HYMNS SUGGESTED BY SURROUNDINGS
The Women in the Field
It was in the month of February, 1832, that James Montgomery, the well-known hymn writer, and a blind friend, Rowland Hodgson, were returning from Bath in a carriage. On the road between Gloucester and Tewkesbury they passed a field to which Montgomery's attention was attracted. Evidently it had been recently plowed and harrowed, as the surface was level and not furrowed, and in it were working a number of women and girls in rows one behind the other. From their stooping attitude they might have been weeding, had not the clean fresh surface of the field proved this to be impossible, and it seemed to Montgomery that they must be planting something, although they were too far off for him to see very clearly.
Turning to his blind friend, Montgomery described the scene to him, and he at once replied, “Oh, I dare say it is dibbling, a much more economical way of sowing than the usual method. Holes are made in the field, and two or three grains of corn dropped into each hole." “Well, give me broadcast sowing, "rejoined Montgomery," for this dibbling is most un-picturesque, with grace neither of attitude nor of motion in it.”
As the carriage rolled on its way, Montgomery's thought ran upon the subject of husbandry, until, he says, they began to turn into verse, and in the course of the next few miles they had assumed the form of the seven stanzas of one of his widely used hymns, beginning,
Sow in the morn thy seed,
At eve hold not thine hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
Broadcast it o'er the land.
The hymn was headed "The Field of the World," and was printed for the use of the Sheffield Sunday School Union among their Whitsuntide hymns the same year. It will be observed that the poet in his first verse adheres to his preference for "broadcasting" rather than "dibbling" as a method of sowing.
The Words on the Tombstone
A friend of Mrs. Margaret Mackay was driving her one day through the beautiful roads and lanes of Devonshire. Passing a country churchyard the ladies were attracted by its appearance, and, pulling up the pony carriage, went in to look at the graves.
The churchyard was not laid out as a garden, but it was well cared for, and the grass was of a lovely green. "It was," says Mrs. Mackay, "a place of such sweet, entire repose as to leave a lasting impression on the memory." As the friends strolled on they came to a headstone, on which were carved the three words "Sleeping in Jesus," words which, seen amid such beautiful and peaceful surroundings, fastened themselves on Mrs. Mackay's mind.
On their arrival home, Mrs. Mackay at once took pencil and paper, and began to write that touching hymn, which has not only been so widely sung, but has itself often furnished words for many other tombstones, beginning,
Asleep in Jesus Blessed sleep,
From which none ever wake to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes.
The influence of the quiet and peaceful spot, where the suggestion for the hymn was given, is clearly traceable in Mrs. Mackay's delightful lines.
The Canceled Removal
In 1772 the Rev. John Fawcett, then pastor of the Baptist Chapel at Wainsgate, near Hebden Bridge, in Yorkshire, received and accepted an invitation to succeed the famous Dr. J. Gill as minister of Carter's Lane Chapel, London. The farewell sermon at Wainsgate was preached on the Sunday, and was followed by the arrival of the wagons for removal. On these the pastor's furniture and household effects were packed, and all was ready for departure, when at that last moment the affection and the tearful pleadings of his flock gained the day and Mr. Fawcett decided to cancel his acceptance of the great London pastorate, and to remain in his little village of Wainsgate, where he continued to minister until, five years later, a new chapel was built for him at Hebden Bridge. It was this touching incident which inspired him to write the well-known hymn, which opens thus:
Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.
The Blast Furnaces
At one period of his life Charles Wesley preached with marvelous success to the colliers of Newcastle, which, as usual with him, called forth his thankfulness in hymns, four of which were then written. One of these undoubtedly has the imagery of the first verse suggested by the blast furnaces and burning pit-heaps which are scattered over the district around Newcastle, and which at night illumine the whole neighborhood. The verse runs,
See how great a flame aspires,
Kindled by a spark of grace!
Jesu's love the nations fires,
Sets the kingdoms on a blaze;
To bring fire on earth He came,
Kindled in some hearts it is,
Oh, that all might catch the flame,
All partake the glorious bliss!
The Walk Round the Cathedral
On Whitsun-Tuesday, June 14, 1870, the Ninth Festival of the Canterbury Diocesan Choral Union was held in the cathedral, the music being rendered by nine hundred voices. After it was over Dean Alford arranged that at the next festival, Whitsun-Tuesday, 1871, a processional hymn should be sung for which he had furnished both words and music.
