened\nspirit have found their way to the public, and been a gospel of\nblessing. Besides \"He Will Hide Me\" other hymns of Miss Servoss are\n\"Portals of Light,\" \"He Careth,\" \"Patiently Enduring,\" and \"Gates of\nPraise,\" the last being the best known.\n\n When the storms of life are raging.\n Tempests wild on sea and land,\n I will seek a place of refuge\n In the shadow of God's hand.\n\n CHORUS.\n He will hide me, He will hide me,\n Where no harm can e'er betide me,\n He will hide me, safely hide me\n In the shadow of His hand.\n\n * * * * *\n\n So while here the cross I'm bearing,\n Meeting storms and billows wild,\n Jesus for my soul is caring,\n Naught can harm His Father's child.\n He will hide me, etc.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nAn animating choral in nine-eight tempo, with a swinging movement and\nfugue chorus, is rather florid for the hymn, but undeniably musical. Mr.\nJames McGranahan was the composer. He was born in Adamsville, Pa., July\n4, 1840. His education was acquired mostly at the public schools, and\nboth in general knowledge and in musical accomplishments it may be said\nof him that he is \"self-made.\"\n\nMusic was born in him, and at the age of nineteen, with some valuable\nhelp from men like Bassini, Webb, Root and Zerrahn, he had studied to so\ngood purpose that he taught music classes himself. This talent, joined\nto the gift of a very sweet tenor voice, made him the natural successor\nof the lamented Bliss, and, with Major D.W. Whittle, he entered on a\ncareer of gospel work, making between 1881 and 1885 two successful tours\nof England, Scotland and Ireland, and through the chief American\ncities.\n\nAmong his publications are the _Male Chorus Book_, _Songs of the Gospel_\nand the _Gospel Male Choir_.\n\nResides at Kinsman, O.\n\n\n\"REVIVE THY WORK, O LORD.\"\n\n(Heb. 3:2.)\n\nThe supposed date of the hymn is 1860; the author, Albert Midlane. He\nwas born at Newport on the Isle of Wight, Jan. 23, 1825 a business man,\nbut, being a Sunday-school teacher, he was prompted to write verses for\nchildren. The habit grew upon him till he became a frequent and\nacceptable hymn-writer, both for juvenile and for general use. English\ncollections have at least three hundred credited to him.\n\n Revive Thy work, O Lord,\n Thy mighty arm make bare,\n Speak with the voice that wakes the dead,\n And make Thy people hear.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nMusic and words together make a song-litany alive with all the old\npsalm-tune unction and the new vigor; and both were upon Mr. McGranahan\nwhen he wrote the choral. It is one of his successes.\n\n Revive thy work, O Lord,\n Exalt Thy precious name,\n And by the Holy Ghost our love\n For Thee and Thine inflame.\n\n REFRAIN.\n Revive Thy work, O Lord,\n And give refreshing showers;\n The glory shall be all Thine own,\n The blessing shall be ours.\n\n\n\"WHERE IS MY WANDERING BOY TO-NIGHT?\"\n\nThis remarkable composition--words and music by Rev. Robert Lowry--has a\nrecord among sacred songs like that of \"The Prodigal Son\" among\nparables.\n\nA widowed lady of culture, about forty years of age, who was an\naccomplished vocalist, had ceased to sing, though her sweet voice was\nstill in its prime. The cause was her sorrow for her runaway boy. She\nhad not heard from him for five years. While spending a week with\nfriends in a city distant from home, her hidden talent was betrayed by\nthe friends to the pastor of their church, where a revival was in\nprogress, and persuasion that seemed to put a duty upon her finally\nprocured her consent to sing a solo.\n\nThe church was crowded. With a force and feeling that can easily be\nguessed she sang \"Where Is My Boy Tonight?\" and finished the first\nstanza. She began the second,--\n\n Once he was pure as morning dew,\n As he knelt at his mother's knee,\n No face was so bright, no heart more true,\n And none were so sweet as he;\n\n--and as the congregation caught up the refrain,--\n\n O where is my boy tonight?\n O where is my boy tonight?\n My heart overflows, for I love him he knows,\n O where is my boy tonight?\n\n--a young man who had been sitting in a back seat made his way up the\naisle and sobbed, \"Mother, I'm here!\" The embrace of that mother and her\nlong-lost boy turned the service into a general hallelujah. At the\ninquiry meeting that night there were many souls at the Mercy Seat who\nnever knelt there before--and the young wanderer was one.\n\n[Illustration: Philip Doddridge, D.D.]\n\nMr. Sankey, when in California with Mr. Moody, sang this hymn in one of\nthe meetings and told the story of a mother in the far east who had\ncommissioned him to search for her missing son. By a happy providence\nthe son was in the house--and the story and the song sent him home\nrepentant.\n\nAt another time Mr. Sankey sang the same hymn from the steps of a\nsnow-bound train, and a man between whose father and himself had been\ntrouble and a separation, was touched, and returned to be reconciled\nafter an absence of twenty years.\n\nAt one evening service in Stanberry, Mo., the singing of the hymn by the\nleader of the choir led to the conversion of one boy who was present,\nand whose parents were that night praying for him in an eastern state,\nand inspired such earnest prayer in the hearts of two other runaway\nboys' parents that the same answer followed.\n\nThere would not be room in a dozen pages to record all the similar\nsaving incidents connected with the singing of \"Where Is My Wandering\nBoy?\" The rhetoric of love is strong in every note and syllable of the\nsolo, and the tender chorus of voices swells the song to heaven like an\nantiphonal prayer.\n\nStrange to say, Dr. Lowry set lightly by his hymns and tunes, and\ndeprecated much mention of them though he could not deny their success.\nAn active Christian since seventeen years of age, through his early\npulpit service, his six years' professorship, and the long pastorate in\nPlainfield, N.J., closed by his death, he considered preaching to be his\nsupreme function as it certainly was his first love. Music was to him \"a\nside-issue,\" an \"efflorescence,\" and writing a hymn ranked far below\nmaking and delivering a sermon. \"I felt a sort of meanness when I began\nto be known as a composer,\" he said. And yet he was the author of a hymn\nand tune which \"has done more to bring back wandering boys than any\nother\" ever written.[45]\n\n[Footnote 45: \"Where Is My Boy Tonight\" was composed for a book of\ntemperance hymns, _The Fountain of Song_, 1877.]\n\n\n\"ETERNITY.\"\n\nThis is the title and refrain of both Mrs. Ellen M.H. Gates' impressive\npoem and its tune.\n\n O the clanging bells of Time!\n Night and day they never cease;\n We are weaned with their chime,\n For they do not bring us peace.\n And we hush our hearts to hear,\n And we strain our eyes to see\n If thy shores are drawing near\n Eternity! Eternity!\n\nSkill was needed to vocalize this great word, but the ear of Mr. Bliss\nfor musical prosody did not fail to make it effective. After the\nbeautiful harmony through the seven lines, the choral reverently softens\nunder the rallentando of the closing bars, and dwelling on the\nawe-inspiring syllables, solemnly dies away.\n\n\nTRIUMPH BY AND BY.\n\nThis rally-song of the Christian arena is wonderfully stirring,\nespecially in great meetings, for it sings best in full choral volume.\n\n The prize is set before us,\n To win His words implore us,\n The eye of God is o'er us\n From on high.\n His loving tones are falling\n While sin is dark, appalling,\n 'Tis Jesus gently calling;\n He is nigh!\n\n CHORUS.\n By and by we shall meet Him,\n By and by we shall greet Him,\n And with Jesus reign in glory,\n By and by!\n\n We'll follow where He leadeth,\n We'll pasture where He feedeth,\n We'll yield to Him who pleadeth\n From on high.\n Then nought from Him shall sever,\n Our hope shall brighten ever\n And faith shall fail us never;\n He is nigh.\n\n CHORUS-- By and by, etc.\n\nDr. Christopher Ruby Blackall, the author of the hymn, was born in\nAlbany, N.Y., Sept. 18, 1830. He was a surgeon in the Civil War, and in\nmedical practice fifteen years, but afterwards became connected with the\nAmerican Baptist Publication Society as manager of one of its branches.\nHe has written several Sunday-school songs set to music by W.H. Doane.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_,\n\nBy Horatio R. Palmer is exactly what the hymn demands. The range\nscarcely exceeds an octave, but with the words \"From on high,\" the\nstroke of the soprano on upper D carries the feeling to unseen summits,\nand verifies the title of the song. From that note, through melody and\nchorus the \"Triumph by and by\" rings clear.\n\n\n\"NOT HALF HAS EVER BEEN TOLD\"\n\nThis is emotional, but every word and note is uplifting, and creates the\nmood for religious impressions. The writer, Rev. John Bush Atchison, was\nborn at Wilson, N.Y., Feb. 18, 1840, and died July 15, 1882.\n\n I have read of a beautiful city\n Far away in the kingdom of God,\n I have read how its walls are of jasper,\n How its streets are all golden and broad;\n In the midst of the street is Life's River\n Clear as crystal and pure to behold,\n But not half of that city's bright glory\n To mortals has ever been told.\n\nThe chorus (twice sung)--\n\n Not half has been told,\n\n--concludes with repeat of the two last lines of this first stanza.\n\nMr. Atchison was a Methodist clergyman who composed several good hymns.\n\"Behold the Stone is Rolled Away,\" \"O Crown of Rejoicing,\" and \"Fully\nPersuaded,\" indicate samples of his work more or less well-known. \"Not\nHalf Has Ever Been Told\" was written in 1875.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nDr. Otis F. Presbry, the composer, was a young farmer of York,\nLivingston Co., N.Y., born there the 20th of December, 1820. Choice of a\nprofessional life led him to Berkshire Medical College, where he\ngraduated in 1847. In after years his natural love of musical studies\ninduced him to give his time to compiling and publishing religious\ntunes, with hymns more especially for Sunday-schools.\n\nHe became a composer and wrote the melody to Atchison's words in 1877,\nwhich was arranged by a blind musician of Washington, D.C., J.W.\nBischoff by name, with whom he had formed a partnership. The solo is\nlong--would better, perhaps, have been four-line instead of eight--but\nwell sung, it is a flight of melody that holds an assembly, and touches\nhearts.\n\nDr. Presbry's best known book was _Gospel Bells_ (1883), the joint\nproduction of himself, Bischoff, and Rev. J.E. Rankin. He died Aug. 20,\n1901.\n\n\n\"COME.\"\n\nOne of the most characteristic (both words and music) of the _Gospel\nHymns_--\"Mrs. James Gibson Johnson\" is the name attached to it as its\nauthor, though we have been unable to trace and verify her claim.\n\n O, word of words the sweetest,\n O, words in which there lie\n All promise, all fulfillment,\n And end of mystery;\n Lamenting or rejoicing,\n With doubt or terror nigh,\n I hear the \"Come\" of Jesus,\n And to His cross I fly.\n\n CHORUS.\n Come, come--\n Weary, heavy-laden, come, O come to me.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_,\n\nComposed by James McGranahan, delivers the whole stanza in soprano or\ntenor solo, when the alto, joining the treble, leads off the refrain in\nduet, the male voices striking alternate notes until the full harmony in\nthe last three bars. The style and movement of the chorus are somewhat\nsuggestive of a popular glee, but the music of the duet is flexible and\nsweet, and the bass and tenor progress with it not in the\nride-and-tie-fashion but marking time with the title-syllable.\n\nThe contrast between the spiritual and the intellectual effect of the\nhymn and its wakeful tune is illustrated by a case in Baltimore. While\nMoody and Sankey were doing their gospel work in that city, a man, who,\nit seems, had brought a copy of the _Gospel Hymns_, walked out of one of\nthe meetings after hearing this hymn-tune, and on reaching home, tore\nout the leaves that contained the song and threw them into the fire,\nsaying he had \"never heard such twaddle\" in all his life.\n\nThe sequel showed that he had been too hasty. The hymn would not leave\nhim. After hearing it night and day in his mind till he began to\nrealize what it meant, he went to Mr. Moody and told him he was \"a vile\nsinner\" and wanted to know how he could \"come\" to Christ. The divine\ninvitation was explained, and the convicted man underwent a vital\nchange. His converted opinion of the hymn was quite as remarkably\ndifferent. He declared it was \"the sweetest one in the book.\" (_Story of\nthe Gospel Hymns_.)\n\n\n\"ALMOST PERSUADED.\"\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Brundage tells the origin of this hymn. In a sermon\npreached by him many years ago, the closing words were:\n\n\"He who is almost persuaded is almost saved, but to be almost saved is\nto be entirely lost.\" Mr. Bliss, being in the audience, was impressed\nwith the thought, and immediately set about the composition of what\nproved one of his most popular songs, deriving his inspiration from the\nsermon of his friend, Mr. Brundage. _Memoir of Bliss_.\n\n Almost persuaded now to believe,\n Almost persuaded Christ to receive;\n Seems now some soul to say\n \"Go Spirit, go thy way,\n Some more convenient day\n On Thee I'll call.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n Almost persuaded--the harvest is past!\n\nBoth hymn and tune are by Mr. Bliss--and the omission of a chorus is in\nproper taste. This revival piece brings the eloquence of sense and\nsound to bear upon the conscience in one monitory pleading. Incidents in\nthis country and in England related in Mr. Sankey's book, illustrate its\npower. It has a convicting and converting history.\n\n\n\"MY AIN COUNTREE.\"\n\nThis hymn was written by Miss Mary Augusta Lee one Sabbath day in 1860\nat Bowmount, Croton Falls, N.Y., and first published in the _New York\nObserver_, Dec, 1861. The authoress had been reading the story of John\nMacduff who, with his wife, left Scotland for the United States, and\naccumulated property by toil and thrift in the great West. In her\nleisure after the necessity for hard work was past, the Scotch woman\ngrew homesick and pined for her \"ain countree.\" Her husband, at her\nrequest, came east and settled with her in sight of the Atlantic where\nshe could see the waters that washed the Scotland shore. But she still\npined, and finally to save her life, John Macduff took her back to the\nheather hills of the mother-land, where she soon recovered her health\nand spirits.\n\n I am far from my hame an' I'm weary aften whiles\n For the langed-for hame-bringing an' my Father's welcome smiles.\n I'll ne'er be fu' content until mine eyes do see\n The shinin' gates o' heaven an' mine ain countree.\n\n The airt' is flecked wi' flowers mony-tinted, frish an' gay,\n The birdies warble blithely, for my Father made them sae,\n But these sights an' these soun's will naething be to me\n When I hear the angels singin' in my ain countree.\n\nMiss Lee was born in Croton Falls in 1838, and was of Scotch descent,\nand cared for by her grandfather and a Scotch nurse, her mother dying in\nher infancy. In 1870 she became the wife of a Mr. Demarest, and her\nmarried life was spent in Passaic, N.J., until their removal to\nPasadena, Cal., in hope of restoring her failing health. She died at Los\nAngeles, Jan. 8, 1888.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_\n\nIs an air written in 1864 in the Scottish style by Mrs. Ione T. Hanna,\nwife of a banker in Denver, Colo., and harmonized for choral use by\nHubert P. Main in 1873. Its plaintive sweetness suits the words which\nprobably inspired it. The tone and metre of the hymn were natural to the\nyoung author's inheritance; a memory of her grandfather's home-land\nmelodies, with which he once crooned \"little Mary\" to sleep.\n\nSung as a closing hymn, \"My ain countree\" sends the worshipper away with\na tender, unworldly thought that lingers.\n\nMrs. Demarest wrote an additional stanza in 1881 at the request of Mr.\nMain.\n\nSome really good gospel hymns and tunes among those omitted in this\nchapter will cry out against the choice that passed them by. Others are\nof the more ephemeral sort, the phenomena (and the demand) of a\ngeneration. Carols of pious joy with inordinate repetition, choruses\nthat surprise old lyrics with modern thrills, ballads of ringing sound\nand slender verse, are the spray of tuneful emotion that sparkles on\nevery revival high-tide, but rarely leaves floodmarks that time will not\nerase. Religious songs of the demonstrative, not to say sensational,\nkind spring impromptu from the conditions of their time--and give place\nto others equally spontaneous when the next spiritual wave sweeps by.\nTheir value lingers in the impulse their novelty gave to the life of\nsanctuary worship, and in the Christian characters their emotional power\nhelped into being.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nHYMNS, FESTIVAL AND OCCASIONAL.\n\n\n_CHRISTMAS._\n\n\n\"ADESTE FIDELES.\"\n\nThis hymn is of doubtful authorship, by some assigned to as late a date\nas 1680, and by others to the 13th century as one of the Latin poems of\nSt. Bonaventura, Bishop of Albano, who was born at Bagnarea in Tuscany,\nA.D. 1221. He was a learned man, a Franciscan friar, one of the greatest\nteachers and writers of his church, and finally a cardinal. Certainly\nRoman Catholic in its origin, whoever was its author, it is a Christian\nhymn qualified in every way to be sung by the universal church.\n\n Adeste, fideles\n Laeti triumphantes,\n Venite, venite in Bethlehem;\n Natum videte Regem angelorum.\n\n CHORUS.\n Venite, adoremus,\n Venite, adoremus!\n Venite, adoremus Dominum.\n\nThis has been translated by Rev. Frederick Oakeley (1808-1880) and by\nRev. Edward Caswall (1814-1878) the version of the former being the one\nin more general use. The ancient hymn is much abridged in the hymnals,\nand even the translations have been altered and modernized in the three\nor four stanzas commonly sung. Caswall's version renders the first line\n\"Come hither, ye faithful,\" literally construing the Latin words.\n\nThe following is substantially Oakeley's English of the \"Adeste,\nfideles.\"\n\n O come all ye faithful\n Joyful and triumphant,\n To Bethlehem hasten now with glad accord;\n Come and behold Him,\n Born the King of Angels.\n\n CHORUS.\n O come, let us adore Him,\n O come, let us adore Him,\n O come, let us adore Him,\n Christ, the Lord.\n\n Sing choirs of angels,\n Sing in exultation\n Through Heaven's high arches be your praises poured;\n Now to our God be\n Glory in the highest!\n O come, let us adore Him!\n\n Yea, Lord, we bless Thee,\n Born for our salvation\n Jesus, forever be Thy name adored!\n Word of the Father\n Now in flesh appearing;\n O come, let us adore Him!\n\nThe hymn with its primitive music as chanted in the ancient churches,\nwas known as \"The Midnight Mass,\" and was the processional song of the\nreligious orders on their way to the sanctuaries where they gathered in\npreparation for the Christmas morning service. The modern tune--or\nrather the tune in modern use--is the one everywhere familiar as the\n\"Portuguese Hymn.\" (See page 205.)\n\n\nMILTON'S HYMN TO THE NATIVITY.\n\n It was the winter wild\n While the Heavenly Child\n All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lies.\n Nature in awe of Him\n Had doffed her gaudy trim\n With her great Master so to sympathize.\n\n * * * * *\n\n No war nor battle sound\n Was heard the world around.\n The idle spear and shield were high uphung.\n The hooked chariot stood\n Unstained with hostile blood,\n The trumpets spake not to the armed throng,\n And Kings sat still with awful eye\n As if they knew their Sovereign Lord was by.\n\nThis exalted song--the work of a boy of scarcely twenty-one--is a Greek\node in form, of two hundred and sixteen lines in twenty-seven strophes.\nSome of its figures and fancies are more to the taste of the seventeenth\ncentury than to ours, but it is full of poetic and Christian\nsublimities, and its high periods will be heard in the Christmas hymnody\nof coming centuries, though it is not the fashion to sing it now.\n\nJohn Milton, son and grandson of John Miltons, was born in Breadstreet,\nLondon, Dec. 9, 1608, fitted for the University in St. Paul's school,\nand studied seven years at Cambridge. His parents intended him for the\nchurch, but he chose literature as a profession, travelled and made\ndistinguished friendships in Italy, Switzerland and France, and when\nlittle past his majority was before the public as a poet, author of the\nOde to the Nativity, of a Masque, and of many songs and elegies. In\nlater years he entered political life under the stress of his Puritan\nsympathies, and served under Cromwell and his successor as Latin\nSecretary of State through the time of the Commonwealth. While in public\nduty he became blind, but in his retirement composed \"Paradise Lost and\nParadise Regained.\" Died in 1676.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nIn the old \"Carmina Sacra\" a noble choral (without name except \"No war\nnor battle sound\") well interprets portions of the 4th and 5th stanzas\nof the great hymn, but replaces the line--\n\n \"The idle spear and shield were high uphung.\"\n\n--with the more modern and less figurative--\n\n \"No hostile chiefs to furious combat ran.\"\n\nThree stanzas are also added, by the Rev. H.O. Dwight, missionary to\nConstantinople. The substituted line, which is also, perhaps, the\ncomposition of Mr. Dwight, rhymes with--\n\n \"His reign of peace upon the earth began,\"\n\n--and as it is not un-Miltonic, few singers have ever known that it was\nnot Milton's own.\n\nDr. John Knowles Paine, Professor of Music at Harvard University, and\nauthor of the Oratorio of \"St. Peter,\" composed a cantata to the great\nChristmas Ode of Milton, probably about 1868.\n\nProfessor Paine died Apr. 25, 1906.\n\nIt is worth noting that John Milton senior, the great poet's father, was\na skilled musician and a composer of psalmody. The old tunes \"York\" and\n\"Norwich,\" in Ravenscroft's collection and copied from it in many early\nNew England singing-books, are supposed to be his.\n\nThe Miltons were an old Oxfordshire Catholic family, and John, the\npoet's father, was disinherited for turning Protestant, but he prospered\nin business, and earned the comfort of a country gentleman. He died,\nvery aged, in May, 1646, and his son addressed a Latin poem (\"Ad\nPatrem\") to his memory.\n\n\n\"HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SING.\"\n\nThis hymn of Charles Wesley, dating about 1730, was evidently written\nwith the \"Adeste Fideles\" in mind, some of the stanzas, in fact, being\nalmost like translations of it. The form of the two first lines was\noriginally--\n\n Hark! how all the welkin rings,\n \"Glory to the King of Kings!\"\n\n--but was altered thirty years later by Rev. Martin Madan (1726-1790)\nto--\n\n Hark! the herald angels sing\n Glory to the new-born King!\n\nOther changes by the same hand modified the three following stanzas, and\na fifth stanza was added by John Wesley--\n\n Hail the heavenly Prince of Peace!\n Hail the Sun of Righteousness!\n Light and life to all He brings,\n Ris'n with healing in His wings.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Mendelssohn\" is the favorite musical interpreter of the hymn. It is a\nnoble and spirited choral from Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy's cantata,\n\"Gott ist Licht.\"\n\n\n\"JOY TO THE WORLD, THE LORD IS COME!\"\n\nThis inspirational lyric of Dr. Watts never grows old. It was written in\n1719.\n\n Joy to the world! the Saviour reigns!\n Let men their songs employ\n While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains\n Repeat the sounding joy.\n\nDr. Edward Hodges (1796-1867) wrote an excellent psalm-tune to it which\nis still in occasional use, but the music united to the hymn in the\npopular heart is \"Antioch,\" an adaptation from Handel's Messiah. This\ncompanionship holds unbroken from hymnal to hymnal and has done so for\nsixty or seventy years; and, in spite of its fugue, the tune--apparently\nby some magic of its own--contrives to enlist the entire voice of a\ncongregation, the bass falling in on the third beat as if by intuition.\nThe truth is, the tune has become the habit of the hymn, and to the\nthousands who have it by heart, as they do in every village where there\nis a singing school, \"Antioch\" is \"Joy to the World,\" and \"Joy to the\nWorld\" is \"Antioch.\"\n\n\n\"HARK! WHAT MEAN THOSE HOLY VOICES?\"\n\nThis fine hymn, so many years appearing with the simple sign \"Cawood\" or\n\"J. Cawood\" printed under it, still holds its place by universal\nwelcome.\n\n Hark! what mean those holy voices\n Sweetly sounding through the skies?\n Lo th' angelic host rejoices;\n Heavenly hallelujahs rise.\n\n Hear them tell the wondrous story,\n Hear them chant in hymns of joy,\n Glory in the highest, glory,\n Glory be to God on high!\n\nThe Rev. John Cawood, a farmer's son, was born at Matlock, Derbyshire,\nEng., March 18, 1775, graduated at Oxford, 1801, and was appointed\nperpetual curate of St. Anne's in Bendly, Worcestershire. Died Nov. 7,\n1852. He is said to have written seventeen hymns, but was too modest to\npublish any.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nDr. Dykes' \"Oswald,\" and Henry Smart's \"Bethany\" are worthy expressions\nof the feeling in Cawood's hymn. In America, Mason's \"Amaland,\" with\nfugue in the second and third lines, has long been a favorite.\n\n\n\"WHILE SHEPHERDS WATCHED THEIR FLOCKS.\"\n\nThis was written by Nahum Tate (1652-1715), and after two hundred years\nthe church remembers and sings the song. Six generations have grown up\nwith their childhood memory of its pictorial verses illustrating St.\nLuke's Christmas story.\n\n While shepherds watched their flocks by night,\n All seated on the ground,\n The angel of the Lord came down\n And glory shone around.\n\n \"Fear not\" said he, for mighty dread\n Had seized their troubled mind,\n \"Glad tidings of great joy I bring\n To you and all mankind.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nModern hymnals have substituted \"Christmas\" and other more or less\nspirited tunes for Read's \"Sherburne,\" which was the first musical\ntranslation of the hymn to American ears. But, to show the traditional\nhold that the New England fugue melody maintains on the people, many\ncollections print it as alternate tune. Some modifications have been\nmade in it, but its survival is a tribute to its real merit.\n\nDaniel Read, the creator of \"Sherburne,\" \"Windham,\" \"Russia,\"\n\"Stafford,\" \"Lisbon,\" and many other tunes characteristic of a bygone\nschool of psalmody, was born in Rehoboth, Mass., Nov. 2, 1757. He\npublished _The American Singing Book_, 1785, _Columbian Harmony_, 1793,\nand several other collections. Died in New Haven, Ct., 1836.\n\n\n\"IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR.\"\n\nRev. Edmund Hamilton Sears, author of this beautiful hymn-poem, was born\nat Sandisfield, Berkshire Co., Mass., April 6, 1810, and educated at\nUnion College and Harvard University. He became pastor of the Unitarian\nChurch in Wayland, Mass., 1838. Died in the adjoining town of Weston,\nJan. 14, 1876. The hymn first appeared in the _Christian Register_ in\n1857.\n\n It came upon the midnight clear,\n That glorious song of old,\n From angels bending near the earth\n To touch their harps of gold.\n\n \"Peace to the earth, good will to men\n From Heaven's all-gracious King.\"\n The world in solemn stillness lay,\n To hear the angels sing.\n\n Still through the cloven skies they come\n With peaceful wings unfurled\n And still their heavenly music floats\n O'er all the weary world.\n\n Above its sad and lonely plains\n They bend on hovering wing,\n And ever o'er its Babel sounds\n The blessed angels sing.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nNo more sympathetic music has been written to these lines than \"Carol,\"\nthe tune composed by Richard Storrs Willis, a brother of Nathaniel\nParker Willis the poet, and son of Deacon Nathaniel Willis, the founder\nof the _Youth's Companion_. He was born Feb, 10, 1819, graduated at Yale\nin 1841, and followed literature as a profession. He was also a musician\nand composer. For many years he edited the _N.Y. Musical World_, and,\nbesides contributing frequently to current literature, published _Church\nChorals and Choir Studies_, _Our Church Music_ and several other volumes\non musical subjects. Died in Detroit, May 7, 1900.\n\nThe much-loved and constantly used advent psalm of Mr. Sears,--\n\n Calm on the listening ear of night\n Come heaven's melodious strains\n Where wild Judea stretches far\n Her silver-mantled plains,\n\n--was set to music by John Edgar Gould, and the smooth choral with its\nsweet chords is a remarkable example of blended voice and verse.\n\n\n\"O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM!\"\n\nPhillips Brooks, the eloquent bishop of Massachusetts, loved to write\nsimple and tender poems for the children of his church and diocese. They\nall reveal his loving heart and the beauty of his consecrated\nimagination. This one, the best of his _Christmas Songs_, was slow in\ncoming to public notice, but finally found its place in hymn-tune\ncollections.\n\n O little town of Bethlehem,\n How still we see thee lie!\n Above thy deep and dreamless sleep\n The silent stars go by;\n Yet in thy dark streets shineth\n The everlasting light;\n The hopes and fears of all the years\n Are met in thee tonight.\n\n For Christ is born of Mary,\n And gathered all above,\n While mortals sleep, the angels keep\n Their watch of wondering love.\n O morning stars, together\n Proclaim the holy birth!\n And praises sing to God the King\n And peace to men on earth.\n\n How silently, how silently,\n The wondrous gift is given!\n So God imparts to human hearts\n The blessings of His heaven.\n No ear may hear His coming,\n But in this world of sin,\n Where meek souls will receive Him still\n The dear Christ enters in.\n\nPhillips Brooks, late bishop of the diocese of Massachusetts, was born\nin Boston, Dec. 13, 1835; died Jan. 23, 1893. He was graduated at\nHarvard in 1855, and at the Episcopal Divinity School of Alexandria,\nVa., 1859. The first ten years of his ministry were spent in\nPennsylvania, after which he became rector of Trinity Church, Boston,\nand was elected bishop in 1891. He was an inspiring teacher and\npreacher, an eloquent pulpit orator, and a man of deep and rich\nreligious life.\n\nThe hymn was written in 1868, and it was, no doubt, the ripened thought\nof his never-forgotten visit to the \"little town of Bethlehem\" two years\nbefore.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Bethlehem\" is the appropriate name of a tune written by J. Barnby, and\nadapted to the words, but it is the hymn's first melody (named \"St.\nLouis\" by the compiler who first printed it in the _Church Porch_ from\noriginal leaflets) that has the credit of carrying it to popularity.\n\nThe composer was Mr. Redner, organist of the Church of the Holy Trinity,\nPhiladelphia, of which Rector Brooks was then in charge. Lewis Henry\nRedner, born 1831, was not only near the age of his friend and pastor\nbut as much devoted to the interests of the Sunday-school, for whose use\nthe hymn was written, and he had promised to write a score to which it\ncould be sung on the coming Sabbath. Waking in the middle of the night,\nafter a busy Saturday that sent him to bed with his brain \"in a whirl,\"\nhe heard \"an angel strain,\" and immediately rose and pricked the notes\nof the melody. The tune had come to him just in time to be sung. A much\nadmired tune has also been written to this hymn by Hubert P. Main.\n\n\n\n_PALM SUNDAY_.\n\n\nFAURE'S \"PALM BRANCHES.\"\n\n _Sur nos chemins les rameaux et les fleurs\n Sont repandos--_\n\n O'er all the way green palms and blossoms gay\n Are strewn to-day in festive preparation,\n Where Jesus comes to wipe our tears away.\n E'en now the throng to welcome Him prepare;\n Join all and sing.--\n\nJean Baptiste Faure, author of the words and music, was born at Moulins,\nFrance, Jan. 15, 1830. As a boy he was gifted with a beautiful voice,\nand crowds used to gather wherever he sang in the streets of Paris.\nLittle is known of his parentage, and apparently the sweet voice of the\nwandering lad was his only fortune. He found wealthy friends who sent\nhim to the _Conservatoire_, but when his voice matured it ceased to\nserve him as a singer. He went on with his study of instrumental music,\nbut mourned for his lost vocal triumphs, and his longing became a\nsubject of prayer. He promised God that if his power to sing were given\nback to him he would use it for charity and the good of mankind. By\ndegrees he recovered his voice, and became known as a great baritone. As\nprofessional singer and composer at the Paris _Grand Opera_, he had been\nemployed largely in dramatic work, but his \"Ode to Charity\" is one of\nhis enduring and celebrated pieces, and his songs written for benevolent\nand religious services have found their way into all Christian lands.\n\nHis \"Palm-Branches\" has come to be a _sine qua non_ on its calendar\nSunday wherever church worship is planned with any regard to the Feasts\nof the Christian year.\n\n\n\n_EASTER._\n\n\nPerhaps the most notable feature in the early hymnology of the Oriental\nChurch was its Resurrection songs. Being hymns of joy, they called forth\nall the ceremony and spectacle of ecclesiastical pomp. Among them--and\nthe most ancient one of those preserved--is the hymn of John of\nDamascus, quoted in the second chapter (p. 54). This was the\nproclamation-song in the watch-assemblies, when exactly on the midnight\nmoment at the shout of \"Christos egerthe!\" ([Greek: Christos egerthe].)\n\"Christ is risen!\" thousands of torches were lit, bells and trumpets\npealed, and (in the later centuries) salvos of cannon shook the air.\n\nAnother favorite hymn of the Eastern Church was the \"_Salve, Beate\nMane_,\" \"Welcome, Happy Morning,\" of Fortunatus. (Chap. 10, p. 357.) This\npoem furnished cantos for Easter hymns of the Middle Ages. Jerome of\nPrague sang stanzas of it on his way to the stake.\n\nAn anonymous hymn, \"_Poneluctum, Magdelena_,\" in medieval Latin rhyme,\nis addressed to Mary Magdelene weeping at the empty sepulchre. The\nfollowing are the 3d and 4th stanzas, with a translation by Prof. C.S.\nHarrington of Wesleyan University:\n\n Gaude, plaude, Magdalena!\n Tumba Christus exiit!\n Tristis est peracta scena,\n Victor mortis rediit;\n Quem deflebas morientem,\n Nunc arride resurgentem!\n Alleluia!\n\n Tolle vultum, Magdalena!\n Redivivum aspice;\n Vide frons quam sit amoena,\n Quinque plagas inspice;\n Fulgent, sic ut margaritae,\n Ornamenta novae vitae.\n Alleluia!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Magdalena, shout for gladness!\n Christ has left the gloomy grave;\n Finished is the scene of sadness;\n Death destroyed, He comes to save;\n Whom with grief thou sawest dying,\n Greet with smiles, the tomb defying.\n Hallelujah!\n\n Lift thine eyes, O Magdalena!\n Lo! thy Lord before thee stands;\n See! how fair the thorn-crowned forehead;\n Mark His feet, His side, His hands;\n Glow His wounds with pearly whiteness!\n Hallowing life with heavenly brightness!\n Hallelujah!\n\nThe hymnaries of the Christian Church for seventeen hundred years are so\nrich in Easter hallelujahs and hosannas that to introduce them all would\nswell a chapter to the size of an encyclopedia--and even to make a\nselection is a responsible task.\n\nSimple mention must suffice of Luther's--\n\n In the bonds of death He lay;\n\n--of Watts'--\n\n He dies, the Friend of sinners dies;\n\n--of John Wesley's--\n\n Our Lord has gone up on high;\n\n--of C.F. Gellert's--\n\n Christ is risen! Christ is risen!\n He hath burst His bonds in twain;\n\n--omitting hundreds which have been helpful in psalmody, and are,\nperhaps, still in choir or congregational use.\n\n\n\"CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TODAY\"\n\nBegins a hymn of Charles Wesley's and is also the first line of a hymn\nprepared for Sunday-school use by Mrs. Storrs, wife of the late Dr.\nRichard Salter Storrs of Brooklyn, N.Y.\n\nWesley's hymn is sung--with or without the hallelujah interludes--to\n\"Telemann's Chant,\" (Zeuner), to an air of Mendelssohn, and to John\nStainer's \"Paschale Gaudium.\" Like the old New England \"Easter Anthem\"\nit appears to have been suggested by an anonymous translation of some\nmore ancient (Latin) antiphony.\n\n Jesus Christ is risen to day,\n Hallelujah!\n Our triumphant holy day,\n Hallelujah!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Who endured the cross and grave.\n Hallelujah!\n Sinners to redeem and save,\n Hallelujah!\n\n\nAN ANTHEM FOR EASTER.\n\nThis work of an amateur genius, with its rustic harmonies, suited the\ntaste of colonial times, and no doubt the devout church-goers of that\nday found sincere worship and thanksgiving in its flamboyant music. \"An\nAnthem for Easter,\" in A major by William Billings (1785) occupied\nseveral pages in the early collections of psalmody and \"the sounding\njoy\" was in it. Organs were scarce, but beyond the viols of the village\nchoirs it needed no instrumental accessories. The language is borrowed\nfrom the New Testament and _Young's Night Thoughts_.\n\n The Lord is risen indeed!\n Hallelujah!\n The Lord is risen indeed!\n Hallelujah!\n\nFollowing this triumphant overture, a recitative bass solo repeats I\nCor. 15:20, and the chorus takes it up with crowning hallelujahs.\nDifferent parts, _per fugam_, inquire from clef to clef--\n\n And did He rise?\n And did He rise?--\n Hear [the answer], O ye nations!\n Hear it, O ye dead!\n\nThen duet, trio and chorus sing it, successively--\n\n He rose! He rose! He rose!\n He burst the bars of death,\n And triumphed o'er the grave!\n\nThe succeeding thirty-four bars--duet and chorus--take home the sacred\ngladness to the heart of humanity--\n\n Then, then _I_ rose,\n\n * * * * *\n\n And seized eternal youth,\n Man all immortal, hail!\n Heaven's all the glory, man's the boundless bliss.\n\n\n\"YES, THE REDEEMER ROSE.\"\n\nIn the six-eight syllable verse once known as \"hallelujah\nmetre\"--written by Dr. Doddridge to be sung after a sermon on the text\nin 1st Corinthians noted in the above anthem--\n\n Yes, the Redeemer rose,\n The Saviour left the dead,\n And o'er our hellish foes\n High raised His conquering head.\n In wild dismay the guards around\n Fall to the ground and sink away.\n\nLewis Edson's \"Lenox\" (1782) is an old favorite among its musical\ninterpreters.\n\n\n\"O SHORT WAS HIS SLUMBER.\"\n\nThis hymn for the song-service of the Ruggles St. Church, Boston, was\nwritten by Rev. Theron Brown.\n\n O short was His slumber; He woke from the dust;\n The Saviour death's chain could not hold;\n And short, since He rose, is the sleep of the just;\n They shall wake, and His glory behold.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Dear grave in the garden; hope smiled at its door\n Where love's brightest triumph was told;\n Christ lives! and His life will His people restore!\n They shall wake, and His glory behold.\n\nThe music is Bliss' tune to Spafford's \"When Peace Like a River.\"\n\nAnother by the same writer, sung by the same church chorus, is--\n\n He rose! O morn of wonder!\n They saw His light go down\n Whose hate had crushed Him under,\n A King without a crown.\n No plume, no garland wore He,\n Despised death's Victor lay,\n And wrapped in night His glory,\n That claimed a grander day.\n\n * * * * *\n\n He rose! He burst immortal\n From death's dark realm alone,\n And left its heavenward portal\n Swung wide for all his own.\n Nor need one terror seize us\n To face earth's final pain,\n For they who follow Jesus,\n But die to live again.\n\nThe composer's name is lost, the tune being left nameless when printed.\nThe impression is that it was a secular melody. A very suitable tune for\nthe hymn is Geo. J. Webb's \"Millennial Dawn\" (\"the Morning Light is\nbreaking.\")\n\n\n\n_THANKSGIVING._\n\n\n\"DIE FELDER WIR PFLUeGEN UND STREUEN.