The Dean was already well known as a hymn writer, although his work has been criticized as "cold and conventional," containing neither striking poetry nor original thought. Be that as it may, there can be no question as to the popularity of his hymn, "Come, ye thankful people, come," nor of the real beauty of "Ten thousand times ten thousand," while his hymn "In token that thou shalt not fear," first used at the Baptism of his own first child in Wymeswold Church, occurs in a greater number of hymn books than any other hymn for use at that Sacrament, although its poetical merit is not very great.
Previously to the festival in 1870, the precentor of Canterbury Cathedral had requested the Dean to write a processional hymn, but on receiving the composition he ventured to point out that, although the hymn was good in some ways, it was quite unsuitable for singing while marching in a procession. He then suggested that the Dean should walk slowly round the cathedral, following the course that a procession would take, and compose another hymn as he walked. The Dean adopted this advice, and walked round the cathedral, composing as he went, after which he handed the precentor his new hymn, beginning, Forward be our watchword,
Steps and voices joined.
The second of the above lines would seem to indicate that the precentor's hint was still uppermost in his mind, since it was the disunion of "steps and voices" which had marred his first hymn, while the surroundings of the majestic cathedral, amid which he was walking, have left their unmistakable imprint upon the fifth verse:
Into God's high temple
Onward as we press,
Beauty spreads around us,
Born of holiness.
Arch, and vault, and carving,
Lights of varied tone,
Softened words and holy,
Prayer and praise alone.
Of the tune for this hymn the Dean, curiously enough, wrote the treble and bass, while Miss Lindsay (afterward Mrs. Worthington Bliss) added the two inner parts. But his anticipation of hearing his verses sung at the next great Choral Festival was never realized, for he died six months before the following Whitsuntide. It was the Dean's last hymns
The Earthquake
There was a most alarming earthquake in London on February 8, 1750, which caused widespread terror and alarm. Four weeks later followed a still more severe shock, the people rushing from their houses into Hyde Park, Moorfields, and other open spaces, for safety, while the excitement was increased by a mad dragoon, who declared that all London would be swallowed up on the 4th of April following.
When the second shock occurred at 5 a.m. Charles Wesley was just giving out his text at an early service in the Foundry Chapel, which he at once changed for the words "Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be moved, and the hills be carried into the midst of the sea" (Psa. 46:22Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; (Psalm 46:2), Prayer Book Version). The general fear and alarm gave a marvelous opportunity for Whitefield and Wesley to preach the Gospel to the people, crowds of whom flocked to them from every quarter, the chapel being filled even at midnight. On this occasion Charles Wesley composed no less than nineteen hymns, suitable for the time. The following verse, quoted from one of them beginning "How weak the thoughts, and vain," will show how he made use of the earthquake:
A house we call our own,
Which cannot be o'erthrown;
In the general ruin sure
Storms and earthquakes it defies;
Built immovably secure,
Built eternal in the skies.
A Hymn From a Hymn
Few hymns have so "caught on" in children's meetings as Mr. Bliss's beautifully simple lines, beginning,
I am so glad that our Father in heaven
Tells of His love in the Book He has given:
Wonderful things in the Bible I see,
This is the dearest, that Jesus loves me.
The hymn really originated from another, which had the chorus "Oh, how I love Jesus!" Mr. Bliss was present at a meeting in which he had joined over and over again in singing this chorus, when, he says, the thought came to him that while he had been thus singing about his poor love for Christ he ought rather to sing about Christ's great love for him. Under the influence of this thought he went back to his home, and there wrote this most attractive and beautiful children's hymn.
In the Cleft of the Rock
The Rev. Augustus M. Toplady, when Vicar of Blagdon, in Somersetshire, was walking through Burrington Combe, a beautiful spot some two or three miles from his home, when he was caught in a sudden storm. The particular place is very exposed, affording no shelter, but Toplady espied a cleft running down a mass of rock beside the road, in which he was able to take refuge until the storm abated (see the Frontispiece).
A man of saintly character, his thoughts were turned by the incident to spiritual things, and picking up a playing card which he found lying on the ground at his feet, he wrote upon the back of it the hymn of which it has been said that "no other English hymn can be named which has laid so broad and firm a grasp upon the English-speaking world," beginning,
Rock of Ages! cleft for me
Let me hide myself in Thee!
The playing card upon which the hymn was first written is still preserved in America.
It was this hymn which afforded such comfort, among multitudes of others, to the Prince Consort and which he repeated constantly upon his deathbed. "For," said he, “if in this hour I had only my worldly honors and dignities to depend upon, I should be poor indeed!