\"\n\n We plow the fields and scatter\n The good seed on the land,\n But it is fed and watered\n By God's Almighty hand,\n He sends the snow in winter,\n The warmth to swell the grain,\n The breezes, and the sunshine\n And soft, refreshing rain,\n All, all good gifts around us\n Are sent from heaven above\n Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord\n For all His love!\n\nMatthias Claudius, who wrote the German original of this little poem,\nwas a native of Reinfeld, Holstein, born 1770 and died 1815. He wrote\nlyrics, humorous, pathetic and religious, some of which are still\ncurrent in Germany.\n\nThe translator of the verses is Miss Jane Montgomery Campbell, whose\nidentity has not been traced. Hers is evidently one of the retiring\nnames brought to light by one unpretending achievement. English readers\nowe to her the above modest and devout hymn, which was first published\nhere in Rev. C.S. Bere's _Garland of Songs with Tunes_, 1861.\n\nLittle is known of Arthur Cottman, composer to Miss Campbell's words. He\nwas born in 1842, and died in 1879.\n\n[Illustration: Lowell Mason]\n\n\n\"WITH SONGS AND HONORS SOUNDING LOUD.\"\n\nStanzas of this enduring hymn of Watts' have been as often recited as\nsung.\n\n He sends His showers of blessing down\n To cheer the plains below;\n He makes the grass the mountains crown,\n And corn in valleys grow.\n\n\n_THE TUNE_,\n\nOne of the chorals--if not the best--to claim partnership with this\nsacred classic, is John Cole's \"Geneva,\" distinguished among the few\nfugue tunes which the singing world refuses to dismiss. There is a\ngrowing grandeur in the opening solo and its following duet as they\nclimb the first tetra-chord, when the full harmony suddenly reveals the\nmajesty of the music. The little parenthetic duo at the eighth bar\nbreaks the roll of the song for one breath, and the concord of voices\ncloses in again like a diapason. One thinks of a bird-note making a\nwaterfall listen.\n\n\n\"HARVEST HOME.\"\n\n Let us sing of the sheaves, when the summer is done,\n And the garners are stored with the gifts of the sun.\n Shouting home from the fields like the voice of the sea,\n Let us join with the reapers in glad jubilee,--\n\n _Refrain._\n Harvest home! (_double rep._)\n Let us chant His praise who has crowned our days\n With bounty of the harvest home.\n\n Who hath ripened the fruits into golden and red?\n Who hath grown in the valleys our treasures of bread,\n That the owner might heap, and the stranger might glean\n For the days when the cold of the winter is keen?\n Harvest home!\n Let us chant, etc.\n\n For the smile of the sunshine, again and again,\n For the dew on the garden, the showers on the plain,\n For the year, with its hope and its promise that end,\n Crowned with plenty and peace, let thanksgiving ascend,\n Harvest home!\n Let us chant, etc.\n\n We shall gather a harvest of glory, we know,\n From the furrows of life where in patience we sow.\n Buried love in the field of the heart never dies,\n And its seed scattered here will be sheaves in the skies,\n Harvest home!\n Let us chant, etc.\n\nThanksgiving Hymn. Boston, 1890. Theron Brown.\n\nTune \"To the Work, To the Work.\" W.H. Doane.\n\n\n\"THE GOD OF HARVEST PRAISE.\"\n\nWritten by James Montgomery in 1840, and published in the _Evangelical\nMagazine_ as the Harvest Hymn for that year.\n\n The God of harvest praise;\n In loud thanksgiving raise\n Heart, hand and voice.\n The valleys smile and sing,\n Forests and mountains sing,\n The plains their tribute bring,\n The streams rejoice.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The God of harvest praise;\n Hearts, hands and voices raise\n With sweet accord;\n From field to garner throng,\n Bearing your sheaves along,\n And in your harvest song\n Bless ye the Lord.\n\nTune, \"Dort\"--Lowell Mason.\n\n\n\n_MORNING._\n\n\n\"STILL, STILL WITH THEE.\"\n\nThese stanzas of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, with their poetic beauty\nand grateful religious spirit, have furnished an orison worthy of a\nplace in all the hymn books. In feeling and in faith the hymn is a matin\nsong for the world, supplying words and thoughts to any and every heart\nthat worships.\n\n Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,\n When the bird waketh and the shadows flee;\n Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,\n Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee.\n\n Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows\n The solemn hush of nature newly born;\n Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,\n In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.\n\n * * * * *\n\n When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,\n Its closing eyes look up to Thee in prayer,\n Sweet the repose beneath Thy wings o'ershadowing,\n But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nBarnby's \"Windsor,\" and \"Stowe\" by Charles H. Morse (1893)--both written\nto the words.\n\nMendelssohn's \"Consolation\" is a classic interpretation of the hymn, and\nfinely impressive when skillfully sung, but simpler--and sweeter to the\npopular ear--is Mason's \"Henley,\" written to Mrs. Eslings'--\n\n \"Come unto me when shadows darkly gather.\"\n\n\n\n_EVENING HYMNS._\n\nJohn Keble's beautiful meditation--\n\n Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear;\n\nJohn Leland's--\n\n The day is past and gone;\n\nand Phebe Brown's--\n\n I love to steal awhile away;\n\n--have already been noticed. Bishop Doane's gentle and spiritual lines\nexpress nearly everything that a worshipping soul would include in a\nmoment of evening thought. The first and last stanzas are the ones most\ncommonly sung.\n\n Softly now the light of day\n Fades upon my sight away:\n Free from care, from labor free,\n Lord I would commune with Thee.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Soon for me the light of day\n Shall forever pass away;\n Then, from sin and sorrow free,\n Take me, Lord, to dwell with Thee.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nBoth Kozeluck and J.E. Gould, besides Louis M. Gottschalk and Dr. Henry\nJohn Gauntlett, have tried their skill in fitting music to this hymn,\nbut only Gottschalk and Kozeluck approach the mood into which its quiet\nwords charm a pious and reflective mind. Possibly its frequent\nassociation with \"Holley,\" composed by George Hews, may influence a\nhearer's judgement of other melodies but there is something in that tune\nthat makes it cling to the hymn as if by instinctive kinship.\n\nOthers may have as much or more artistic music but \"Holley\" in its soft\nmodulations seems to breathe the spirit of every word.\n\nIt was this tune to which a stranger recently heard a group of\nmill-girls singing Bishop Doane's verses. The lady, a well-known\nChristian worker, visited a certain factory, and the superintendent,\nafter showing her through the building, opened a door into a long\nwork-room, where the singing of the girls delighted and surprised her.\nIt was sunset, and their hymn was--\n\n Softly now the light of day.\n\nSeveral of the girls were Sunday-school teachers, who had encouraged\nothers to sing at that hour, and it had become a habit.\n\n\"Has it made a difference?\" the lady inquired.\n\n\"There is seldom any quarrelling or coarse joking among them now,\" said\nthe superintendent with a smile.\n\nDr. S.F. Smith's hymn of much the same tone and tenor--\n\n Softly fades the twilight ray\n Of the holy Sabbath day,\n\n--is commonly sung to the tune of \"Holley.\"\n\nGeorge Hews, an American composer and piano-maker, was born in\nMassachusetts 1800, and died July 6, 1873. No intelligence of him or his\nwork or former locality is at hand, beyond this brief note in Baptie,\n\"He is believed to have followed his trade in Boston, and written music\nfor some of Mason's earlier books.\"\n\n\n_DEDICATION._\n\n\n\"CHRIST IS OUR CORNER-STONE.\"\n\nThis reproduces in Chandler's translation a song-service in an ancient\nLatin liturgy (_angulare fundamentum_).\n\n Christ is our Corner-Stone;\n On Him alone we build,\n With His true saints alone\n The courts of heaven are filled,\n On His great love\n Our hopes we place\n Of present grace\n And joys above.\n\n O then with hymns of praise\n These hallowed courts shall ring;\n Our voices we will raise\n The Three-in-One to sing.\n And thus proclaim\n In joyful song\n But loud and long\n That glorious Name.\n\nThe Rev. John Chandler was born at Witley, Surrey, Eng. June 16, 1806.\nHe took his A.M. degree at Oxford, and entered the ministry of the\nChurch of England, was Vicar of Witley many years, and became well-known\nfor his translations of hymns of the primitive church. Died at Putney,\nJuly 1, 1876.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nSebastian Wesley's \"Harewood\" is plainer and of less compass, but\nZundel's \"Brooklyn\" is more than its rival, both in melody and vivacity.\n\n\n\"OH LORD OF HOSTS WHOSE GLORY FILLS THE BOUNDS OF THE ETERNAL HILLS.\"\n\nA hymn of Dr. John Mason Neale--\n\n Endue the creatures with Thy grace\n That shall adorn Thy dwelling-place\n The beauty of the oak and pine,\n The gold and silver, make them Thine.\n\n The heads that guide endue with skill,\n The hands that work preserve from ill,\n That we who these foundations lay\n May raise the top-stone in its day.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Welton,\" by Rev. Caesar Malan--author of \"Hendon,\" once familiar to\nAmerican singers.\n\nHenri Abraham Caesar Malan was born at Geneva, Switzerland, 1787, and\neducated at Geneva College. Ordained to the ministry of the State\nchurch, (Reformed,) he was dismissed for preaching against its formalism\nand spiritual apathy; but he built a chapel of his own, and became a\nleader with D'Aubigne, Monod, and others in reviving the purity of the\nEvangelical faith and laboring for the conversion of souls.\n\nMalan wrote many hymns, and published a large collection, the \"_Chants\nde Sion_,\" for the Evangelical Society and the French Reformed Church.\nHe composed the music of his own hymns. Died at Vandosurre, 1864.\n\n\n\"DAUGHTER OF ZION, FROM THE DUST.\"\n\nCases may occur where an _exhortation_ hymn earns a place with\ndedication hymns.\n\nThe charred fragment of a hymn-book leaf hangs in a frame on the\nauditorium wall of the \"New England Church,\" Chicago. The former edifice\nof that church, all the homes of its resident members, and all their\nbusiness offices except one, were destroyed in the great fire. In the\nruins of their sanctuary the only scrap of paper found on which there\nwas a legible word was this bit of a hymn-book leaf with the two first\nstanzas of Montgomery's hymn,\n\n Daughter of Zion, from the dust,\n Exalt thy fallen head;\n Again in thy Redeemer trust,\n He calls thee from the dead.\n\n Awake, awake! put on thy strength,\n Thy beautiful array;\n The day of freedom dawns at length,\n The Lord's appointed day.\n\nThe third verse was not long in coming to every mind--\n\n Rebuild thy walls! thy bounds enlarge!\n\n--and even without that added word the impoverished congregation\nevidently enough had received a message from heaven. They took heart of\ngrace, overcame all difficulties, and in good time replaced their ruined\nSabbath-home with the noble house in which they worship today.[46]\n\n[Footnote 46: The story is told by Rev. William E. Barton D.D. of Oak\nPark, Ill.]\n\nIf the \"New England Church\" of Chicago did not sing this hymn at the\ndedication of their new temple it was for some other reason than lack of\ngratitude--not to say reverence.\n\n\n_THE SABBATH_.\n\n\nThe very essence of all song-worship pitched on this key-note is the\nringing hymn of Watts--\n\n Sweet is the day of sacred rest,\n No mortal cares disturb my breast, etc.\n\n--but it has vanished from the hymnals with its tune. Is it because\nprofane people or thoughtless youth made a travesty of the two next\nlines--\n\n O may my heart in tune be found\n Like David's harp of solemn sound?\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nOld \"Portland\" by Abraham Maxim, a fugue tune in F major of the canon\nstyle, expressed all the joy that a choir could put into music, though\nwith more sound than skill. The choral is a relic among relics now, but\nit is a favorite one.\n\n\"Sweet is the Light of Sabbath Eve\" by Edmeston; Stennett's \"Another Six\nDays' Work is Done,\" sung to \"Spohr,\" the joint tune of Louis Spohr and\nJ.E. Gould; and Doddridge's \"Thine Earthly Sabbath, Lord, We Love\"\nretain a feeble hold among some congregations. And Hayward's \"Welcome\nDelightful Morn,\" to the impossible tune of \"Lischer,\" survived\nunaccountably long in spite of its handicap. But special Sabbath hymns\nare out of fashion, those classed under that title taking an incidental\nplace under the general head of \"Worship.\"\n\n\n_COMMUNION._\n\n\n\"BREAD OF HEAVEN, ON THEE WE FEED.\"\n\nThis hymn of Josiah Conder, copying the physical metaphors of the 6th of\nJohn, is still occasionally used at the Lord's Supper.\n\n Vine of Heaven, Thy blood supplies\n This blest cup of sacrifice,\n Lord, Thy wounds our healing give,\n To Thy Cross we look and live.\n\nThe hymn is notable for the felicity with which it combines imagery and\nreality. Figure and fact are always in sight of each other.\n\nJosiah Conder was born in London, September 17, 1789. He edited the\n_Eclectic Review_, and was the author of numerous prose works on\nhistoric and religious subjects. Rev. Garrett Horder says that more of\nhis hymns are in common use now than those of any other except Watts and\nDoddridge. More _in proportion to the relative number_ may be nearer the\ntruth. In his lifetime Conder wrote about sixty hymns. He died Dec. 27,\n1855.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe tune \"Corsica\" sometimes sung to the words, though written by the\nfamous Von Gluck, shows no sign of the genius of its author. Born at\nWeissenwang, near New Markt, Prussia, July 2, 1714, he spent his life in\nthe service of operatic art, and is called \"the father of the lyric\ndrama,\" but he paid little attention to sacred music. Queen Marie\nAntoinette was for a while his pupil. Died Nov. 25, 1787.\n\n\"Wilmot,\" (from Von Weber) one of Mason's popular hymn-tune\narrangements, is a melody with which the hymn is well acquainted. It has\na fireside rhythm which old and young of the same circles take up\nnaturally in song.\n\n\n\"HERE, O MY LORD, I SEE THEE FACE TO FACE.\"\n\nWritten in October, 1855, by Dr. Horatius Bonar. James Bonar, brother of\nthe poet-preacher, just after the communion for that month, asked him to\nfurnish a hymn for the communion record. It was the church custom to\nprint a memorandum of each service at the Lord's table, with an\nappropriate hymn attached, and an original one would be thrice welcome.\nHoratius in a day or two sent this hymn:\n\n Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face,\n Here would I touch and handle things unseen\n Here grasp with firmer hand th' eternal grace\n And all my weariness upon Thee lean.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Too soon we rise; the symbols disappear;\n The feast, though not the love, is past and gone;\n The bread and wine remove, but Thou art here\n Nearer than ever--still my Shield and Sun.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Morecambe\" is an anonymous composition printed with the words by the\n_Plymouth Hymnal_ editors. \"Berlin\" by Mendelssohn is better. The metre\nof Bonar's hymn is unusual, and melodies to fit it are not numerous, but\nfor a meditative service it is worth a tune of its own.\n\n\n\"O THOU MY SOUL, FORGET NO MORE.\"\n\nThe author of this hymn found in the Baptist hymnals, and often sung at\nthe sacramental seasons of that denomination, was the first Hindoo\nconvert to Christianity.\n\nKrishna Pal, a native carpenter, in consequence of an accident, came\nunder the care of Mr. Thomas, a missionary who had been a surgeon in the\nEast Indies and was now an associate worker with William Carey. Mr.\nThomas set the man's broken arm, and talked of Jesus to him and the\nsurrounding crowd with so much tact and loving kindness that Krishna Pal\nwas touched. He became a pupil of the missionaries; embraced Christ, and\ninfluenced his wife and daughter and his brother to accept his new\nfaith.\n\nHe alone, however, dared the bitter persecution of his caste, and\npresented himself for church-membership. He and Carey's son were\nbaptized in the Ganges by Dr. Carey, Dec. 28, 1800, in the presence of\nthe English Governor and an immense concourse of people representing\nfour or five different religions.\n\nKrishna Pal wrote several hymns. The one here noted was translated from\nthe Bengalee by Dr. Marshman.\n\n O thou, my soul, forget no more\n The Friend who all thy sorrows bore;\n Let every idol be forgot;\n But, O my soul, forget him not.\n\n Renounce thy works and ways, with grief,\n And fly to this divine relief;\n Nor Him forget, who left His throne,\n And for thy life gave up His own.\n\n Eternal truth and mercy shine\n In Him, and He Himself is thine:\n And canst thou then, with sin beset,\n Such charms, such matchless charms forget?\n\n Oh, no; till life itself depart,\n His name shall cheer and warm my heart;\n And lisping this, from earth I'll rise,\n And join the chorus of the skies.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThere is no scarcity of good long-metre tunes to suit the sentiment of\nthis hymn. More commonly in the Baptist manuals its vocal mate is\nBradbury's \"Rolland\" or the sweet and serious Scotch melody of \"Ward,\"\narranged by Mason. Best of all is \"Hursley,\" the beautiful Ritter-Monk\nchoral set to \"Sun of My Soul.\"\n\n\n_NEW YEAR._\n\n\nTwo representative hymns of this class are John Newton's--\n\n While with ceaseless course the sun,\n\n--and Charles Wesley's--\n\n Come let us anew our journey pursue;\n\nthe one a voice at the next year's threshold, the other a song at the\nopen door.\n\n While with ceaseless course the sun\n Hasted thro' the former year\n Many souls their race have run\n Nevermore to meet us here.\n\n * * * * *\n\n As the winged arrow flies\n Speedily the mark to find,\n As the lightening from the skies\n Darts and leaves no trace behind,\n Swiftly thus our fleeting days\n Bear we down life's rapid stream,\n Upward, Lord, our spirits raise;\n All below is but a dream.\n\nA grave occasion, whether unexpected or periodical, will force\nreflection, and so will a grave truth; and when both present themselves\nat once, the truth needs only commonplace statement. If the statement is\nin rhyme and measure more attention is secured. Add a _tune_ to it, and\nthe most frivolous will take notice. Newton's hymn sung on the last\nevening of the year has its opportunity--and never fails to produce a\nsolemn effect; but it is to the immortal music given to it in Samuel\nWebbe's \"Benevento\" that it owes its unique and permanent place. Dykes'\n\"St. Edmund\" may be sung in England, but in America it will never\nreplace Webbe's simple and wonderfully impressive choral.\n\nCharles Wesley's hymn is the antipode of Newton's in metre and movement.\n\n Come, let us anew our journey pursue,\n Roll round with the year\n And never stand still till the Master appear.\n His adorable will let us gladly fulfil\n And our talents improve\n By the patience of hope and the labor of love.\n\n Our life is a dream, our time as a stream\n Glides swiftly away,\n And the fugitive moment refuses to stay.\n The arrow is flown, the moment is gone,\n The millennial year,\n Rushes on to our view, and eternity's near.\n\n[Illustration: Carl von Weber]\n\nOne could scarcely imagine a greater contrast than between this hymn and\nNewton's. In spite of its eccentric metre one cannot dismiss it as\nrhythmical jingle, for it is really a sermon shaped into a popular\ncanticle, and the surmise is not a difficult one that he had in mind a\nsecular air that was familiar to the crowd. But the hymn is not one of\nWesley's _poems_. Compilers who object to its lilting measure omit it\nfrom their books, but it holds its place in public use, for it carries\nweighty thoughts in swift sentences.\n\n O that each in the Day of His coming may say,\n \"I have fought my way through,\n I have finished the work Thou didst give me to do.\"\n O that each from the Lord may receive the glad word,\n \"Well and faithfully done,\n Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne.\"\n\nFor a hundred and fifty years this has been sung in the Methodist\nwatch-meetings, and it will be long before it ceases to be sung--and\nreprinted in Methodist, and some Baptist hymnals.\n\nThe tune of \"Lucas,\" named after James Lucas, its composer, is the\nfavorite vehicle of song for the \"Watch-hymn.\" Like the tune to \"O How\nHappy Are They,\" it has the movement of the words and the emphasis of\ntheir meaning.\n\nNo knowledge of James Lucas is at hand except that he lived in England,\nwhere one brief reference gives his birth-date as 1762 and \"about 1805\"\nas the birth-date of the tune.\n\n\n\"GREAT GOD, WE SING THAT MIGHTY HAND.\"\n\nThe admirable hymn of Dr. Doddridge may be noted in this division with\nits equally admirable tune of \"Melancthon,\" one of the old Lutheran\nchorals of Germany.\n\n Great God, we sing that mighty hand\n By which supported still we stand.\n The opening year Thy mercy shows;\n Thy mercy crown it till its close!\n\n By day, by night, at home, abroad,\n Still we are guarded by our God.\n\nAs this last couplet stood--and ought now to stand--pious parents\nteaching the hymn to their children heard them repeat--\n\n By day, by night, at home, abroad,\n _We are surrounded still with God_.\n\nMany are now living whose first impressive sense of the Divine\nOmnipresence came with that line.\n\n\n_PARTING._\n\n\n\"GOD BE WITH YOU TILL WE MEET AGAIN.\"\n\nA lyric of benediction, born, apparently, at the divine moment for the\nneed of the great \"Society of Christian Endeavor,\" and now adopted into\nthe Christian song-service of all lands. The author, Rev. Jeremiah Eames\nRankin, D.D., LL.D., was born in Thornton, N.H., Jan. 2, 1828. He was\ngraduated at Middlebury College, Vt., in 1848, and labored as a\nCongregational pastor more than thirty years. For thirteen years he was\nPresident of Howard University, Washington, D.C. Besides the \"Parting\nHymn\" he wrote _The Auld Scotch Mither_, _Ingleside Rhymes_, _Hymns pro\nPatria_, and various practical works and religious essays. Died 1904.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nAs in a thousand other partnerships of hymnist and musician, Dr. Rankin\nwas fortunate in his composer. The tune is a symphony of hearts--subdued\nat first, but breaking into a chorus strong with the uplift of hope. It\nis a farewell with a spiritual thrill in it.\n\nIts author, William Gould Tomer, was born in Finesville, Warren Co.,\nN.J., October 5, 1832; died in Phillipsburg, N.J., Sept. 26, 1896. He\nwas a soldier in the Civil War and a writer of good ability as well as a\ncomposer. For some time he was editor of the _High Bridge Gazette_, and\nmusic with him was an avocation rather than a profession. He wrote the\nmelody to Dr. Rankin's hymn in 1880, Prof. J.W. Bischoff supplying the\nharmony, and the tune was first published in _Gospel Bells_ the same\nyear.\n\n\n_FUNERALS._\n\n\nThe style of singing at funerals, as well as the character of the hymns,\nhas greatly changed--if, indeed, music continues to be a part of the\nservice, as frequently, in ordinary cases, it is not. \"China\" with its\ncomforting words--and terrifying chords--is forever obsolete, and not\nonly that, but Dr. Muhlenberg's, \"I Would Not Live Alway,\" with its\nsadly sentimental tune of \"Frederick,\" has passed out of common use.\nAnna Steele's \"So Fades the Lovely, Blooming Flower,\" on the death of a\nchild, is occasionally heard, and now and then Dr. S.F. Smith's,\n\"Sister, Thou Wast Mild and Lovely,\" (with its gentle air of \"Mt.\nVernon,\") on the death of a young lady. Standard hymns like Watts',\n\"Unveil Thy Bosom, Faithful Tomb,\" to the slow, tender melody of the\n\"Dead March,\" (from Handel's oratorio of \"Saul\") and Montgomery's\n\"Servant of God, Well Done,\" to \"Olmutz,\" or Woodbury's \"Forever with\nthe Lord,\" still retain their prestige, the music of the former being\nplayed on steeple-chimes on some burial occasions in cities, during the\nprocession--\n\n Nor pain nor grief nor anxious fear\n Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes\n Can reach the peaceful sleeper here\n While angels watch the soft repose.\n\nThe latter hymn (Montgomery's) is biographical--as described on page\n301--\n\n Servant of God, well done;\n Rest from thy loved employ;\n The battle fought, the victory won,\n Enter thy Master's joy.\n\nOnly five stanzas of this long poem are now in use.\n\nThe exquisite elegy of Montgomery, entitled \"The Grave,\"--\n\n There is a calm for those who weep,\n A rest for weary mortals found\n They softly lie and sweetly sleep\n Low in the ground.\n\n--is by no means discontinued on funeral occasions, nor Margaret\nMackay's beloved hymn,--\n\n Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep,\n\n--melodized in Bradbury's \"Rest.\"\n\nMrs. Margaret Mackay was born in 1801, the daughter of Capt. Robert\nMackay of Hedgefield, Inverness, and wife of a major of the same name.\nShe was the author of several prose works and _Lays of Leisure Hours_,\ncontaining seventy-two original hymns and poems, of which \"Asleep in\nJesus\" is one. She died in 1887.\n\n\n\"MY JESUS, AS THOU WILT.\"\n\n(_Mein Jesu, wie du willst._)\n\nThis sweet hymn for mourners, known to us here in Jane Borthwick's\ntranslation, was written by Benjamin Schmolke (or Schmolk) late in the\n17th century. He was born at Brauchitzchdorf, in Silesia, Dec. 21, 1672,\nand received his education at the Labau Gymnasium and Leipsic\nUniversity. A sermon preached while a youth, for his father, a Lutheran\npastor, showed such remarkable promise that a wealthy man paid the\nexpenses of his education for the ministry. He was ordained and settled\nas pastor of the Free Church at Schweidnitz, Silesia, in which charge he\ncontinued from 1701 till his death.\n\nSchmolke was the most popular hymn-writer of his time, author of some\nnine hundred church pieces, besides many for special occasions. Withal\nhe was a man of exalted piety and a pastor of rare wisdom and influence.\n\nHis death, of paralysis, occurred on the anniversary of his wedding,\nFeb. 12, 1737.\n\n My Jesus, as Thou wilt,\n Oh may Thy will be mine!\n Into Thy hand of love\n I would my all resign.\n Thro' sorrow or thro' joy\n Conduct me as Thine own,\n And help me still to say,\n My Lord, Thy will be done.\n\nThe last line is the refrain of the hymn of four eight-line stanzas.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Sussex,\" by Joseph Barnby, a plain-song with a fine harmony, is good\ncongregational music for the hymn.\n\nBut \"Jewett,\" one of Carl Maria Von Weber's exquisite flights of song,\nis like no other in its intimate interpretation of the prayerful words.\nWe hear Luther's \"bird in the heart\" singing softly in every inflection\nof the tender melody as it glides on. The tune, arranged by Joseph\nHolbrook, is from an opera--the overture to Weber's Der Freischutz--but\none feels that the gentle musician when he wrote it must have caught an\ninspiration of divine trust and peace. The wish among the last words he\nuttered when dying in London of slow disease was, \"Let me go back to my\nown (home), and then God's will be done.\" That wish and the sentiment of\nSchmolke's hymn belong to each other, for they end in the same way.\n\n My Jesus, as Thou wilt:\n All shall be well for me;\n Each changing future scene\n I gladly trust with Thee.\n Straight to my home above\n I travel calmly on,\n And sing in life or death\n My Lord, Thy will be done.\n\n\n\"I CANNOT ALWAYS TRACE THE WAY.\"\n\nIn later years, when funeral music is desired, the employment of a male\nquartette has become a favorite custom. Of the selections sung in this\nmanner few are more suitable or more generally welcomed than the tender\nand trustful hymn of Sir John Bowring, rendered sometimes in Dr. Dykes'\n\"Almsgiving,\" but better in the less-known but more flexible tune\ncomposed by Howard M. Dow--\n\n I cannot always trace the way\n Where Thou, Almighty One, dost move,\n But I can always, always say\n That God is love.\n\n When fear her chilling mantle flings\n O'er earth, my soul to heaven above\n As to her native home upsprings,\n For God is love.\n\n When mystery clouds my darkened path,\n I'll check my dread, my doubts reprove;\n In this my soul sweet comfort hath\n That God is love.\n\n Yes, God is love. A thought like this\n Can every gloomy thought remove,\n And turn all tears, all woes to bliss\n For God is love.\n\nThe first line of the hymn was originally, \"'Tis seldom I can trace the\nway.\"\n\nHoward M. Dow has been many years a resident of Boston, and organist of\nthe Grand Lodge of Freemasons at the Tremont St. (Masonic) Temple.\n\n\n_WEDDING._\n\n\nTime was when hymns were sung at weddings, though in America the\npractice was never universal. Marriage, among Protestants, is not one of\nthe sacraments, and no masses are chanted for it by ecclesiastical\nordinance. The question of music at private marriages depends on\nconvenience, vocal or instrumental equipment, and the general drift of\nthe occasion. At public weddings the organ's duty is the \"Wedding\nMarch.\"\n\nTo revive a fashion of singing at home marriages would be considered an\noddity--and, where civil marriages are legal, a superfluity--but in the\nreligious ceremony, just after the prayer that follows the completion of\nthe nuptial formula, it will occur to some that a hymn would \"tide over\"\na proverbially awkward moment. Even good, quaint old John Berridge's\nlines would happily relieve the embarrassment--besides reminding the\nmore thoughtless that a wedding is not a mere piece of social fun--\n\n Since Jesus truly did appear\n To grace a marriage feast\n O Lord, we ask Thy presence here\n To make a wedding guest.\n\n Upon the bridal pair look down\n Who now have plighted hands;\n Their union with Thy favor crown\n And bless the nuptial bands\n\n * * * * *\n\n In purest love these souls unite\n That they with Christian care\n May make domestic burdens light\n By taking each a share.\n\nTune, \"Lanesboro,\" Mason.\n\nA wedding hymn of more poetic beauty is the one written by Miss Dorothy\nBloomfield (now Mrs. Gurney), born 1858, for her sister's marriage in\n1883.\n\n O perfect Love, all human thought transcending,\n Lowly we kneel in prayer before Thy throne\n That their's may be a love which knows no ending\n Whom Thou forevermore dost join in one.\n\n O perfect Life, be Thou their first assurance\n Of tender charity and steadfast faith,\n Of patient hope and quiet, brave endurance,\n With childlike trust that fears nor pain nor death.\n\n Grant them the joy which brightens earthly sorrow,\n Grant them the peace which calms all earthly strife,\n And to their day the glorious unknown morrow\n That dawns upon eternal love and life.\n\nTune by Joseph Barnby, \"O Perfect Love.\"\n\n\n_FRUITION DAY._\n\n\n\"LO! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS DESCENDING.\"\n\nThomas Olivers begins one of his hymns with this line. The hymn is a\nJudgment-day lyric of rude strength and once in current use, but now\nrarely printed. The \"Lo He Comes,\" here specially noted, is the\nproduction of John Cennick, the Moravian.\n\n Lo! He comes with clouds descending\n Once for favored sinners slain,\n Thousand thousand saints attending\n Swell the triumph of His train.\n Hallelujah!\n God appears on earth to reign.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Yea, amen; let all adore Thee\n High on Thy eternal throne.\n Saviour, take the power and glory,\n Claim the kingdom for thine own;\n O come quickly;\n Hallelujah! Come, Lord, come.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nVarious composers have written music to this universal hymn, but none\nhas given it a choral that it can claim as peculiarly its own. \"Brest,\"\nLowell Mason's plain-song, has a limited range, and runs low on the\nstaff, but its solemn chords are musical and commanding. As much can be\nsaid of the tunes of Dr. Dykes and Samuel Webbe, which have more\nvariety. Those who feel that the hymn calls for a more ornate melody\nwill prefer Madan's \"Helmsley.\"\n\n\n\"LO! WHAT A GLORIOUS SIGHT APPEARS.\"\n\nThe great Southampton bard who wrote \"Sweet fields beyond the swelling\nflood\" was quick to kindle at every reminder of Fruition Day.\n\n Lo! what a glorious sight appears\n To our believing eyes!\n The earth and seas are passed away,\n And the old rolling skies.\n From the third heaven, where God resides,\n That holy, happy place,\n The New Jerusalem comes down,\n Adorned with shining grace.\n\nThis hymn of Watts' sings one of his most exalted visions. It has been\ndear for two hundred years to every Christian soul throbbing with\nmillennial thoughts and wishful of the day when--\n\n The God of glory down to men\n Removes His best abode,\n\n--and when--\n\n His own kind hand shall wipe the tears\n From every weeping eye,\n And pains and groans, and griefs and fears,\n And death itself shall die,\n\n--and the yearning cry of the last stanza, when the vision fades, has\nbeen the household ? [A] of myriads of burdened and sorrowing saints--\n\n How long, dear Saviour, O how long\n Shall this bright hour delay?\n Fly swifter round ye wheels of Time,\n And bring the welcome day!\n\n[Footnote A: Transcriber's note--This question mark is in the original.\nIt is possibly a compositor's query which the author missed when\ncorrecting the proofs. The missing text could be \"word\".]\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nBy right of long appropriation both \"Northfield\" and \"New Jerusalem\" own\na near relationship to these glorious verses. Ingalls, one of the\nconstellation of early Puritan psalmodists, to which Billings and Swan\nbelonged, evidently loved the hymn, and composed his \"New Jerusalem\" to\nthe verse, \"From the third heaven,\" and his \"Northfield\" to \"How long,\ndear Saviour.\" The former is now sung only as a reminiscence of the\nmusic of the past, at church festivals, charity fairs and\nentertainments of similar design, but the action and hearty joy in it\nalways evoke sympathetic applause. \"Northfield\" is still in occasional\nuse, and it is a jewel of melody, however irretrievably out of fashion.\nIts union to that immortal stanza, if no other reason, seems likely to\ninsure its permanent place in the lists of sacred song.\n\nJohn Cole's \"Annapolis,\" still found in a few hymnals with these words,\nis a little too late to be called a contemporary piece, but there are\nsome reminders of Ingalls' \"New Jerusalem\" in its style and vigor, and\nit really partakes the flavor of the old New England church music.\n\nJeremiah Ingalls was born in Andover, Mass., March 1, 1764. A natural\nfondness for music increased with his years, but opportunities to\neducate it were few and far between, and he seemed like to become no\nmore than a fairly good bass-viol player in the village choir. But his\ndetermination carried him higher, and in time his self-taught talent\nqualified him for a singing-school master, and for many years he\ntravelled through Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont, training the\nraw vocal material in the country towns, and organizing choirs.\n\nBetween his thirtieth and fortieth years, he composed a number of tunes,\nand, in 1804 published a two hundred page collection of his own and\nothers' music, which he called the _Christian Harmony_.\n\nHis home was for some time in Newberry, Vt., but he subsequently lived\nat Rochester and at Hancock in the same state.\n\nAmong the traditions of him is this anecdote of the origin of his famous\ntune \"Northfield,\" which may indicate something of his temper and\nreligious habit. During his travels as a singing-school teacher he\nstopped at a tavern in the town of Northfield and ordered his dinner. It\nwas very slow in coming, but the inevitable \"how long?\" that formulated\nitself in his hungry thoughts, instead of sharpening into profane\ncomplaint, fell into the rhythm of Watts' sacred line--and the tune came\nwith it. To call it \"Northfield\" was natural enough; the place where its\nmelody first beguiled him from his bodily wants to a dream of the final\nFruition Day.\n\nIngalls died in Hancock, Vt., April 6, 1828.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nHYMNS OF HOPE AND CONSOLATION.\n\n\n\"JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN.\"\n\n_Urbs Sion Aurea._\n\n\"The Seven Great Hymns\" of the Latin Church are:\n\n Laus Patriae Coelestis,--(Praise of the Heavenly Country).\n Veni, Sancte Spiritus,--(Come, Holy Spirit)\n Veni, Creator Spiritus,--(Come, Creator Spirit)\n Dies Irae,--(The Day of Wrath)\n Stabat Mater,--(The Mother Stood By)\n Mater Speciosa,--(The Fair Mother.)\n Vexilla Regis.--(The Banner of the King.)\n\nChief of these is the first named, though that is but part of a\nreligious poem of three thousand lines, which the author, Bernard of\nCluny, named \"De Contemptu Mundi\" (Concerning Disdain of the World.)\n\nBernard was of English parentage, though born at Morlaix, a seaport town\nin the north of France. The exact date of his birth is unknown, though\nit was probably about A.D. 1100. He is called Bernard of Cluny because\nhe lived and wrote at that place, a French town on the Grone where he\nwas abbot of a famous monastery, and also to distinguish him from\nBernard of Clairvaux.\n\nHis great poem is rarely spoken of as a whole, but in three portions, as\nif each were a complete work. The first is the long exordium, exhausting\nthe pessimistic title (contempt of the world), and passing on to the\nsecond, where begins the real \"Laus Patriae Coelestis.\" This being cut\nin two, making a third portion, has enriched the Christian world with\ntwo of its best hymns, \"For Thee, O Dear, Dear Country,\" and \"Jerusalem\nthe Golden.\"\n\nBernard wrote the medieval or church Latin in its prime of literary\nrefinement, and its accent is so obvious and its rhythm so musical that\neven one ignorant of the language could pronounce it, and catch its\nrhymes. The \"Contemptu Mundi\" begins with these two lines, in a\nhexameter impossible to copy in translation:\n\n Hora novissima; tempora pessima sunt; Vigilemus!\n Ecce minaciter imminet Arbiter, Ille Supremus!\n\n 'Tis the last hour; the times are at their worst;\n Watch; lo the Judge Supreme stands threat'ning nigh!\n\nOr, as Dr. Neale paraphrases and softens it,--\n\n The World is very evil,\n The times are waxing late,\n Be sober and keep vigil,\n The Judge is at the gate,\n\n--and, after the poet's long, dark diorama of the world's wicked\ncondition, follows the \"Praise of the Heavenly Fatherland,\" when a\ntender glory dawns upon the scene till it breaks into sunrise with the\nvision of the Golden City. All that an opulent and devout imagination\ncan picture of the beauty and bounty of heaven, and all that faith can\nconstruct from the glimpses in the Revelation of its glory and happiness\nis poured forth in the lavish poetry of the inspired monk of Cluny--\n\n Urbs Sion aurea, patria lactea, cive decora,\n Omne cor obruis, omnibus obstruis, et cor et ora.\n Nescio, nescio quae jubilatio lux tibi qualis,\n Quam socialia gaudia, gloria quam specialis.\n\n Jerusalem, the golden;\n With milk and honey blest;\n Beneath thy contemplation\n Sink heart and voice opprest.\n I know not, O I know not\n What joys await us there,\n With radiancy of glory,\n With bliss beyond compare.\n\n They stand, those halls of Zion,\n All jubilant with song,[47]\n And bright with many an angel;\n And all the martyr throng.\n The Prince is ever in them,\n The daylight is serene;\n The pastures of the blessed\n Are decked in glorious sheen.\n\n * * * * *\n\n O sweet and blessed country,\n The home of God's elect!\n O sweet and blessed country,\n That eager hearts expect!\n Jesu, in mercy bring us\n To that dear land of rest,\n Who art, with God the Father,\n And Spirit, ever blest.\n\n[Footnote 47: In first editions, \"_conjubilant_ with song.\"]\n\nDr. John Mason Neale, the translator, was obliged to condense Bernard's\nexuberant verse, and he has done so with unsurpassable grace and melody.