The Collapse of the Floor
On March 14, 1744, Charles Wesley paid his third visit to Leeds, and a great meeting of the members of the Society was held in an old upper room, which was crowded out, numbers being unable to obtain admission. Suddenly the rafters supporting the floor broke off close to the main beam, the floor collapsed, and over a hundred people were precipitated into the room below. Mercifully none were killed, though some were severely injured, Wesley himself escaping with but slight injuries.
He relates that he saw the people under him, lying in heaps, and cried out, " Fear not I The Lord is with us; our lives are all safe," and immediately gave out the Doxology," Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow.”
It was after this escape that Wesley wrote the hymn of twelve verses which began "Glory and thanks to God we give," and was headed "After a Deliverance from Death by the Fall of a House." The hymn in its original form was unsuited for congregational use, but six of its verses form a fairly well-known hymn, opening thus:
The great Archangel's trump shall sound,
which appears in Wesley's Hymns under the title "Describing Judgment." It displays a great power of word-painting, as can be seen from the following verses, which are obviously framed upon Wesley's thrilling remembrance of gazing down upon the mass of injured after the floor had given way:
The earth, and all the works therein,
Dissolve, by raging flames destroyed,
While we survey the awful scene,
And mount above the fiery void.
By faith we now transcend the skies,
And on that ruined world look down;
By love above all height we rise,
And share the everlasting throne.
The Drive to the Shops
In the middle of last century some little Irish boys were complaining to each other that the Church Catechism, which they had to learn, was dreadfully dull and dreary. Their godmother overheard their remarks, and set herself each week to write verses which should make the meaning of the Catechism plain, until presently the boys became full of interest in the subject.
These hymns have been sung, and are beloved, by thousands of children ever since; such as "Do no sinful action," written to explain the Baptismal promise to "renounce the devil and all his works"; "All things bright and beautiful," expanding the truth of "I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth"; "Once in royal David's city," drawn from the words "And in Jesus Christ, His Only Son, our Lord, Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary," etc.
The most famous of them all, perhaps, had its first verse suggested by the fact that the lady in question, Mrs. Alexander, had to drive in to the city of Derry on her shopping expeditions, a city which is still surrounded by its old walls. By the side of the road, close to the city, was a little grass-covered hill, which always reminded Mrs. Alexander of Calvary. When, therefore, she came to expound for her little godsons the words "Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified dead, and buried," this well-known spot came into her mind, and so she wrote,
There is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified,
Who died to save us all.
It may be of interest, however, to recall the fact that, despite the many wonderful pictures of the world's greatest tragedy representing Calvary as Mrs. Alexander imagined it, there is no statement in Scripture to the effect that our Lord was crucified on a "hill," any more than there can be found the name "Calvary" in the Gospel narrative. All four evangelists simply speak of the scene of the Crucifixion as a "place," while "Calvary" is simply the Latinizing of St. Luke's word which he uses when he tells us that the "place" was called "The Skull"—as a glance at St. Luke 23:3333And when they were come to the place, which is called Calvary, there they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand, and the other on the left. (Luke 23:33) in the Revised Version will show. It is true that the name may have been given from the place being a small, rounded eminence, in shape like a human head, but this is merely conjecture and not certainty.
In Hiding on the River Bank
The Rev. David Nelson, although an ordained minister, owned at one time a plantation and slaves in America, until one day he heard an address on the subject which completely altered his views. He disposed of his plantation, declaring that he would live on potatoes and salt rather than own slaves, and his bold denunciation of the practice brought down upon him the wrath of his slave- owning neighbors.
He was driven from his home, and hunted for three days and nights through the woods and swamps, until he emerged on the bank of the Mississippi River. He managed to communicate his whereabouts by signs to friends on the opposite bank of the great stream, and then concealed himself in the bushes until nightfall, hearing all around him the voices of his pursuers, who even thrust their guns into the very clump of bushes in which he lay hidden, but failed to discover him.
Lying there, driven from home, gazing at the swiftly gliding waters and at the land of safety beyond, he composed, and wrote on the back of a letter which chanced to be in his pocket, the hymn beginning, My days are gliding swiftly by,
And I, a pilgrim stranger,
Would not detain them as they fly,
Those hours of toil and danger;
For oh, we stand on Jordan's strand,
Our friends are passing over;
And, just before, the shining shore
We may almost discover.
As the evening drew on some members of the Church at Quincy, on the opposite bank, crossed over in a canoe, under the pretense of fishing, and, meeting him as he rushed down to the water's edge, conveyed him to safety.