\nHe made his translation while \"inhibited\" from his priestly functions in\nthe Church of England for his high ritualistic views and practice, and\nso poor that he wrote stories for children to earn his living. His\npoverty added to the wealth of Christendom.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe music of \"Jerusalem the Golden\" used in most churches is the\ncomposition of Alexander Ewing, a paymaster in the English army. He was\nborn in Aberdeen, Scotland, Jan. 3d, 1830, and educated there at\nMarischal College. The tune bears his name, and this honor, and its\ngeneral favor with the public, are so much testimony to its merit. It is\na stately harmony in D major with sonorous and impressive chords. Ewing\ndied in 1895.\n\n\n\"WHY SHOULD WE START AND FEAR TO DIE?\"\n\nProbably it is an embarrassment of riches and despair of space that have\ncrowded this hymn--perhaps the sweetest that Watts ever wrote--out of\nsome of our church singing-books. It is pleasant to find it in the new\n_Methodist Hymnal_, though with an indifferent tune.\n\nChristians of today should surely sing the last two stanzas with the\nsame exalted joy and hope that made them sacred to pious generations\npast and gone--\n\n O if my Lord would come and meet,\n My soul would stretch her wings in haste.\n Fly fearless through death's iron gate,\n Nor feel the terrors as she passed.\n Jesus can make a dying bed\n Feel soft as downy pillows are,\n While on His breast I lean my head\n And breathe my life out sweetly there.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe plain-music of William Boyd's \"Pentecost,\" (with modulations in the\ntenor), creates a new accent for the familiar lines. Preferable in every\nsense are Bradbury's tender \"Zephyr\" or \"Rest.\"\n\nNo coming generation will ever feel the pious gladness of Amariah Hall's\n\"All Saints New\" in E flat major as it stirred the Christian choirs of\nseventy five years ago. Fitted to this heart-felt lyric of Watts, it\nopened with the words--\n\n O if my Lord would come and meet,\n\nin full harmony and four-four time, continuing to the end of the stanza.\nThe melody, with its slurred syllables and beautiful modulations was\nalmost blithe in its brightness, while the strong musical bass and the\nstriking chords of the \"counter,\" chastened it and held the anthem to\nits due solemnity of tone and expression. Then the fugue took up--\n\n Jesus can make a dying bed,\n\n--bass, treble and tenor adding voice after voice in the manner of the\nold \"canon\" song, and the full harmony again carried the words, with\nloving repetitions, to the final bar. The music closed with a minor\nconcord that was strangely effective and sweet.\n\nAmariah Hall was born in Raynham, Mass., April 28, 1785, and died there\nFeb. 8, 1827. He \"farmed it,\" manufactured straw-bonnets, kept tavern\nand taught singing-school. Music was only an avocation with him, but he\nwas an artist in his way, and among his compositions are found in some\nancient Tune books his \"Morning Glory,\" \"Canaan,\" \"Falmouth,\"\n\"Restoration,\" \"Massachusetts,\" \"Raynham,\" \"Crucifixion,\" \"Harmony,\"\n\"Devotion,\" \"Zion,\" and \"Hosanna.\"\n\n\"All Saints New\" was his masterpiece.\n\n\n\"WHEN I CAN READ MY TITLE CLEAR.\"\n\nNo sacred song has been more profanely parodied by the thoughtless, or\nmore travestied, (if we may use so strong a word), in popular religious\nairs, than this golden hymn which has made Isaac Watts a benefactor to\nevery prisoner of hope. Not to mention the fancy figures and refrains\nof camp-meeting music, which have cheapened it, neither John Cole's\n\"Annapolis\" nor Arne's \"Arlington\" nor a dozen others that have borrowed\nthese speaking lines, can wear out their association with \"Auld lang\nSyne.\" The hymn has permeated the tune, and, without forgetting its own\nwords, the Scotch melody preforms both a social and religious mission.\nSome arrangements of it make it needlessly repetitious, but its pathos\nwill always best vocalize the hymn, especially the first and last\nstanzas--\n\n When I can read my title clear\n To mansions in the skies\n I'll bid farewell to every fear\n And wipe my weeping eyes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n There shall I bathe my weary soul\n In seas of heavenly rest,\n And not a wave of trouble roll\n Across my peaceful breast.\n\n\n\"VITAL SPARK OF HEAVENLY FLAME.\"\n\nThis paraphrase, by Alexander Pope, of the Emperor Adrian's death-bed\naddress to his soul--\n\n Animula, vagula, blandula,\n Hospes, comesque corporis,\n\n--transfers the poetry and constructs a hymnic theme.\n\nAn old hymn writer by the name of Flatman wrote a Pindaric, somewhat\nsimilar to \"Adrian's Address,\" as follows:\n\n When on my sick-bed I languish,\n Full of sorrow, full of anguish,\n Fainting, gasping, trembling, crying,\n Panting, groaning, speechless, dying;\n Methinks I hear some gentle spirit say,\n \"Be not fearful, come away.\"\n\nPope combined these two poems with the words of Divine inspiration, \"O\ndeath, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?\" and made a\npagan philosopher's question the text for a triumphant Christian anthem\nof hope.\n\n Vital spark of heavenly flame,\n Quit, oh quit this mortal frame.\n Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,\n Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!\n Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,\n And let me languish into life.\n\n Hark! they whisper: angels say,\n \"Sister spirit, come away!\"\n What is this absorbs me quite,\n Steals my senses, shuts my sight,\n Drowns my spirit, draws my breath,\n Tell me, my soul, can this be death?\n\n The world recedes: it disappears:\n Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears\n With sounds seraphic ring.\n Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!\n O grave where is thy victory?\n O death, where is thy sting?\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe old anthem, \"The Dying Christian,\" or \"The Dying Christian to his\nSoul,\" which first made this lyric familiar in America as a musical\npiece, will never be sung again except at antique entertainments, but it\nhad an importance in its day.\n\nBeginning in quadruple time on four flats minor, it renders the first\nstanza in flowing concords largo affettuoso, and a single bass fugue,\nThen suddenly shifting to one flat, major, duple time, it executes the\nsecond stanza, \"Hark! they whisper\" ... \"What is this, etc.,\" in\nalternate pianissimo and forte phrases; and finally, changing to triple\ntime, sings the third triumphant stanza, andante, through staccato and\nfortissimo. The shout in the last adagio, on the four final bars, \"O\nDeath! O Death!\" softening with \"where is thy sting?\" is quite in the\nstyle of old orchestral magnificence.\n\nSince \"The Dying Christian\" ceased to appear in church music, the poem,\nfor some reason, seems not to have been recognized as a hymn. It is,\nhowever, a Christian poem, and a true lyric of hope and consolation,\nwhatever the character of the author or however pagan the original that\nsuggested it.\n\nThe most that is now known of Edward Harwood, the composer of the\nanthem, is that he was an English musician and psalmodist, born near\nBlackburn, Lancaster Co., 1707, and died about 1787.\n\n\n\"YOUR HARPS, YE TREMBLING SAINTS.\"\n\nThis hymn of Toplady,--unlike \"A Debtor to Mercy Alone,\" and \"Inspirer\nand Hearer of Prayer,\" both now little used,--stirs no controversial\nfeeling by a single line of his aggressive Calvinism. It is simply a\nsong of Christian gratitude and joy.\n\n Your harps, ye trembling saints\n Down from the willows take;\n Loud to the praise of Love Divine\n Bid every string awake.\n\n Though in a foreign land,\n We are not far from home,\n And nearer to our house above\n We every moment come.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Blest is the man, O God,\n That stays himself on Thee,\n Who waits for Thy salvation, Lord,\n Shall Thy salvation see.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\n\"Olmutz\" was arranged by Lowell Mason from a Gregorian chant. He set it\nhimself to Toplady's hymn, and it seems the natural music for it. The\nwords are also sometimes written and sung to Jonathan Woodman's \"State\nSt.\"\n\nJonathan Call Woodman was born in Newburyport, Mass., July 12, 1813. He\nwas the organist of St. George's Chapel, Flushing L.I. and a teacher,\ncomposer and compiler. His _Musical Casket_ was not issued until Dec.\n1858, but he wrote the tune of \"State St.\" in August, 1844. It was a\ncontribution to Bradbury's _Psalmodist_, which was published the same\nyear.\n\n\n\"YE GOLDEN LAMPS OF HEAVEN, FAREWELL.\"\n\nDr. Doddridge's \"farewell\" is not a note of regret. Unlike Bernard, he\nappreciates this world while he anticipates the better one, but his\ncontemplation climbs from God's footstool to His throne. His thought is\nin the last two lines of the second stanza, where he takes leave of the\nsun--\n\n My soul that springs beyond thy sphere\n No more demands thine aid.\n\nBut his fancy will find a function for the \"golden lamps\" even in the\nglory that swallows up their light--\n\n Ye stars are but the shining dust\n Of my divine abode,\n The pavement of those heavenly courts\n Where I shall dwell with God.\n\n The Father of eternal light\n Shall there His beams display,\n Nor shall one moment's darkness mix\n With that unvaried day.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe hymn has been assigned to \"Mt. Auburn,\" a composition of George\nKingsley, but a far better interpretation--if not best of all--is H.K.\nOliver's tune of \"Merton,\" (1847,) older, but written purposely for the\nwords.\n\n\n\"TRIUMPHANT ZION, LIFT THY HEAD.\"\n\nThis fine and stimulating lyric is Doddridge in another tone. Instead of\nsinging hope to the individual, he sounds a note of encouragement to\nthe church.\n\n Put all thy beauteous garments on,\n And let thy excellence be known;\n Decked in the robes of righteousness,\n The world thy glories shall confess.\n\n * * * * *\n\n God from on high has heard thy prayer;\n His hand thy ruins shall repair,\n Nor will thy watchful Monarch cease\n To guard thee in eternal peace.\n\nThe tune, \"Anvern,\" is one of Mason's charming melodies, full of vigor\nand cheerful life, and everything can be said of it that is said of the\nhymn. Duffield compares the hymn and tune to a ring and its jewel.\n\nIt is one of the inevitable freaks of taste that puts so choice a strain\nof psalmody out of fashion. Many younger pieces in the church manuals\ncould be better spared.\n\n\n\"SHRINKING FROM THE COLD HAND OF DEATH.\"\n\nThis is a hymn of contrast, the dark of recoiling nature making the\nbackground of the rainbow. Written by Charles Wesley, it has passed\namong his forgotten or mostly forgotten productions but is notable for\nthe frequent use of its 3rd stanza by his brother John. John Wesley, in\nhis old age, did not so much shrink from death as from the thought of\nits too slow approach. His almost constant prayer was, \"Lord, let me not\nlive to be useless.\" \"At every place,\" says Belcher, \"after giving to\nhis societies what he desired them to consider his last advice, he\ninvariably concluded with the stanza beginning--\n\n \"'Oh that, without a lingering groan,\n I may the welcome word receive.\n My body with my charge lay down,\n And cease at once to work and live.'\"\n\nThe anticipation of death itself by both the great evangelists ended\nlike the ending of the hymn--\n\n No anxious doubt, no guilty gloom\n Shall daunt whom Jesus' presence cheers;\n My Light, my Life, my God is come,\n And glory in His face appears.\n\n\n\"FOREVER WITH THE LORD.\"\n\nMontgomery had the Ambrosian gift of spiritual song-writing. Whatever\nmay be thought of his more ambitious descriptive or heroic pages of\nverse, and his long narrative poems, his lyrics and cabinet pieces are\ngems. The poetry in some exquisite stanzas of his \"Grave\" is a dream of\npeace:\n\n There is a calm for those who weep,\n A rest for weary mortals found;\n They softly lie and sweetly sleep\n Low in the ground.\n\n The storms that wreck the winter's sky\n No more disturb their deep repose\n Than summer evening's latest sigh\n That shuts the rose.\n\nBut in the poem, \"At Home in Heaven,\" which we are considering--with its\ndivine text in I Thess. 4:17--the Sheffield bard rises to the heights of\nvision. He wrote it when he was an old man. The contemplation so\nabsorbed him that he could not quit his theme till he had composed\ntwenty-two quatrains. Only four or five--or at most only seven of\nthem--are now in general use. Like his \"Prayer is the Soul's Sincere\nDesire,\" they have the pith of devotional thought in them, but are less\nsubjective and analytical.\n\n Forever with the Lord!\n Amen, so let it be,\n Life from the dead is in that word;\n 'Tis immortality.\n\n Here in the body pent,\n Absent from Him I roam,\n Yet nightly pitch my moving tent\n A day's march nearer home.\n\n My Father's house on high!\n Home of my soul, how near\n At times to faith's foreseeing eye\n Thy golden gates appear.\n\n I hear at morn and even,\n At noon and midnight hour,\n The choral harmonies of heaven\n Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower.\n\nThe last line has been changed to read--\n\n Seraphic music pour,\n\n--and finally the hymnals have dropped the verse and substituted others.\nThe new line is an improvement in melody but not in rhyme, and,\nbesides, it robs the stanza of its leading thought--heaven and earth\noffsetting each other, and heavenly music drowning earthly noise--a\nthought that is missed even in the rich cantos of \"Jerusalem the\nGolden.\"\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nNearly the whole school of good short metre tunes, from \"St. Thomas\" to\n\"Boylston\" have offered their notes to Montgomery's \"At Home in Heaven,\"\nbut the two most commonly recognized as its property are \"Mornington,\"\nnamed from Lord Mornington, its author, and I.B. Woodbury's familiar\nharmony, \"Forever with the Lord.\"\n\nGarret Colley Wellesley, Earl of Mornington, and ancestor of the Duke of\nWellington, was born in Dagan, Ireland, July 19, 1735. Remarkable for\nmusical talent when a child, he became a skilled violinist, organ-player\nand composer in boyhood, with little aid beyond his solitary study and\npractice. When scarcely twenty-one, the University of Dublin conferred\non him the degree of Doctor of Music, and a professorship. He excelled\nas a composer of glees, but wrote also tunes and anthems for the church,\nsome of which are still extant in the choir books of the Dublin\nCathedral Died March 22, 1781.\n\n\n\"HARK! HARK, MY SOUL!\"\n\nThe Methodist Reformation, while it had found no practical sympathy\nwithin the established church, left a deep sense of its reason and\npurpose in the minds of the more devout Episcopalians, and this feeling,\ninstead of taking form in popular revival methods, prompted them to\ndeeper sincerity and more spiritual fervor in their traditional rites of\nworship. Many of the next generation inherited this pious\necclesiasticism, and carried their loyalty to the old Christian culture\nto the extreme of devotion till they saw in the sacraments the highest\ngood of the soul. It was Keble's \"Christian Year\" and his \"Assize\nSermon\" that began the Tractarian movement at Oxford which brought to\nthe front himself and such men as Henry Newman and Frederick William\nFaber.\n\nThe hymns and sacred poems of these sacramentarian Christians would\ncertify to their earnest piety, even if their lives were unknown.\n\nFaber's hymn \"Hark, Hark My Soul,\" is welcomed and loved by every\nChristian sect for its religious spirit and its lyric beauty.\n\n Hark! hark, my soul! angelic songs are swelling\n O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore;\n How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling\n Of that new life where sin shall be no more.\n\n REFRAIN\n Angels of Jesus, angels of light\n Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.\n\n Onward we go, for still we hear them singing\n \"Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come,\"\n And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing,\n The music of the gospel leads us home.\n Angels of Jesus.\n\n Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing,\n The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea,\n And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing,\n Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee.\n Angels of Jesus.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nJohn B. Dykes and Henry Smart--both masters of hymn-tune\nconstruction--have set this hymn to music. \"Vox Angelica\" in B flat, the\nwork of the former, is a noble composition for choir or congregation,\nbut \"Pilgrim,\" the other's interpretation, though not dissimilar in\nmovement and vocal range, has, perhaps, the more sympathetic melody. It\nis, at least, the favorite in many localities. Some books print the two\non adjacent pages as optionals.\n\nAnother much-loved hymn of Faber's is--\n\n O Paradise, O Paradise!\n Who doth not crave for rest?\n Who would not see the happy land\n Where they that loved are blest?\n\n REFRAIN\n Where loyal hearts and true\n Stand ever in the light,\n All rapture through and through\n In God's most holy sight.\n\n O Paradise, O Paradise,\n The world is growing old;\n Who would not be at rest and free\n Where love is never cold.\n\n Where loyal hearts and true.\n\n O Paradise, O Paradise,\n I greatly long to see\n The special place my dearest Lord,\n In love prepares for me.\n\n Where loyal hearts and true.\n\nThis aspiration, from the ardent soul of the poet has been interpreted\nin song by the same two musicians, and by Joseph Barnby--all with the\ntitle \"Paradise.\" Their similarity of style and near equality of merit\nhave compelled compilers to print at least two of them side by side for\nthe singers' choice. A certain pathos in the strains of Barnby's\ncomposition gives it a peculiar charm to many, and in America it is\nprobably the oftenest sung to the words.\n\nDr. David Breed, speaking of Faber's \"unusual\" imagination, says, \"He\ngot more out of language than any other poet of the English tongue, and\nused words--even simple words--so that they rendered him a service which\nno other poet ever secured from them.\" The above hymns are\ncharacteristic to a degree, but the telling simplicity of his\nstyle--almost quaint at times--is more marked in \"There's a Wideness in\nGod's Mercy,\" given on p. 234.\n\n[Illustration: Horatius Bonar, D.D.]\n\n\n\"BEYOND THE SMILING AND THE WEEPING.\"\n\nThis song of hope--one of the most strangely tuneful and rune-like of\nDr. Bonar's hymn-poems--is less frequently sung owing to the peculiarity\nof its stanza form. But it scarcely needs a staff of notes--\n\n Beyond the smiling and the weeping\n I shall be soon;\n Beyond the waking and the sleeping,\n Beyond the sowing and the reaping\n I shall be soon.\n\n REFRAIN\n Love, rest and home!\n Sweet hope!\n Lord, tarry not, but come.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Beyond the parting and the meeting\n I shall be soon;\n Beyond the farewell and the greeting,\n Beyond the pulses' fever-beating\n I shall be soon.\n Love, rest and home!\n\n Beyond the frost-chain and the fever\n I shall be soon;\n Beyond the rock-waste and the river\n Beyond the ever and the never\n I shall be soon.\n Love, rest and home!\n\nThe wild contrasts and reverses of earthly vicissitude are spoken and\nfelt here in the sequence of words. Perpetual black-and-white through\ntime; then the settled life and untreacherous peace of eternity.\nEverywhere in the song the note of heavenly hope interrupts the wail of\ndisappointment, and the chorus returns to transport the soul from the\nland of emotional whirlwinds to unbroken rest.\n\n\n_THE TUNES._\n\nMr. Bradbury wrote an admirable tune to this hymn, though the one since\ncomposed by Mr. Stebbins has in some localities superseded it in popular\nfavor. Skill in following the accent and unequal rhythms produces a\nmelodious tone-poem, and completes the impression of Bonar's singular\nbut sweet lyric of hope which suggests a chant-choral rather than a\nregular polyphonic harmony. W.A. Tarbutton and the young composer, Karl\nHarrington, have set the hymn to music, but the success of their work\nawaits the public test.\n\n\n\"WE SHALL MEET BEYOND THE RIVER.\"\n\nThe words were written by Rev. John Atkinson, D.D., in January, 1867,\nsoon after the death of his mother. He had been engaged in revival work\nand one night in his study, \"that song, in substance, seemed,\" he says,\n\"to sing itself into my heart.\" He said to himself, \"I would better\nwrite it down, or I shall lose it.\"\n\n\"There,\" he adds, \"in the silence of my study, and not far from\nmidnight, I wrote the hymn.\"\n\n We shall meet beyond the river\n By and by, by and by;\n And the darkness will be over\n By and by, by and by.\n\n With the toilsome journey done,\n And the glorious battle won.\n We shall shine forth as the sun\n By and by, by and by.\n\nThe Rev. John Atkinson was born in Deerfield, N.J. Sept. 6, 1835. A\nclergyman of the Methodist denomination, he is well-known as one of its\nwriters. The _Centennial History of American Methodism_ is his work, and\nbesides the above hymn, he has written and published _The Garden of\nSorrows_, and _The Living Way_. He died Dec. 8, 1897.\n\nThe tune to \"We Shall Meet,\" by Hubert P. Main, composed in 1867,\nexactly translates the emotional hymn into music. S.J. Vail also wrote\nmusic to the words. The hymn, originally six eight-line stanzas, was\ncondensed at his request to its present length and form by Fanny Crosby.\n\n\n\"ONE SWEETLY SOLEMN THOUGHT.\"\n\nPhebe Cary, the author of this happy poem, was the younger of the two\nCary sisters, Alice and Phebe, names pleasantly remembered in American\nliterature. The praise of one reflects the praise of the other when we\nare told that Phebe possessed a loving and trustful soul, and her life\nwas an honor to true womanhood and a blessing to the poor. She had to\nstruggle with hardship and poverty in her early years: \"I have cried in\nthe street because I was poor,\" she said in her prosperous years, \"and\nthe poor always seem nearer to me than the rich.\"\n\nWhen reputation came to her as a writer, she removed from her little\ncountry home near Cincinnati, O., where she was born, in 1824, and\nsettled in New York City with her sister. She died at Newport, N.Y.,\nJuly 31, 1871, and her hymn was sung at her funeral. Her remains rest in\nGreenwood Cemetery.\n\n\"One Sweetly Solemn Thought,\" was written in 1852, during a visit to one\nof her friends. She wrote (to her friend's inquiry) years afterwards\nthat it first saw the light \"in your own house ... in the little back\nthird-story bedroom, one Sunday after coming from church.\" It was a\nheart experience noted down without literary care or artistic effort,\nand in its original form was in too irregular measure to be sung. She\nset little value upon it as a poem, but when shown hesitatingly to\ninquiring compilers, its intrinsic worth was seen, and various revisions\nof it were made. The following is one of the best versions--stanzas one,\ntwo and three:--\n\n One sweetly solemn thought\n Comes to me o'er and o'er,\n I am nearer home to-day,\n Than I ever have been before.\n\n Nearer my Father's house,\n Where the many mansions be,\n Nearer the great white throne,\n Nearer the crystal sea.\n\n Nearer the bound of life,\n Where we lay our burdens down,\n Nearer leaving the cross\n Nearer gaining the crown.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThe old revival tune of \"Dunbar,\" with its chorus, \"There'll be no more\nsorrow there,\" has been sung to the hymn, but the tone-lyric of Philip\nPhillips, \"Nearer Home,\" has made the words its own, and the public are\nmore familiar with it than with any other. It was this air that a young\nman in a drinking house in Macao, near Hong-Kong, began humming\nthoughtlessly while his companion was shuffling the cards for a new\ngame. Both were Americans, the man with the cards more than twenty years\nthe elder. Noticing the tune, he threw down the pack. Every word of the\nhymn had come back to him with the echo of the music.\n\n\"Harry, where did you learn that hymn?\"\n\n\"What hymn?\"\n\n\"Why the one you have been singing.\"\n\nThe young man said he did not know what he had been singing. But when\nthe older one repeated some of the lines, he said they were learned in\nthe Sunday-school.\n\n\"Come, Harry,\" said the older one, \"here's what I've won from you. As\nfor me, as God sees me, I have played my last game, and drank my last\nbottle. I have misled you, Harry, and I am sorry for it. Give me your\nhand, my boy, and say that, for old America's sake, if for no other,\nyou will quit this infernal business.\"\n\nCol. Russel H. Conwell, of Boston, (now Rev. Dr. Conwell of\nPhiladelphia) who was then visiting China, and was an eye-witness of the\nscene, says that the reformation was a permanent one for both.\n\n\n\"I WILL SING YOU A SONG OF THAT BEAUTIFUL LAND.\"\n\nOne day, in the year 1865, Mrs. Ellen M.H. Gates received a letter from\nPhilip Phillips noting the passage in the _Pilgrim's Progress_ which\ndescribes the joyful music of heaven when Christian and Hopeful enter on\nits shining shore beyond the river of death, and asking her to write a\nhymn in the spirit of the extract, as one of the numbers in his _Singing\nPilgrim_. Mrs. Gates complied--and the sequel of the hymn she wrote is\npart of the modern song-history of the church. Mr. Phillips has related\nhow, when he received it, he sat down with his little boy on his knee,\nread again the passage in Bunyan, then the poem again, and, turning to\nhis organ, pencil in hand, pricked the notes of the melody. \"The 'Home\nof the Soul,'\" he says, \"seems to have had God's blessing from the\nbeginning, and has been a comfort to many a bereaved soul. Like many\nloved hymns, it has had a peculiar history, for its simple melody has\nflowed from the lips of High Churchmen, and has sought to make itself\nheard above the din of Salvation Army cymbals and drums. It has been\nsung in prisons and in jailyards, while the poor convict was waiting to\nbe launched into eternity, and on hundreds of funeral occasions. One man\nwrites me that he has led the singing of it at one hundred and twenty\nfunerals. It was sung at my dear boy's funeral, who sat on my knee when\nI wrote it. It is my prayer that God may continue its solace and\ncomfort. I have books containing the song now printed in seven different\nlanguages.\"\n\nA writer in the _Golden Rule_ (now the _Christian Endeavor World_) calls\nattention to an incident on a night railroad train narrated in the late\nBenjamin F. Taylor's _World on Wheels_, in which \"this hymn appears as a\nsort of Traveller's Psalm.\" Among the motley collection of passengers,\nsome talkative, some sleepy, some homesick and cross, all tired, sat two\nplain women who, \"would make capital country aunts.... If they were\nmothers at all they were good ones.\" Suddenly in a dull silence, near\ntwelve o'clock, a voice, sweet and flexible, struck up a tune. The\nsinger was one of those women. \"She sang on, one after another the good\nMethodist and Baptist melodies of long ago,\" and the growing interest of\nthe passengers became chained attention when she began--\n\n \"I will sing you a song of that beautiful land,\n The far-away home of the soul,\n Where no storms can beat on the glittering strand,\n While the years of eternity roll.\n\n O, that home of the soul, in my visions and dreams,\n Its bright jasper walls I can see;\n Till I fancy but thinly the veil intervenes\n Between the fair city and me.\"\n\n\"The car was a wakeful hush long before she had ended; it was as if a\nbeautiful spirit were floating through the air. None that heard will\never forget. Philip Phillips can never bring that 'home of the soul' any\nnearer to anybody. And never, I think, was quite so sweet a voice lifted\nin a storm of a November night on the rolling plains of Iowa.\"\n\nIn an autograph copy of her hymn, sent to the editor, Mrs. Gates changes\n\"harps\" to \"palms.\" Is it an improvement? \"Palms\" is a word of two\nmeanings.\n\n O how sweet it will be in that beautiful land,\n So free from all sorrow and pain,\n With songs on our lips and with harps in our hands\n To meet one another again.\n\n\n\"THERE'S A LAND THAT IS FAIRER THAN DAY.\"\n\nThis belongs rather with \"Christian Ballads\" than with genuine hymns,\nbut the song has had and still has an uplifting mission among the lowly\nwhom literary perfection and musical nicety could not touch--and the\nfirst two lines, at least, are good hymn-writing. Few of the best sacred\nlyrics have been sung with purer sentiment and more affectionate fervor\nthan \"The Sweet By-and-By.\" To any company keyed to sympathy by time,\nplace, and condition, the feeling of the song brings unshed tears.\n\nAs nearly as can be ascertained it was in the year 1867 that a man about\nforty-eight years old, named Webster, entered the office of Dr. Bennett\nin Elkhorn. Wis., wearing a melancholy look, and was rallied\ngood-naturedly by the doctor for being so blue--Webster and Bennett were\nfriends, and the doctor was familiar with the other's frequent fits of\ngloom.\n\nThe two men had been working in a sort of partnership, Webster being a\nmusician and Bennett a ready verse-writer, and together they had created\nand published a number of sheet-music songs. When Webster was in a fit\nof melancholy, it was the doctor's habit to give him a \"dose\" of new\nverses and cure him by putting him to work. Today the treatment turned\nout to be historic.\n\n\"What's the matter now,\" was the doctor's greeting when his \"patient\"\ncame with the tell-tale face.\n\n\"O, nothing,\" said Webster. \"It'll be all right by and by.\"\n\n\"Why not make a song of the sweet by and by?\" rejoined the doctor,\ncheerfully.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Webster, after thinking a second or two. \"If you'll\nmake the words, I'll write the music.\"\n\nThe doctor went to his desk, and in a short time produced three stanzas\nand a chorus to which his friend soon set the notes of a lilting air,\nbrightening up with enthusiasm as he wrote. Seizing his violin, which\nhe had with him, he played the melody, and in a few minutes more he had\nfilled in the counterpoint and made a complete hymn-tune. By that time\ntwo other friends, who could sing, had come in and the quartette tested\nthe music on the spot. Here different accounts divide widely as to the\nimmediate sequel of the new-born song.\n\nA Western paper in telling its story a year or two ago, stated that\nWebster took the \"Sweet By and By\" (in sheet-music form), with a batch\nof other pieces, to Chicago, and that it was the only song of the lot\nthat Root and Cady would not buy; and finally, after he had tried in\nvain to sell it, Lyon and Healy took it \"out of pity,\" and paid him\ntwenty dollars. They sold eight or ten copies (the story continued) and\nstowed it away with dead goods, and it was not till apparently a long\ntime after, when a Sunday-school hymn-book reprinted it, and began to\nsell rapidly on its account, that the \"Sweet By and By\" started on its\ncareer round the world.\n\nThis seems circumstantial enough, and the author of the hymn in his own\nstory of it might have chosen to omit some early particulars, but,\nuntrustworthy as the chronology of mere memory is, he would hardly\nrecord immediate popularity of a song that lay in obscurity for years.\nDr. Bennett's words are, \"I think it was used in public shortly after\n[its production], for within two weeks children on the street were\nsinging it.\"\n\nThe explanation may be partly the different method and order of the\nstatements, partly lapses of memory (after thirty years) and partly in\ncollateral facts. The Sunday-school hymn-book was evidently _The Signet\nRing_, which Bennett and Webster were at work upon and into which first\nwent the \"Sweet By and By\"--whatever efforts may have been made to\ndispose of it elsewhere or whatever copyright arrangement could have\nwarranted Mr. Healy in purchasing a song already printed. The _Signet\nRing_ did not begin to profit by the song until the next year, after a\ncopy of it appeared in the publishers' circulars, and started a demand;\nso that the _immediate_ popularity implied in Doctor Bennett's account\nwas limited to the children of Elkhorn village.\n\nThe piece had its run, but with no exceptional result as to its hold on\nthe public, until in 1873 Ira D. Sankey took it up as one of his working\nhymns. Modified from its first form in the \"_Signet Ring_\" with\npianoforte accompaniment and chorus, it appeared that year in _Winnowed\nHymns_ as arranged by Hubert P. Main, and it has so been sung ever\nsince.\n\nSanford Filmore Bennett, born in 1836, appears to have been a native of\nthe West, or, at least, removed there when a young man. In 1861 he\nsettled in Elkhorn to practice his profession. Died Oct., 1898.\n\nJoseph Philbrick Webster was born in Manchester, N.H. March 22, 1819. He\nwas an active member of the Handel and Haydn Society, and various other\nmusical associations. Removed to Madison, Ind. 1851, Racine, Wis. 1856,\nand Elkhorn, Wis., 1857, where he died Jan. 18, 1875. His _Signet Ring_\nwas published in 1868.\n\n There's a land that is fairer than day,\n And by faith I can see it afar\n For the Father waits over the way\n To prepare us a dwelling-place there.\n\n CHORUS\n In the sweet by and by\n We shall meet on that beautiful shore.\n\n We shall sing on that beautiful shore\n The melodious songs of the blest,\n And our spirits shall sorrow no more,\n Nor sigh for the blessing of rest.\n In the sweet by and by, etc.\n\n\n\"SUNSET AND EVENING STAR.\"\n\nWas it only a poet's imagination that made Alfred Tennyson approach\nperhaps nearest of all great Protestants to a sense of the real\n\"Presence,\" every time he took the Holy Communion at the altar? Whatever\nthe feeling was, it characterized all his maturer life, so far as its\nspiritual side was known. His remark to a niece expressed it, while\nwalking with her one day on the seashore, \"God is with us now, on this\ndown, just as truly as Jesus was with his two disciples on the way to\nEmmaus.\"\n\nSuch a man's faith would make no room for dying terrors.\n\n Sunset and evening star,\n And one clear call for me,\n And may there be no moaning of the bar\n When I put out to sea,\n\n But such a tide as, moving, seems asleep,\n Too full for sound and foam,\n When that which drew from out the boundless deep\n Turns again home.\n\n Twilight and evening bell,\n And after that the dark,\n And may there be no sadness of farewell\n When I embark.\n\n For though from out our bourne of time and place\n The flood may bear me far,\n I hope to see my Pilot face to face\n When I have crossed the bar.\n\nTennyson lived three years after penning this sublime prayer. But it was\nhis swan-song. Born at Somersby, Lincolnshire, Aug. 63 1809, dying at\nFarringford, Oct. 6, 1892, he filled out the measure of a good old age.\nAnd his prayer was answered, for his death was serene and dreadless. His\nunseen Pilot guided him gently \"across the bar\"--and then _he saw Him_.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nJoseph Barnby's \"Crossing the Bar\" has supplied a noble choral to this\npoem. It will go far to make it an accepted tone in church worship,\namong the more lyrical strains of verse that sing hope and euthanasia.\n\n\n\"SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS.\"\n\nIf Tennyson had the mistaken feeling (as Dr. Benson intimates) \"that\nhymns were expected to be commonplace,\" it was owing both to his mental\nbreeding and his mental stature. Genius in a colossal frame cannot\notherwise than walk in strides. What is technically a hymn he never\nwrote, but it is significant that as he neared the Shoreless Sea, and\nlooked into the Infinite, his sense of the Divine presence instilled\nsomething of the hymn spirit into his last verses.\n\nBetween Alfred Tennyson singing trustfully of his Pilot and Fanny Crosby\nsinging \"Safe in the Arms of Jesus,\" is only the width of the choir. The\norgan tone and the flute-note breathe the same song. The stately poem\nand the sweet one, the masculine and the feminine, both have wings, but\nwhile the one is lifted in anthem and solemn chant in the great\nsanctuaries, the other is echoing Isaiah's tender text[48] in prayer\nmeeting and Sunday-school and murmuring it at the humble firesides like\na mother's lullaby.\n\n[Footnote 48: Isa. 40:11.]\n\n Safe in the arms of Jesus,\n Safe on His gentle breast,\n There by His love o'ershaded\n Sweetly my soul shall rest.\n Hark! 'tis the voice of angels\n Borne in a song to me\n Over the fields of glory,\n Over the jasper sea.\n\n REFRAIN\n Safe in the arms of Jesus (1st four lines rep.).\n\n Safe in the arms of Jesus,\n Safe from corroding care,\n Safe from the world's temptations,\n Sin cannot harm me there.\n Free from the blight of sorrow,\n Free from my doubts and fears,\n Only a few more trials,\n Only a few more tears.\n\n Safe in the arms of Jesus.\n\n Jesus, my heart's dear refuge\n Jesus has died for me;\n Firm on the Rock of Ages\n Ever my trust shall be,\n Here let me with patience,\n Wait till the night is o'er,\n Wait till I see the morning\n Break on the Golden Shore.\n\n Safe in the arms of Jesus.\n\n --Composed 1868.\n\n\n_THE TUNE._\n\nThose who have characterized the _Gospel Hymns_ as \"sensational\" have\nalways been obliged to except this modest lyric of Christian peace and\nits sweet and natural musical supplement by Dr. W.H. Doane. No hurried\nand high-pitched chorus disturbs the quiet beauty of the hymn, a simple\n_da capo_ being its only refrain. \"Safe in the Arms of Jesus\" sang\nitself into public favor with the pulses of hymn and tune beating\ntogether.\n\n\n\n\n INDEX OF NAMES.\n\n ABBOT, Lyman, 237, 326\n ABT, Franz, 228, 364\n ADAMS, E., 369\n ADAMS, John, 368\n ADAMS, John Quincy, 293\n ADAMS, Sarah F., 152\n ADDISON, Joseph, 113, 114, 353\n ADRIAN, (Emperor), 515\n AIBLINGER, Johan Caspar, 357\n ALDRICH, Jonathan, 287\n ALEXANDER, Mrs. C.F., 414\n ALLEN, George N., 412\n ALLEN, J.O., 129\n ALMOND, ----, 364, 365\n ALTENBURG, Johan M., 84\n AMBROSE, xiii, 1, 2, 3\n ANATOLIUS, 354\n APES, William, 265\n ARATUS, 237\n ARNE, Thomas A., 107, 108\n ARNOLD, Matthew, 109\n ARNOLD, S., 287\n ATCHISON, John B., 451\n ATKINSON, John, 528, 529\n AUBER, Harriet, 168, 169\n AUGUSTINE, ix, 2, 3\n AVISON, Charles, 327\n\n BACH, Emanuel, 9\n BACH, Sebastian, 9, 71\n BAILEY, Thomas H., 112\n BAKER, Sir Henry, 57\n BALDWIN, Thomas, 262\n BARLOW, Joel, 242, 243\n BARNBY, Joseph, 102, 111, 469, 500,\n 504, 526, 539\n BARNES, Albert, 35\n BARTHELEMON, F.H., 202, 222\n BASIL THE GREAT, 56\n BASSINI, ----, 444\n BEANES, William, 333\n BEDDOME, Benjamin, 160, 169\n BEECHER, Henry Ward, 218\n BEETHOVEN, Ludwig Von, 5, 193, 327, 338\n BELCHER, Dr., 44\n BENNETT, Sanford F., 535-537\n BENSON, Louis F., 204, 206\n BENTHAM, Jeremy, 97\n BERKELEY, Bp. George, 324-326\n BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, 100\n BERNARD OF CLUNY, 407, 510, 511, 519\n BERRIDGE, John, 122, 123, 503\n BERTHOLD OF TOURS, 55\n BEZA, Theodore, xvi\n BIGLOW AND MAIN, 229\n BILLINGS, William, 16, 327, 332, 333, 475\n BISHOP, Sir Henry, 135\n BLACKALL, C.R., 450\n BLISS, Mrs. J. Worthington, 259\n BLISS, Philip P., 155, 156, 319, 372,\n 421, 422, 424, 431,\n 436, 437, 442, 444, 454\n BLOOMFIELD, Dorothy, 503\n BOARDMAN, George Dana, 247\n BOHLER, Peter, 46\n BONAPARTE, Napoleon, 97, 389\n BONAR, Horatius, 225, 226, 228,\n 309, 490, 415, 527\n BONAR, James, 490\n BONAVENTURA, 54, 458\n BORTHWICK, Jane, 103, 499\n BORTNIANSKY, Dimitri, 213\n BOTTOME, Francis, 433\n BOURDALOUE, 13\n BOURGEOIS, Louis, 15\n BOWRING, Sir John, 97, 98, 170, 501\n BOYD, William, 513\n BRADBURY, William B., 106, 107, 215,\n 217, 235, 311, 312,\n 363, 410, 513, 528\n BRADY, Nicholas, 12, 14, 193\n BRAINERD, David, 263\n BREED, David R., 171, 176, 180, 226, 526\n BROOKS, Charles T., 348\n BROOKS, Bp. Phillips, x, 164, 169\n BROWN, John, 342\n BROWN, Phebe H., 229-232, 482\n BROWN, Samuel, 232\n BROWN, Theron, 188, 476, 480\n BROWN, Timothy H., 229\n BRUCE, Michael, 297\n BRUNDAGE, ----, 454\n BULL, John, 338\n BURGMUeLLER, F., 425\n BURNEY, Charles, 241, 407\n BURNS, Robert, 333, 336, 367\n BUTE, Walter, 379, 380\n BUTTERWORTH, Hezekiah, v, vi, 186,\n 187, 252, 254\n\n CALDWELL, William, 277\n CAMPBELL, David E., 222\n CAMPBELL, Jane M., 478\n CAMPBELL, Robert, 61\n CARADOC, ----, 381\n CAREY, Henry, 339\n CAREY, William, 172, 491, 492\n CAROLINE, (Queen), 203\n CARY, Phebe, 407, 529, 530\n CARTWRIGHT, Peter, 271, 272\n CASE, Charles C., 187\n CASWALL, Edward, 75, 101, 459\n CAWOOD, John, 414, 465\n CELANO, Thomas di., 62, 63\n CENNICK, John, 124, 126, 504\n CHALMERS, Thomas, 225, 226\n CHANDLER, John, 485\n CHANDLER, S., 270\n CHAPIN, Amzi, 275\n CHARLEMAGNE, 5\n CHARLES, David, 403\n CHARLES, Thomas, 401\n CIBBER, Mrs., 108\n CLARK, Jeremiah, 9\n CLARKE, Adam, 177\n CLAUDIUS, Matthias, 478\n CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, 294, 296\n CLEPHANE, Elizabeth C., 423\n CLICHTOVIUS, 5\n COLE, John, 115, 479, 507, 515\n COLES, George, 126, 127, 285\n COLLYER, William B., 72, 73\n COLUMBUS, Christopher, 356\n CONDER, Josiah, 489\n CONKEY, Ithamar, 99, 249\n CONVERSE, Charles Crozat, 426\n CONWELL, Russell H., 532\n COOK, Martha A.W., 148, 149\n COOK, Parsons, 148, 149\n COOPER, George, 312\n CORELLI, Arcangelo, 39\n CORNELL, J.B., 438\n CORNELL, John Henry, 96, 355, 415\n CORSE, Gen. G.M., 424\n COUSIN, Anne R., 78, 82\n COVERT, 333\n COWDELL, Samuel, 265\n COWPER, William, x, 129, 131,\n 176, 192, 403\n CROFT, William, 204\n CROSBY, Fanny J., 156, 184, 312,\n 425, 438, 546\n CUYLER, Theodore L., 377\n CYPRIAN OF CARTHAGE, 1\n\n DADMUN, J.W., 272\n DAGGET, Simeon, 330\n DANA, Mary S.B., 287, 288\n DARTMOUTH, Lord, 269\n DAVENANT, Sir William, 306\n DE GROOTE, Gerard, 67\n DE LA MOTHE, Jeanne M.B., 190, 191\n DE LISLE, Roget, 329\n DENHAM, David, 134\n DERMID, (King), 328\n DEXTER, Henry M., 294, 296\n DITSON, Oliver, vii, 413\n DIXON, William, 36\n DOANE, Bp. George W., 482, 483\n DOANE, William H., 157, 425, 429, 430,\n 438, 450, 480, 541\n DODDRIDGE, Philip, 116, 117, 169, 410,\n 413, 476, 488, 495, 519\n DODGE, Ossian E., 333\n DOUGLAS, George, vii\n DOW, Howard M., 502\n DOW, Lorenzo, 272\n DOW, Peggy, 272\n DRAPER, Bourne H., 171\n DUNBAR, E.W., 288\n D'URHAN, Christian, 82\n DUTTON, Deodatus, 232\n DWIGHT, H.O., 462\n DWIGHT, John S., 347, 348\n DWIGHT, Timothy, 29, 133, 134\n DYKES, John B., 51, 57, 65, 104,\n 152, 224, 228, 363,\n 370, 372, 465, 525\n EDMESTON, James, 299, 488\n EDSON, Lewis, 395, 476\n EDWARDS, Jonathan, 263\n ELIAS, John, 390\n ELIZABETH, (Queen), 17\n ELLIOTT, Charlotte, 214, 215\n ELLIOT, Ebenezer, 183\n ELLSWORTH, J.S., 437\n EMERSON, Ralph Waldo, 339, 340\n EPHREM, Syrus, 56\n ERBURY, ----, 381\n ESLING, Catherine, 208, 209, 482\n EVANS, Evelyn, 407\n EVANS, Heber, 399\n EVANS, John Miller, 369\n EVANS, Thomas, 401\n EWING, Alexander, 512\n\n FABER, Frederick W., 233, 234, 302, 524\n FAURE, Jean Baptiste, 470\n FAWCETT, John, 132, 133\n FINDLATER, Mrs., 103\n FISCHER, William Gustavus, 429\n FLATMAN, ----, 515\n FORTUNATUS, Venantius, 357, 472\n FOSTER, Paul, vii\n FRANC, Guillaume, 194\n FRANCIS, Benjamin, 132\n FRANKENBERRY, A.D., 424\n FREDERICK, (King), 94\n FREEMAN, John E., 222\n FROTHINGHAM, N.L., ix\n FULBERT, Bp., 59-61\n\n GARDINER, William, 48, 130\n GATES, Bernard, 96\n GATES, Ellen M.H., vii, 256, 258,\n 430, 449, 532, 534\n GAUNTLETT, Henry I., 48, 483\n GELLERT, C.F., 473\n GEORGE I, (King), 11\n GERHARDT, Paul, 84, 85, 87, 88, 93\n GIARDINI, Felice, 227\n GILMORE, Joseph Henry, 235, 236\n GLADSTONE, William E., 139, 140\n GLASER, Carl, 48\n GLENELG, Lord, 22\n GOODE, William, 14, 31\n GORDON, A.J., 162, 164\n GORDON, Mrs. A.J., vii\n GOTTSCHALK, Louis, 483\n GOUGH, John B., 215\n GOULD, Eliza, 151\n GOULD, John Edgar, 374, 468, 488\n GOULD, Sabine Baring, 185\n GRANNIS, Sidney M., 259\n GRAPE, John T., 429\n GRANT, Sir Robert, 21, 22, 212\n GREGORY NAZIANZEN, 56\n GREGORY THE GREAT, (Pope), xiii, xiv, 8, 10\n GRENADE, John, 298\n GRIFFITHS, Ann, 396-399\n GRIFFITHS, Edward, 386\n GRIGGS, ----, 102\n GROOTE, Gerald de, 67\n GUIDO, Arentino, xiv\n GUILD, Curtis, 206\n GURNEY, Mrs., 503\n GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, (King), 82-84\n GUYON, Madame, 190, 192\n\n HAGUE, John R., vii\n HALL, Amasiah, 513, 514\n HALL, Elvina M., 426\n HAMMOND, William, 29\n HANDEL, George Frederick, 11, 31, 134,\n 166, 414\n HANKEY, Kate, 427, 429\n HANNA, Ione T., 456\n HARRINGTON, C.S., 149\n HARRINGTON, Karl, 528\n HARRIS, Howell, 381, 387, 388\n HARRIS, Thomas, 366\n HARRISON, Ralph, 48\n HART, Joseph, 119, 121\n HAREWOOD, Edward, 517\n HASTINGS, H.L., 204\n HASTINGS, Thomas, 25, 59, 142, 160,\n 168, 174, 219-221, 223\n HATFIELD, C.F., 14\n HATTON, John, 37\n HATTON, John Liphot, 37\n HAVERGAL, Frances Ridley, 154, 155\n HAVERGAL, William Henry, 227\n HAWKES, Annie S., 153\n HAWKES, Robert, 14\n HAYDN, Joseph, 32\n HAYWARD, Thomas, 488\n HEARN, Marianne Farningham, 441, 442\n HEATH, George, 143\n HEATH, Lyman, 247\n HEBER, Bp. Reginald, 4, 50, 51,\n 178, 179, 318\n HEDGE, Frederick H., 71\n HEMANS, Felicia, 196, 359, 323, 324, 333\n HENRY vii, (King), 18\n HEWS, George, 407, 483, 484\n HICKS, John J., 272\n HILARY, Bp., xiii\n HILLER, Ferdinand, 65, 66\n HINSDALE, George, 229\n HODGES, Edward, 212, 464\n HOLBROOK, Joseph P., 360, 364, 501\n HOLDEN, Oliver, 27, 28\n HOLMES, O.W., 52, 249, 344\n HOLROYD, Israel, 409\n HOLZMAN, ----, 329\n HOPKINS, Edward, 30, 112\n HOPKINS, John, 15\n HOPKINSON, Joseph, 331\n HOPPER, Edward, 373\n HORDER, Garrett, 489\n HOWARD, John, 24\n HOWE, Julia Ward, 340, 343\n HUCBALD, xiii\n HUFFER, Francis, 95\n HUGHES AND SON, vii\n HUGHES, Mrs., 359\n HUMPHREYS, Cecil Frances, 414\n HUNTER, William, 272, 288, 289\n HUNTINGDON, (Lady) Selina, 25, 88, 89,\n 119, 128, 201\n HUNTINGTON, DeWitt C., 436\n HUSBAND, John Jenkins, 416\n HYATT, John, 216\n HYDE, Charles, 230\n\n INGALLS, Jeremiah, 121, 274, 278, 507\n IRVING, Washington, 322\n ISAAC, Heinrich, 91, 112\n\n JACKSON, Andrew, 206\n JACKSON, Deborah, 206\n JEROME OF PRAGUE, 472\n JOHN OF DAMASCUS, 53, 54, 57\n JOHNSON, Albert, 222\n JOHNSON, Mrs. James G., 452\n JONES, H.R., 392\n JONES, John, 393\n JONES, Nancy, 389, 390\n JONES, Thomas, 401\n JUDAH, Daniel Ben, 20\n JUDSON, Sarah B., 246\n JULIAN, John, 204\n\n KEBLE, John, 159, 252, 482\n KEENE, Robert, 204\n KELLER, Matthias, 343, 345, 347\n KELLY, Thomas, 173, 174\n KEMPIS, Thomas a, 67\n KEN, Bp., 13, 14\n KEY, Francis Scott, 49, 333\n KEY, John R., 49\n KING, Jacob, 71\n KING ROBERT II, 11, 57, 58, 60\n KINGSLEY, George, 34, 102, 158,\n 281, 318, 519\n KIPLING, Rudyard, 349-351\n KOZELUCK, ----, 483\n KRISHNA PAL, 491\n\n LAMB, Frank M., 253, 254\n LATTIMORE, W.O., 434\n LEE, Mary Augusta, 455, 456\n LEE, Gen. Robert E., 206\n LELAND, John, 224, 276, 482\n LINCOLN, Abraham, 239, 256\n LINDSAY, Miss, 259\n LOGAN, John, 279\n LONGFELLOW, Henry W., 248, 249\n LONGFELLOW, Samuel, ix\n LORIMER, George, 252\n LOUIS, (King), 5, 191\n LOWRY, J.C., 118\n LOWRY, Robert, 39, 148, 153,\n 406, 419, 446, 448\n LOYOLA, Ignatius, 74\n LUCAS, James, 495\n LUDWIG, Duke, 121\n LUKE, Jemima T., 305, 306\n LULLI, ----, 338\n LUMMIS, Franklin H., 342\n LUTHER, Martin, xvi, 8, 69-71, 388\n LYON, Meyer, 20\n LYTE, Henry Francis, 217, 221\n\n MACGILL, Hamilton M., 296\n MACKAY, Charles, 135\n MACKAY, Margaret, 499\n MACKAY, William Paton, 416\n MADAN, Martin, 29, 30, 41, 463, 505\n MAFFIT, John, 274\n MAIN, Hubert P., vi, vii, 115, 134,\n 228, 240, 299, 307,\n 369, 415, 430, 470, 537\n MALAN, Caesar, xvi, 214, 384, 436\n MARCO, (?), Portugalis, 205, 206\n MAROT, Clement, xvi\n MARSH, ----, 363\n MARVIN, Bp., 151\n MARY, (Queen), 12, 18\n MARY, (Princess), 12, 18\n MARY, (Virgin), 356, 358\n MARY STUART, (Queen), 77\n MASON, Francis, 175\n MASON, Lowell, 36, 91, 93, 105,\n 106, 111, 118, 131, 133, 146,\n 170, 173, 179, 196, 302, 337,\n 339, 348, 363, 581, 526\n MASTERS, Mary, 303\n MAURICE, ----, 381\n MAXIM, Abraham, 282, 283, 488\n MAYO, Mrs. Herbert, 310\n MAZZINGHI, Joseph, 202, 203\n McGRANAHAN, James, 308, 444, 452\n McKEEVER, F.G., vii\n McKINLEY, William, 151, 251\n McMULLEN, Mr. and Mrs., 222\n MEEK, William T., vii\n MEDLEY, Samuel, 136, 276\n MELANCTHON, Philip, 69\n MENDELSSOHN, Felix, 463, 482, 491\n MERRIAM, Edmund F., vii\n MERRILL, Abraham, D., 269\n MIDLANE, Albert, 445\n MILLER, James, 367\n MILMAN, Henry Hart, 278\n MILLS, Elizabeth, 307\n MILTON, John, 461, 462\n MOHAMMED, 5\n MONK, William H., 160, 219, 245\n MONTGOMERY, James, 21, 144, 145,\n 176, 177, 285, 353,\n 480, 487, 499, 521\n MOODY, Dwight L., 308, 310, 421, 426, 431\n MOORE, (More), Joshua, 267, 269\n MOORE, Thomas, 112, 219, 243, 325-328, 333\n MORGAN, David, 392\n MORNINGTON, Garret,\n Colley Wellesley, Earl of 523\n MORRIS, Robert, 260\n MORSE, Charles H., 482\n MOTE, Edward, 216\n MOZART, Johan Wolfgang, 222, 244, 327\n MUHLENBERG, Henry M., 158, 498\n MUHLENBERG, W.A., 157, 158\n MURILLO, Bartolomeo, 162\n\n NAeGELI, Johan G., 161, 162\n NAPOLEON, 97, 389\n NARES, James, 95\n NEALE, John M., 6, 7, 55, 57, 354, 512\n NERO, (Emperor), 322\n NEWELL, Harriet, 175\n NEWMAN, John Henry, 223, 224, 524\n NEWTON, John, 130, 203, 204, 286,\n 386, 403, 493\n NICHOLSON, Ludovic, 201\n NOVELLO, Vincent, 73, 74\n NUTTER, Dr., 180\n\n OAKELEY, Frederick, 459\n OAKELEY, Sir. Herbert S., 252\n OAKEY, Emily, 434, 435\n OCCUM, Samson, 267-269, 279\n O'KANE, Tullius C., 437\n OLDCASTLE, John, 379\n OLIVER, Henry K., 104, 105\n OLIVERS, Thomas, 19, 20, 22, 504\n OSBORNE, John, 146\n\n PAINE, John K., 462\n PAINE, Robert T., 335\n PALESTRINA, xiv-xvi\n PALMER, Horatio R., 261, 311, 417, 450\n PALMER, Ray, 59\n PARKER, Theodore, ix\n PARRY; Joseph, 395, 398\n PATRICK, St., 328\n PAYNE John Howard, 135\n PELOUBET, F.N., 188\n PENRY, ----, 381\n PERRONET, Edward, 25, 27, 31, 59\n PHELPS, A.S., vii\n PHELPS, S.D., 147\n PHELPS, W.L., vii\n PHILIP, \"King\", 265\n PHILLIPS, Philip, 149, 150, 239,\n 256, 267, 309, 333,\n 421, 531, 532, 534\n PHIPPS, George, 188, 189\n PIERPONT, John, 335, 336\n PINSUTI, 415\n PLEYEL, Ignace, 126, 208\n PLINY, 293\n POPE, Alexander, 238, 326, 515, 516\n POWELL, John, 381\n PRESBRY, Otis F., 451, 452\n PRICE, Dr., 41\n PRICE, E.M., 395\n PRITCHARD, Rhys M., 379, 396\n PROCH, Heinrich, 357\n PURCELL, Henry, 338\n\n RALEIGH, Sir Walter, 76\n RANKIN, James, 362\n RANKIN, Jeremiah E., 496\n RAVENSCROFT, Thomas, 338\n READ, Daniel, 407, 466\n READING, John, 205\n REDHEAD, Richard, 50\n REDNER, Louis H., 469\n REES, William, 402\n REINAGLE, Alexander R., 87\n REXFORD, Eben E., 439, 440\n RHYE, Morgan, 404\n RICHARDSON, John, 76\n RIDLEY, Bp., 4\n RILEY, Mary Louise, 317\n RIMBAULT, Edward F., 282\n RINGWALDT, Bartholomew, 71, 73\n RIPPON, John, 27, 204, 281\n RITTER, Peter, 160\n ROBERT II, (King), 57, 58, 60\n ROBERTS, Evan, 377, 393, 394\n ROBERTS, W.M., 404\n ROBINSON, Charles, 171, 179\n ROBINSON, Robert, 283, 284\n ROMAINE, William, 31\n ROOSEVELT, Theodore, 151\n ROOT, George F., 155, 156,254,\n 315, 317, 439, 444\n ROUSSEAU, J.J., 112, 113\n ROWE, Elizabeth, 45\n ROWLANDS, Daniel, 381, 387\n RUTHERFORD, Samuel, 78, 79, 81\n\n SALMON, Thomas, 432\n SANDERSON, Mrs., 335\n SANKEY, Ira D., 184, 258, 308-311,\n 374, 375, 417, 421-423,\n 434, 438, 447, 537\n SCHMOLKE, Benjamin, 499\n SCHUMANN, Robert, 87\n SCOTT, Thomas, 226, 411\n SCOTT, Sir Walter, 240\n SCRIVEN, Joseph, 425\n SEAGRAVE, Robert, 94\n SEARS, Edmund H., 466\n SENECA, 320, 322\n SERVOSS, Mary Elizabeth, 442, 443\n SEWARD, William H., 257\n SHEPHERD, Thomas, 411\n SHERIDAN, Mrs. Richard Brinsley, 244\n SHIPLEY, Dean, 178\n SHIRLEY, Sir Walter, 127, 128, 202\n SIMAO, Portugalis, 206\n SIMPSON, Robert, 298\n SINGER, Elizabeth, 45\n SMART, Henry, 4, 5, 10, 137, 465, 525\n SMITH, Mrs. Albert, 317\n SMITH, Alexander, 368\n SMITH, Goldwin, x\n SMITH, Isaac, 324\n SMITH, John Stafford, 335\n SMITH, Samuel Francis, 180-182, 337, 339\n SPAFFORD, Horatio G., 440, 441\n SPOHR, L., 126, 207, 227, 228, 244, 488\n STAINER, John, 65, 66, 352, 474\n STANLEY, (Dean), Arthur P., 65, 66, 148\n STEAD, William, 150, 151\n STEBBINS, George C., 254, 308, 375,\n 415, 528\n STEELE, Anna, 197\n STEFFE, John W., 342\n ST. FULBERT, 59-61\n STENNETT, Joseph, 23, 488\n STENNETT, Samuel, 23, 24\n STEPHENS, ----, 395\n STEPHEN, (St.), the Sabaite, 57\n STERNHOLD, Thomas, 15, 16\n STEVENSON, ----, 317\n STOKES, Walter, 84\n STORES, Richard S., 35, 474\n STORRS, Mrs. R.S., 474\n STOWE, Harriet Beecher, 481\n STOWELL, Hugh, 222, 223\n STUART, Charles M., 34\n SUMNER, Janaziah, 330\n SWAIN, Joseph, 28, 281\n SWAN, Jabez, 286\n SWAN, Timothy, 194, 195, 327, 506\n\n TADOLINI, Giovanni, 357\n TAIT, Abp., 252\n TALLIS, Thomas, xv, 17, 18\n TANSUR, William, 282, 283\n TARBUTTON, W.A., 528\n TATE, Nahum, 12, 14, 193, 283\n TAYLOR, Benjamin F., 533\n TAYLOR, James, 61\n TAYLOR, Thomas R., 300, 301\n TAYLOR, V.C., 52, 244\n TENNYSON, Alfred, 259, 538-540\n TERSTEEGEN, Gerhard, 102\n TESCHNER, Melchior, 8\n THEODULPH, Bp., 5, 6, 7\n THOMAS a KEMPIS, 67\n THOMAS DI CELANO, 62, 63\n THRING, Godfrey, 371\n THRUPP, Dorothy A., 310\n TOMER, William G., 497\n TOPLADY, A.M., 137, 138, 517, 18\n TOURJEE, Eben, 149, 150, 235\n TOURJEE, Lizzie S., 235\n TOURS, Berthold, 415\n TRAJAN, (Emperor), 293\n TYLER, Mrs. Fanny, 28\n\n UFFORD, E.S., 374, 376, 377\n UPHAM, Thomas, 192\n URHAN, Christian, 82\n\n VAIL, Silas J., 8, 234, 235\n VAN ALSTYNE, Mrs., 156, 184, 312, 425, 438\n VERNON, (Admiral), 339\n VICTORIA, (Queen), 139, 248, 252\n VOKES, Mrs., 171, 173\n VOLTAIRE, 43\n VON GLUCK, 490\n VON WEBER, C.M., 121, 338, 490, 500\n\n WADE, ----, 102\n WALFORD, William W., 432\n WALTHER, Johan, xvi\n WARNER, Anna, 418\n WASHBURN, Henry S., 245, 247\n WATERS, Horace, 303\n WATKIN, Jack E., 390\n WATSON, Bp., 151\n WATSON, Richard, 120\n WATTS, Isaac, 14, 29, 33, 35, 37,\n 40, 41-45, 47, 60, 105, 107-109,\n 133, 134, 165, 166, 167,\n 243, 396, 403, 463, 506, 513\n WAYLAND, Francis, 42\n WEBB, George J., 182, 444\n WEBBE, Samuel, 116, 505\n WEBSTER, Joseph P., 535-537\n WELLS, G.C., 111\n WENTWORTH, (Gov.), 269\n WESLEY, Charles, 14, 26, 45, 47, 94,\n 111, 118, 204, 274, 359-361, 388,\n 396, 403, 420, 463, 474, 493, 520\n WESLEY, John, 14, 209, 211, 273, 520\n WESLEY, Samuel, 45, 178\n WESLEY, Samuel Sebastian, 45, 177, 178,\n 304, 485\n WHEELOCK, Eleazer, 267, 269\n WHITE, Henry Kirke, 297, 364-366\n WHITEFIELD, George, 19, 31, 88,\n 124, 132, 201\n WHITING, William, 369, 370\n WHITTIER, John G., 250, 251\n WHITTLE, D.W., 444\n WILLIAM, (King), 12, 13\n WILLIAMS, Aaron, 130, 134\n WILLIAMS, David, 405\n WILLIAMS, Helen M., 125, 126, 206\n WILLIAMS, Peter, 199, 201, 387, 389\n WILLIAMS, Thomas, 393, 401, 403\n WILLIAMS, William, 166-168, 199, 381-386,\n 388, 396, 399, 405\n WILLIS, Richard Storrs, 415, 467\n WILLIS, Nathaniel, 467\n WILLIS, N.P., 467\n WILSON, Hugh, 353\n WINKS, W.E., 406\n WINKWORTH, Catherine, 84\n WOODBRIDGE, William C., 338, 339\n WOODBURY, Isaac B., 111, 183, 244,\n 319, 407\n WOODMAN, J.C., 410, 415\n WOOD, Sir Evelyn, 368\n WROTH, William, 379\n WYETH, John, 283, 284\n\n XAVIER, Francis, 74\n\n YOUNG, Andrew, 304\n\n ZERRAHN, Carl, 444\n ZEUNER, Heinrich, 172, 241\n ZINZENDORF, (Count), 91, 92\n ZUNDEL, John, 363, 485\n\n\n\n\n INDEX OF TUNES.\n\n ABENDS, 252\n ABERYSTWYTH, 395\n ABIDE WITH ME, 219\n AELRED, 372\n AIN, 38, 39\n ALMOST PERSUADED, 454\n ALSACE, 193\n ALL SAINTS, NEW, 513\n AMALAND, 465\n AMERICA, 336-339\n AMES, 34\n AMSTERDAM, 95, 96\n ANACREON IN HEAVEN, 334\n ANNAPOLIS, 507, 515\n ANTHEM FOR EASTER, 474\n ANTIOCH, 166, 464\n ANTIPHONALS, xiii\n ANVERN, 520\n ARABIA, 388\n ARIEL, 137\n ARLINGTON, 107, 118, 515\n ATHENS, 227, 307\n AUDIENTES, 303\n AULD LANG SYNE, 515\n AURELIA, 177\n AUTUMN, (Sardius), 222\n AZMON, 47, 48\n\n BABEL, 388\n BALERMA, 297, 298\n BATTLE HYMN ETC., 341-343\n BELMONT, 116\n BENEVENTO, 494\n BERLIN, 491\n BETHANY, 153, 465\n BEYOND THE SMILING AND THE WEEPING, 528\n BIRMINGHAM, 132\n BONNY DOON, 367\n BOSWORTH, 105\n BOWER OF PRAYER, THE, 147\n BOWRING, 170\n BOYLSTON, 133, 169, 523\n BRADEN, 276\n BRATTLE STREET, 126, 207\n BREST, 505\n BRIGHT CANAAN, 273, 274\n BRIGHTON, 245\n BROKEN PINION, THE, 254\n BROOKLYN, 485\n BROWN, 232\n BRUCE'S ADDRESS, 335, 336\n BRYMGFRYD, 388\n BUCKFIELD, 283\n BURIAL OF MRS. JUDSON, 247\n\n CALM ON THE LISTENING EAR, (EPIPHANY), 468\n CANAAN, 514\n CANONS, 11\n CAPEL Y DDOL, 405\n CAROL, 467\n CATHARINE, 404\n CHESTER, 331, 332\n CHINA, 194\n CHRISTMAS, 414, 466\n CLWYD, 393\n COLEBROOK, 137\n COLUMBIA, 332\n COME, 453\n COME, MY BRETHREN, 280\n COME, YE DISCONSOLATE, 221\n COME, YE FAITHFUL, 55\n CONSOLATION, 482\n CONVENTION HYMN, 187\n CORONATION, 27, 59\n CORSICA, 490\n COUNTERPOINT, xv\n CREATION, 40\n CRIMEA, 366\n CROSSING THE BAR, 539\n CRUCIFIXION, 514\n CWYFAN, 388\n CWYNFAN PRYDIAN, 402\n\n DARBY, 403\n DEAD MARCH IN \"SAUL\", 498\n DEDHAM, 48, 130\n DENMARK, 41\n DENNIS, 133, 161\n DEVONSHIRE, 105\n DEVOTION, 514\n DIES IRAE, 65\n DORT, 187, 348, 481\n DUNBAR, 531\n DUNDEE, 194\n DUKE STREET, 37, 166\n\n EASTER ANTHEM, 474\n EBENEZER, 406\n EDEN OF LOVE, 272, 273\n EDINA, 252\n EDOM, 401\n EIN FESTE BURG, 71\n EIRINWG, 403\n ELLACOMBE, 177\n ELLIOTT, 215\n ELVY, 388\n EMMONS, 125\n EPIPHANY (CALM ON THE LISTENING), 468\n ERNAN, 407\n ETERNITY, 449\n EUCHARIST, 111\n EVAN, 227\n EVENING SONG TO THE VIRGIN, 359\n EXCELSIUS, 96\n\n FAIR HARVARD, 307\n FALMOUTH, 514\n FEDERAL STREET, 104, 105\n FITZWILLIAM, 4\n FOREVER WITH THE LORD, 498\n FREDERICK, 158, 498\n FROM GREENLAND'S ICY, 179\n\n GANGES, 119, 269, 270\n GARDEN HYMN, THE, 277, 278\n GENEVA, 115\n GOLDEN HILL, 108, 274\n GOD BE WITH YOU, 497\n GOOD MORNING IN GLORY, 164\n GOTT IST LICHT, 463\n GREENVILLE, 112, 121\n GRIGGS, 102\n\n HABAKKUK, 212\n HAIL COLUMBIA, 331\n HALLELUJAH! 'TIS DONE! 422\n HALLOWELL, 283\n HAMBURG, 111\n HANOVER, 204\n HAPPY DAY, 282\n HAPPY LAND, 304\n HAREWOOD, 485\n HARMONY, 514\n HARMONY GROVE, 105\n HARVEST HOME, 479\n HAYDN, 31\n HEBER, 102, 318\n HE LEADETH ME, 236\n HELMSLEY, 505\n HENDON, 486\n HE WILL HIDE ME, 444\n HOLD THE FORT, 424, 432\n HOLLEY, 407, 483, 484\n HOLY CROSS, 102\n HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, 51\n HOLY TRINITY, 102\n HOME OF THE SOUL, THE, 532, 533\n HOME, SWEET HOME, 135\n HORBURY, 152\n HOSANNA, 512\n HUDSON, 105\n HURSLEY, 160, 493\n HYFRYDOL, 375\n\n I'M GLAD I'M IN THIS ARMY, 299\n IMMANUEL'S BANNER, 188\n INDEPENDENCE, 332\n INNSBRUCK, 91\n IT IS WELL, 440\n (See Index of Hymns)\n\n JAZER, 118\n JEWETT, 500\n JOYFULLY, JOYFULLY, 289, 290\n (See Index of Hymns)\n\n KEBLE, 52\n KELLER'S AMERICAN HYMN, 433-445\n KENT, 105\n KENTUCKY, 274\n\n LABAN, 143\n LAMENT OVER BOSTON, 332\n LAND AHEAD, 369\n LANESBORO, 36, 503\n LA SPEZIA, 61\n LENOX, 395, 476\n LEONI, 20\n LET THE LOWER LIGHTS, 434\n LISBON, 466\n LISCHER, 488\n LLANIETYN, 404\n LOUVAN, 52, 244\n LOVING-KINDNESS, 277\n LOWELL, 407\n LUCAS, 494\n LUTHER'S HYMN, 73\n LUX BENIGNA, 224\n\n MAGDALEN, 351\n MAGNIFICAT, xi, xii, 10\n MAITLAND, 412\n MAJESTY, 16\n MALVERN, 93\n MANOAH, 116\n MARSEILLAISE, 174, 329, 352\n MASSACHUSETTS, 514\n MATTHIAS, 245\n MEAR, 130\n MELANCTHON, 496\n MELITA, 370\n MILTON, 243\n MENDELSSOHN, 463\n MERIBAH, 90, 91, 119, 395\n MERTON, 105, 519\n MESSIAH, 281\n MIDNIGHT MASS, 460\n MIGDOL, 173\n MILLENNIAL DAWN, 177, 182, 477\n MISSIONARY CHANT, 172, 291\n MONSON, 232\n MONTGOMERY, 35\n MORECAMBE, 491\n MORLAIX, 372\n MORNING, 105\n MORNING GLORY, 504\n MORNINGTON, 523\n MOZART, 244\n MT. AUBURN, 519\n MT. VERNON, 498\n MY AIN COUNTREE, 456\n MY BROTHER I WISH YOU WELL, 91\n MY JESUS, I LOVE THEE, 162, 163\n\n NANCY JIG, 385\n NAOMI, 198\n NEALE, 355\n NEARER HOME, 407, 531\n NESTA, 404\n NETTLETON, 112, 283, 284\n NEW DURHAM, 283\n NEW JERUSALEM, 506, 507\n NICAEA, 51\n NORTHFIELD, 506-508\n NORWICH, 207, 462\n NOT HALF HAS EVER BEEN TOLD, 451\n NOTTINGHAM, 16\n NO WAR NOR BATTLE SOUND, 461\n\n OAK, 302\n ODE ON SCIENCE, 330\n O DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED, 299\n OLD HUNDRED, xvi, 15, 41, 166, 339\n OLMUTZ, 518\n OLD SHIP OF ZION, 290\n ONE MORE DAY'S WORK, ETC., 418\n ONLY REMEMBERED, 309\n ONWARD, CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS, 56, 186\n O, PERFECT LOVE, 504\n ORTONVILLE, 25\n OVER THERE, 436\n\n PALESTINE, 202\n PALM BRANCHES, 470\n PARADISE, 526\n PART-SONG, xv\n PASCHALE GAUDIUM, 474\n PENTECOST, 513\n PETERBOROUGH, 48\n PILGRIM, 25\n PISGAH, 118\n PLAIN-SONG, xii, 10\n PLEYEL'S HYMN, 280, 411\n POLYPHONIC, xv\n PORTLAND, 283, 488\n PORTUGUESE HYMN, 205, 206, 460\n PRECIOUS JEWELS, 315, 316\n PRESIDENT'S MARCH, 331\n\n RANZ DE VACHES, 352\n RATHBUN, 99, 249\n RAVENDALE, 84\n RAYNHAM, 514\n REFUGE, 363\n REJOICE AND BE GLAD, 415\n RESCUE THE PERISHING, 425\n REST, 499, 513\n RESTORATION, 514\n RETREAT, 223\n RETROSPECT, 332\n REVIVE THY WORK, 445\n RHINE, 125\n RIVAULX, 104\n ROLLAND, 106, 493\n ROCKINGHAM, 131\n ROTTERDAM, 55\n RUSSIA, 466\n RUTHERFORD, 82\n\n SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS, 541\n SALEM, 123\n SALISBURY PLAIN, 105\n SAMSON, 166\n SARDIUS, (AUTUMN), 201\n SAVANNAH, 238\n SAVIOUR, LIKE A SHEPHERD, 310, 311\n SAVIOUR, PILOT ME, 374\n SCALE, THE, xiii, xiv\n SCATTER SEEDS OF KINDNESS, 318\n SCHUMANN, 87\n SCOTS WHA HAE, 336\n SEQUENCES, (FOOT NOTE [7]), 8\n SHAWMUT, 407\n SHERBURNE, 466\n SICILY, 129, 283\n SILOAM, 244, 318, 319\n SILVER STREET, 324\n SIMPSON, 126\n SOMETHING FOR JESUS, 148\n SONGS OF THE BEAUTIFUL, 483\n SONNET, 287\n SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL, 327\n SPEED AWAY, 184\n SPOHR, 244\n STAFFORD, 466\n STAR-SPANGLED BANNER, THE, 49, 333-335\n STATE STREET, 410, 515\n ST. AMBROSE, 296\n ST. ANSELM, (we plow the fields), 478\n ST. ATHANASIUS, 59\n ST. BERNARD, 75\n ST. BOTOLPH, 244\n ST. CHAD, 50\n ST. EDMUND, 152\n ST. GARMON, 395\n ST. KEVIN, 307\n ST. LOUIS, 469\n ST. MAGNUS, 16\n ST. PETERSBURG, 213\n ST. PHILIP, 30\n ST. THOMAS, 38, 134, 523\n STEPHENS, 282\n STOWE, 482\n SUSSEX, 500\n SWEET BY AND BY, 534-537\n SWEET GALILEE, 261, 319\n SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER, 432\n SWITZER'S SONG OF HOME, 352\n\n TALLIS' EVENING HYMN, xvi, 16,17\n TE DEUM, 1-4\n TELEMANN'S CHANT, 474\n THACHER, 109\n THE BOWER OF PRAYER, 147\n THE BROKEN PINION, 254\n THE CHARIOT, 279\n THE DYING CHRISTIAN, 516, 517\n THE EDEN OF LOVE, 272, 273\n THE GARDEN HYMN, 277, 278\n THE HARP THAT ONCE, 328\n THE HEBREW CHILDREN, 271\n THE HOME OF THE SOUL, 532, 533\n THE LAND OF THE BLEST, 308\n THE MORNING LIGHT IS BREAKING, 177,\n 182, 477\n THE NINETY AND NINE, 422\n THE OLD, OLD STORY, 429\n THE PRODIGAL CHILD, 430\n THE SOLID ROCK, 317\n THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER, 333\n THERE IS A GREEN HILL, 414\n THROW OUT THE LIFE-LINE, 374\n THYDIAN, 388\n TO THE WORK, 438, 480\n TOPLADY, 59, 142\n TRENCYNON, 395\n TRIUMPH BY AND BY, 450\n TRURO, 241, 407\n TURNER, 282\n\n UXBRIDGE, 93\n\n VOX ANGELICA, 525\n VOX DILECTI, 238\n VOX JESU, 227\n\n WAITING AND WATCHING, 443\n WALNUT GROVE, 105\n WARD, 196, 493\n WARE, 34\n WATCHMAN, 170\n WEBB, 177, 182\n WEIMAR, 9\n WELLS, 409\n WELLESLEY, 235\n WELTON, 486\n WE SHALL MEET, 529\n WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE 425\n WHAT SHALL THE HARVEST BE, 435, 436\n WHEN JESUS COMES, 437\n WHEN PEACE LIKE A, 477\n WHEN SHALL WE ALL MEET, 266\n WHEN THE SWALLOWS HOMEWARD FLY, 364\n WHERE ARE THE REAPERS, 429\n WHERE IS MY WANDERING BOY, 446\n WHILE THE DAYS ARE GOING, 312\n WHITMAN, 146, 364\n WILMOT, 121, 490\n WINDHAM, 407, 466\n WINDSOR, 482\n WOODSTOCK, 232\n WOODWORTH, 215\n\n Y DELYN AUR, 405\n YORK, 462\n YOUR MISSION, 259\n\n ZEPHYR, 513\n ZION, (T. Hastings), 168, 174\n ZION, (A. Hall), 514\n\n\n\n\n INDEX OF HYMNS.\n\n A CHARGE TO KEEP I HAVE, 274\n ABIDE WITH ME, FAST FALLS, 217\n ADAMS AND LIBERTY, 335\n ADESTE, FIDELES, 458\n ALAS, WHAT HOURLY DANGERS RISE, 198\n ALL GLORY, LAUD AND HONOR, 5\n ALL HAIL THE POWER OF JESUS' NAME, 25-27\n ALL PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL LORD, 8\n ALMOST PERSUADED, 454\n ALONG THE BANKS WHERE BABEL'S CURRENT, 242, 243\n A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD, 69\n AND IS THIS LIFE PROLONGED TO YOU, 43\n AND WILL THE JUDGE DESCEND, 410\n ANGEL OF PEACE, THOU HAS WAITED, 344\n ANGELS ROLL THE ROCK AWAY, 411\n ANOTHER SIX DAYS' WORK IS DONE 23, 488\n A POOR WAYFARING MAN OF GRIEF, 285\n ARISE, MY SOUL, ARISE, 395\n ART THOU WEARY, ART THOU LANGUID, 57\n AS DOWN IN THE SUNLESS RETREATS, 243\n ASLEEP IN JESUS, BLESSED SLEEP, 499\n AT ANCHOR LAID REMOTE FROM HOME, 138\n AVE, MARIS STELLA, 356\n AVE, SANCTISSIMA, 357\n AWAKE AND SING THE SONG, 29\n AWAKE MY SOUL, STRETCH EVERY NERVE, 413\n AWAKE, MY SOUL, TO JOYFUL LAYS, 276, 277\n AWAKED BY SINAI'S AWFUL SOUND, 267\n\n BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC, 340, 343\n BEFORE JEHOVAH'S AWFUL THRONE, 40, 41\n BEGONE UNBELIEF, MY SAVIOUR IS NEAR, 203\n BEHOLD THE GLORIES OF THE LAMB, 42\n BEHOLD, THE STONE IS ROLLED AWAY, 451\n BE THOU EXALTED, O MY GOD, 40\n BE THOU, O GOD, EXALTED HIGH, 111\n BEYOND THE SMILING AND THE WEEPING, 527\n BLEST BE THE TIE THAT BINDS, 132\n BLOW YE THE TRUMPET, BLOW, 395\n BREAD OF HEAVEN, ON THEE WE FEED, 489\n BRETHREN, WHILE WE SOJOURN HERE, 280\n BRIGHTLY BEAMS THE FATHER'S MERCY, 431\n BUILD THEE MORE STATELY MANSIONS, 249\n BY COOL SILOAM'S SHADY RILL, 318\n BY THE RUDE BRIDGE THAT ARCHED THE FLOOD, 339\n CALVARY'S BLOOD THE WEAK EXALTETH, 385\n CHILD OF SIN AND SORROW, 223\n CHRISTIANS, IF YOUR HEARTS ARE WARM, 274, 275\n CHRIST IS OUR CORNER STONE, 485\n CHRIST IS RISEN! CHRIST IS RISEN! 473\n CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TODAY, 474\n COME HITHER, ALL YE WEARY SOULS, 409\n COME HITHER, YE FAITHFUL, 459\n COME, HOLY GHOST, IN LOVE, 59\n COME, HOLY SPIRIT, HEAVENLY DOVE, 282\n COME HOME, COME HOME, 430\n COME, LET US ANEW, 494\n COME, MY BRETHREN, LET US TRY, 279\n COME, SINNER, COME, 417\n COME, THOU FOUNT OF EVERY BLESSING, 283, 284\n COME, THOU HOLY SPIRIT, COME, 58\n COME TO JESUS JUST NOW, 291\n COME UNTO ME WHEN SHADOWS, 208, 209\n COME, WE THAT LOVE THE LORD, 37, 38\n COME, YE DISCONSOLATE, 219, 220, 326\n COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAIN, 54\n COME, YE SINNERS, POOR AND NEEDY, 119\n COMMIT THOU ALL THY GRIEFS, 84-85\n CROWN HIS HEAD WITH ENDLESS BLESSING, 30\n\n DAUGHTER OF ZION, FROM THE DUST, 486, 489\n DAY OF WRATH: THAT DAY OF BURNING, 62-64\n DEAR JESUS, EVER AT MY SIDE, 302\n DEAR REFUGE OF MY WEARY SOUL, 196\n DID CHRIST O'ER SINNERS WEEP, 160, 161\n DIE FELDER WIR PFLUeGEN, 478\n DIES IRAE, DIES ILLA, 62-64\n\n EARLY, MY GOD, WITHOUT DELAY, 35\n EARLY TO BEAR THE YOKE EXCELS, 401\n EIN FESTE BURG IST UNSER GOTT, 69\n ETERNAL FATHER, STRONG TO SAVE, 369\n\n FADING AWAY LIKE THE STARS, 309\n FATHER, WHATEVER OF EARTHLY BLISS, 196\n FEAR NOT, O LITTLE FLOCK, THE FOE, 82\n FIERCE RAGED THE TEMPEST, 372\n FIERCE WAS THE WILD BILLOW, 354\n FOREVER WITH THE LORD, 521\n FROM EVERY STORMY WIND, 222\n FROM GREENLAND'S ICY MOUNTAINS, 178, 179\n FROM WHENCE DOTH THIS UNION ARISE, 263\n FULLY PERSUADED, 451\n\n GAUDE, PLAUDE, MAGDALENA, 472\n GIVE ME MY SCALLOP-SHELL OF QUIET, 76\n GIVE TO THE WINDS THY FEARS, 88\n GLORIA, xii\n GLORY TO THEE, MY GOD, THIS NIGHT, xvi, 16\n GOD BE WITH YOU TILL WE MEET, 496\n GOD BLESS OUR NATIVE LAND, 347, 348\n GOD CALLING YET? 102, 103\n GOD IS THE REFUGE OF HIS SAINTS, 196\n GOD OF OUR FATHERS, KNOWN OF OLD, 349, 350\n GOD'S FURNACE DOTH IN ZION STAND, 89\n GREAT AUTHOR OF SALVATION, 398\n GREAT GOD, WE SING THAT MIGHTY HAND, 496\n GREAT GOD, WHAT DO I SEE AND HEAR! 71\n GUIDE ME, O THOU GREAT JEHOVAH, 198, 399\n\n HAIL COLUMBIA, HAPPY LAND, 331\n HAIL TO THE LORD'S ANOINTED, 175\n HALLELUJAH! 'TIS DONE! 422\n HARK! HARK, MY SOUL! 524\n HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SING, 463\n HARK! WHAT MEAN THOSE HOLY VOICES, 464\n HASTEN, LORD, THE GLORIOUS TIME, 168\n HASTEN, SINNER, TO BE WISE, 410\n HE DIES! THE FRIEND OF SINNERS, 473\n HE LEADETH ME, 235, 236\n HERE AT THY TABLE, LORD, WE MEET, 24\n HERE BEHOLD THE TENT OF MEETING, 396\n HERE, O MY GOD, I SEE THEE, 490\n HE ROSE! O MORN OF WONDER! 477\n HIGH THE ANGEL CHOIRS ARE RAISING, 68\n HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, LORD GOD, 50, 51\n HO, MY COMRADES, SEE THE SIGNAL, 424\n HORA NOVISSIMA, 510\n HOW FIRM A FOUNDATION, 204, 206\n HOW HAPPY IS THE CHILD WHO HEARS, 297\n HOW HAPPY IS THE PILGRIM'S LOT, 207\n HOW SWEETLY FLOWED THE GOSPEL SOUND, 98\n HOW SWEET, HOW HEAVENLY IS THE SIGHT, 281\n HOW SWEET THE COVENANT TO REMEMBER, 396\n HOW, UNAPPROACHED! SHALL MIND OF MAN, 56\n HOW VAIN ARE ALL THINGS HERE BELOW, 45\n HOW VAST A TREASURE WE POSSESS, 43\n\n I AM FAR FRAE MY HAME, 445\n I AM SO GLAD THAT OUR FATHER, 319\n I CANNOT ALWAYS TRACE THE WAY, 502\n IF I WERE A VOICE, 181\n IF THOU WOULDST END THE WORLD, 389\n IF YOU CANNOT ON THE OCEAN, 256-258\n I GAVE MY LIFE FOR THEE, 154\n I HAVE A FATHER, 305\n I HAVE READ OF A BEAUTIFUL CITY, 451\n I HEAR THE SAVIOUR SAY, 426\n I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS SAY, 225-227\n I'LL CAST MY HEAVY BURDEN DOWN, 384\n I LOVE THY KINGDOM, LORD, 133\n I LOVE TO STEAL AWHILE AWAY, 229, 231\n I LOVE TO TELL THE STORY, 429\n I'M A PILGRIM, 278, 288\n I'M BUT A STRANGER HERE, 300, 301\n I'M GOING HOME, 291\n I'M NOT ASHAMED, 107\n IN DE DARK WOOD, 264\n IN EDEN, O THE MEMORY!, 383\n I NEED THEE EVERY HOUR, 153\n IN SOME WAY OR OTHER, 148, 149\n IN THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY, 473\n IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I GLORY, 97\n IN THE DEEP AND MIGHTY WATERS, 406\n IN THE WAVES AND MIGHTY WATERS, 405\n I OPEN MY EYES TO THIS VISION, 404\n IS THIS THE KIND RETURN? 108\n IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR, 466\n I THINK WHEN I READ THAT SWEET, 305\n IT MAY NOT BE OUR LOT TO YIELD, 250\n IT WAS THE WINTER WILD, 460\n I WALKED IN THE WOODLAND MEADOWS, 251, 252\n I WILL SING YOU A SONG OF THAT, 532\n\n JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN, 509, 511\n JESU, DULCIS MEMORIA, 100\n JESUS' BLOOD CAN RAISE THE FEEBLE, 385\n JESUS, I LOVE THY CHARMING NAME, 116\n JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN, 221\n JESUS, KEEP ME NEAR THE CROSS, 156, 157\n JESUS, LOVER OF MY SOUL, 359, 364\n JESUS MY ALL TO HEAVEN IS GONE, 126\n JESUS, SAVIOUR, PILOT ME, 373\n JESUS SHALL REIGN WHERE'ER THE SUN, 165\n JESUS, THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE, 100\n JESUS THE WATER OF LIFE WILL GIVE, 312\n JESUS, THY BLOOD AND RIGHTEOUSNESS, 91\n JOHN WESLEY'S HYMN, 209\n JOYFULLY, JOYFULLY ONWARD, 288-290\n JOY TO THE WORLD! THE LORD IS COME, 166, 463\n\n KEEP ME VERY NEAR TO JESUS, 400\n KELLER'S AMERICAN HYMN, 343, 345\n\n LAND AHEAD! THE FRUITS ARE WAVING, 367\n LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT, 223\n LET PARTY NAMES NO MORE, 169\n LET TYRANTS SHAKE THEIR IRON ROD, 331\n LET US GATHER UP THE SUNBEAMS, 317\n LET US SING OF THE SHEAVES, 479\n LIFE IS THE TIME TO SERVE THE LORD, 409\n LITTLE TRAVELLERS ZIONWARD, 299\n LO! A SAVIOUR FOR THE FALLEN, 404\n LO! HE COMES, WITH CLOUDS DESCENDING, 504\n LO! ON A NARROW NECK OF LAND, 118\n LO! WHAT A GLORIOUS SIGHT APPEARS, 505\n LORD, HOW MYSTERIOUS ARE THY WAYS, 198\n LORD OF ALL BEING, THRONED AFAR, 52\n LORD, WITH GLOWING HEART I'D PRAISE, 49, 50\n LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING, 47, 111\n LOVE UNFATHOMED AS THE OCEAN, 401\n\n MAGDALENA, SHOUT FOR GLADNESS, 473\n MAGNIFICAT ANIMA MEA, xii, 10\n MAJESTIC SWEETNESS SITS ENTHRONED, 23\n MARSEILLAISE HYMN, 174, 329, 352\n MEIN JESU, WIE DU WILLST, 499\n MID SCENES OF CONFUSION, 134\n MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY OF THE, 341\n MOURNFULLY, TENDERLY BEAR ON THE DEAD, 245, 246\n MUST JESUS BEAR THE CROSS ALONE, 411\n MY BROTHER, I WISH YOU WELL, 290\n MY COUNTRY 'TIS OF THEE, 336-338\n MY GOD, HOW ENDLESS IS THY LOVE, 105, 106\n MY GOD, I LOVE THEE, NOT BECAUSE, 75\n MY GOD, IS ANY HOUR SO SWEET, 214\n MY GOD, MY FATHER, WHILE I STRAY, 214\n MY GOD, MY PORTION AND MY LOVE, 382\n MY GRACIOUS REDEEMER, I LOVE, 132\n MY HOPE IS BUILT ON NOTHING LESS, 216, 217\n MY JESUS, AS THOU WILT, 499, 500\n MY JESUS, I LOVE THEE, 162, 163\n MY LORD AND MY GOD, I HAVE TRUSTED, 77\n MY LORD, HOW FULL OF SWEET CONTENT, 190, 192\n MY SAVIOUR KEEPS ME COMPANY, 189\n MY SOUL, BEHOLD THE FITNESS, 397\n\n NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE, 150-152\n NO CHANGE OF TIME SHALL EVER SHOCK, 193\n NOT ALL THE BLOOD OF BEASTS, 44\n NOW TO THE LORD A NOBLE SONG, 33\n\n O BLISS OF THE PURIFIED, 433\n O CANAAN, BRIGHT CANAAN, 273\n O CHURCH, ARISE AND SING, 186\n O COME, ALL YE FAITHFUL, 459\n O COULD I SPEAK THE MATCHLESS WORTH, 136\n O CROWN OF REJOICING, 451\n ODE ON SCIENCE, 330\n O DEUS, EGO AMO TE, 74\n O DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED, 298\n O'ER ALL THE WAY GREEN PALMS, 470\n O'ER THE GLOOMY HILLS OF DARKNESS, 166\n O FOR A CLOSER WALK WITH GOD, 129\n O FOR A THOUSAND TONGUES TO SING, 45, 46\n OFT IN DANGER, OFT IN WOE, 366\n O GALILEE SWEET GALILEE, 260, 319\n O HAD I THE WINGS OF A DOVE, 400\n O HAPPY DAY THAT FIXED MY CHOICE, 281\n O HAPPY SAINTS THAT DWELL IN LIGHT, 122\n O HELP US, LORD; EACH HOUR OF NEED, 278\n O HOW HAPPY ARE THEY, 281\n O HOW I LOVE JESUS, 291\n O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM, 468\n O LORD OF HOSTS, WHOSE GLORY FILLS, 485\n ONE MORE DAY'S WORK FOR JESUS, 418\n ONE SWEETLY SOLEMN THOUGHT, 529\n ON JORDAN'S STORMY BANKS, 24\n ONLY REMEMBERED, 308\n ON THE MOUNTAIN TOP APPEARING, 173\n ONWARD, CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS, 185, 186\n ONWARD RIDE IN TRIUMPH, JESUS, 382\n O PARADISE! O PARADISE! 525\n O PERFECT LOVE, 504\n O SACRED HEAD, NOW WOUNDED, 86\n O SING TO ME OF HEAVEN, 288\n O THE CLANGING BELLS OF TIME, 449\n O THE LAMB, THE LOVING LAMB, 271\n O THINK OF THE HOME OVER THERE, 463\n O THOU IN WHOSE PRESENCE MY SOUL, 281\n O THOU, MY SOUL, FORGET NO MORE, 492\n O THOU WHO DIDST PREPARE, 361\n O THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR, 244\n O THOU WHOSE TENDER MERCY HEARS, 198\n O TURN YE, O TURN YE, FOR WHY, 291\n OUR LORD HAS GONE UP ON HIGH, 473\n O WHEN SHALL I SEE JESUS, 276\n O WHERE SHALL REST BE FOUND, 145\n O WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL, 238\n O WORSHIP THE KING ALL GLORIOUS ABOVE, 22\n\n PARTED MANY A TOIL-SPENT YEAR, 267\n PATIENTLY ENDURING, 443\n PEACE, TROUBLED SOUL, WHOSE PLAINTIVE, 202\n PEOPLE OF THE LIVING GOD, 144\n PILGRIMS WE ARE TO ZION BOUND, 281\n PORTALS OF LIGHT, 443\n PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS, 13\n PULL FOR THE SHORE, 372\n\n REJOICE AND BE GLAD, 415\n RESCUE THE PERISHING, 425\n REVIVE THY WORK, O LORD, 445\n RISE, CROWNED WITH LIGHT, 238\n RISE, MY SOUL, AND STRETCH THY WINGS, 94\n ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME, 137\n\n SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS, 540\n SANCTIFY, O LORD, MY SPIRIT, 405\n SAVIOUR, LIKE A SHEPHERD LEAD US, 310\n SAVIOUR, THY DYING LOVE, 147\n SCATTER SEEDS OF KINDNESS, 317\n SCOTS WHA HAE WI WALLACE BLED, 335, 352\n SEE GENTLE PATIENCE SMILE ON PAIN, 104\n SEND THY SPIRIT, I BESEECH THEE, 406\n SERVANT OF GOD, WELL DONE, 498\n SHEPHERD OF TENDER YOUTH, 293-296\n SHOW PITY, LORD, O LORD FORGIVE, 44\n SHRINKING FROM THE COLD HAND OF DEATH, 520\n SINCE JESUS TRULY DID APPEAR, 503\n SISTER, THOU WAST MILD AND LOVELY, 498\n SO FADES THE LOVELY, BLOOMING FLOWER, 104, 198, 498\n SOFTLY FADES THE TWILIGHT RAY, 484\n SOFTLY NOW THE LIGHT OF DAY, 483\n SOON MAY THE LAST GLAD SONG ARISE, 173\n SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL, 326, 327\n SPEAK, O SPEAK, THOU GENTLE JESUS, 386\n SPEED AWAY, SPEED AWAY, 184\n SPIRIT OF GRACE AND LOVE DIVINE, 403\n STAND! THE GROUND'S YOUR OWN, 335\n STAR-SPANGLED BANNER, 49, 333-335\n STILL, STILL WITH THEE, 481\n SUN OF MY SOUL, MY SAVIOUR DEAR, 159\n SUNSET AND EVENING STAR, 535\n SUR NOS CHEMINS LES RAMEAUX, 470\n SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER, 432\n SWEET IS THE DAY OF SACRED REST, 488\n SWEET IS THE LIGHT OF SABBATH EVE, 488\n SWEET IS WORK, MY GOD, MY KING, 37\n SWEET IS THE WORK, O LORD, 168\n SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN BLESSING, 127\n\n TAKE ME AS I AM, O SAVIOUR, 384\n TE DEUM LAUDAMUS, 1\n TELL ME NOT IN MOURNFUL NUMBERS, 248\n TELL ME THE OLD, OLD STORY, 427\n THE BANNER OF IMMANUEL, 188, 189\n THE BIRD LET LOOSE IN EASTERN SKIES, 244\n THE BREAKING WAVES DASHED HIGH, 323\n THE CHARIOT! THE CHARIOT! 278\n THE DAY IS PAST AND GONE, 275\n THE DAY OF RESURRECTION, 54, 55\n THE EDEN OF LOVE, 272\n THE GLORY IS COMING, GOD SAID IT, 400\n THE GOD OF ABRAHAM PRAISE, 18\n THE GOD OF HARVEST PRAISE, 481\n THE HARP THAT ONCE THRO TARA'S HALL, 326, 328\n THE HEIGHTS OF FAIR SALEM ASCENDED, 403\n THE LORD DESCENDED FROM ABOVE, 15\n THE LORD INTO HIS GARDEN COMES, 277\n THE LORD IS RISEN INDEED, 475\n THE LORD OUR GOD IS CLOTHED WITH MIGHT, 366\n THE MORNING LIGHT IS BREAKING, 179, 180\n THE OCEAN HATH NO DANGER, 371\n THE PRIZE IS SET BEFORE US, 449\n THE SANDS OF TIME ARE SINKING, 78\n THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT SHRINE, 244\n THE WORLD IS VERY EVIL, 510\n THERE ARE LONELY HEARTS TO CHERISH, 312\n THERE IS A CALM FOR THOSE WHO WEEP, 499, 521\n THERE IS A GREEN HILL FAR AWAY, 414\n THERE IS A HAPPY LAND, 304\n THERE'S A LAND THAT IS FAIRER THAN DAY, 532\n THERE'S A WIDENESS IN GOD'S MERCY, 233, 234\n THERE WERE NINETY AND NINE, 422\n THEY THAT DWELL UPON THE DEEP, 353\n THINE EARTHLY SABBATHS, LORD, WE LOVE, 488\n THOU ART, O GOD, THE LIFE AND LIGHT, 244\n THOU DEAR REDEEMER, DYING LAMB, 124\n THOU LOVELY SOURCE OF TRUE DELIGHT, 198\n THROW OUT THE LIFE-LINE, 374-377\n 'TIS FINISHED! SO THE SAVIOUR CRIED, 24\n 'TIS RELIGION THAT CAN GIVE, 303\n TO CHRIST THE LORD LET EVERY TONGUE, 25\n TO GOD THE FATHER, GOD THE SON, 14\n TO LEAVE MY DEAR FRIENDS, AND FROM NEIGHBORS, 146\n TO THE WORK, TO THE WORK! 438\n TOO LATE! TOO LATE! 259\n TRIUMPHANT ZION, LIFT THY HEAD, 510\n\n ULTIMA THULE, 320\n UNDER THE PALMS, 254\n UNNUMBERED ARE THE MARVELS, 402\n UNTO THY PRESENCE COMING, 392\n UNVEIL THY BOSOM FAITHFUL TOMB, 44, 498\n UP AND AWAY LIKE THE DEW, 308\n URBS SION AUREA, 509, 511\n VENI, SANCTE SPIRITUS, 57, 58\n VERZAGE NICHT, DU HAUFLEIN KLEIN, 82\n VITAL SPARK OF HEAVENLY FLAME, 515\n\n WATCHMAN, TELL US OF THE NIGHT, 170\n WE ARE ON OUR JOURNEY HOME, 417\n WELCOME, DELIGHTFUL MORN, 488\n WE PLOW THE FIELDS AND SCATTER, 478\n WE PRAISE THEE, O GOD, FOR THE SON, 416\n WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT BY THE WATERS, 241\n WE SHALL MEET BEYOND THE RIVER, 528\n WE SPEAK OF THE LAND OF THE BLEST, 307\n WESTWARD THE COURSE OF EMPIRE, 324\n WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS, 425\n WHAT SHALL A DYING SINNER DO, 43\n WHAT SHALL THE HARVEST BE, 434\n WHAT VARIOUS HINDRANCES WE MEET, 131\n WHEN ALL THY MERCIES, O MY GOD, 113\n WHEN FOR ETERNAL WORLDS I STEER, 286\n WHEN HE COMETH, WHEN HE COMETH, 314\n WHEN I CAN READ MY TITLE CLEAR, 43, 514\n WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS AROUND I VIEW, 212\n WHEN ISRAEL OF THE LORD BELOVED, 240\n WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS, 42, 109\n WHEN LANGUOR AND DISEASE INVADE, 137\n WHEN MARSHALLED ON THE NIGHTLY PLAIN, 364\n WHEN MY FINAL FAREWELL TO THE WORLD, 441, 442\n WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED WITH WOE, 278\n WHEN PEACE LIKE A RIVER, 440\n WHEN SHALL WE ALL MEET AGAIN, 265, 266\n WHEN TWO OR THREE WITH SWEET ACCORD, 24\n WHERE IS MY WANDERING BOY TO-NIGHT? 446\n WHERE NOW ARE THE HEBREW CHILDREN? 270\n WHILE JESUS WHISPERS TO YOU, 418\n WHILE SHEPHERDS WATCHED THEIR FLOCKS, 465\n WHILE THEE I SEEK, PROTECTING POWER, 125, 207\n WHILE WITH CEASELESS COURSE THE SUN, 493\n WHY SHOULD WE START AND FEAR TO DIE, 512\n WIDE, YE HEAVENLY GATES UNFOLD, 168\n WITH JOY WE HAIL THE SACRED DAY, 168\n WITH SONGS AND HONORS SOUNDING LOUD, 479\n WITH TEARFUL EYES I LOOK AROUND, 214\n\n YE CHOIRS OF NEW JERUSALEM, 59, 60\n YE CHRISTIAN HERALDS, GO PROCLAIM, 171, 172\n YE CHRISTIAN HEROES, WAKE TO GLORY, 174\n YE GOLDEN LAMPS OF HEAVEN, FAREWELL, 519\n YE SERVANTS OF GOD, YOUR MASTER PROCLAIM, 204\n YES, MY NATIVE LAND, I LOVE THEE, 180\n YES, THE REDEEMER ROSE, 476\n YOUR HARPS; YE TREMBLING SAINTS, 517\n\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n Obvious spelling/typographical and punctuation errors\n have been corrected after careful comparison with other\n occurences within the text and consultation of external\n sources. Details can be found in the HTML version.","title":"The Story of the Hymns and Tunes","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":122483}