HYMNS EXPRESSING PERSONAL FEELINGS
The Terrible Affliction of Insanity
To lose one's reason is surely the most awful affliction that can be endured by any human being. Yet from such a terrible experience the Church of God has gained one of her most wonderful hymns. The poet Cowper was a deeply religious man, but became insane for a time in 1773, in October of which year he attempted to commit suicide by drowning in the River Ouse at Olney, in Buckinghamshire.
His friend, the Rev. John Newton, Vicar of Olney, has pointed out that even this attempt was a proof of his perfect submission to the will of God; for, he says, "it was solely owing to the power the enemy had of impressing upon his disturbed imagination that it was the will of God he should, after the example of Abraham, perform an expensive act of obedience, and offer, not a son, but himself.”
Some believe that it was early in 1778—in "the twilight of departing reason" as one writer describes it—while others think it was after his insanity had left him, in 1774, that he wrote the hymn beginning "God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform,"—a hymn which has become one of the most widely known in English-speaking countries.
How truly pathetic, in the light of this terrible affliction, are the lines in which the writer undoubtedly refers to his own awful experience, in words which breathe the deepest submission and trust:
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace:
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
The Sick Friend
In the Church of Holy Trinity, Ripon, of which the author of this volume is Vicar, is a tablet with an inscription:
TO THE MEMORY OF SUSANNAH POWLEY,
ONLY DAUGHTER
OF MRS. UNWIN, THE FRIEND OF COWPER.
The friendship between the poet and Mrs. Unwin was true and deep, and to that friendship is due one of the most tender and touching hymns we possess. In December, 1769, Mrs. Unwin was very seriously ill, and in a letter to another friend Cowper writes of his great distress and anxiety concerning one whom he calls "the chief of blessing I have met with in my journey." With touching resignation he adds: "Her illness has been a sharp trial to me. Oh! that it may have a sanctified effect, that I may rejoice to surrender up to the Lord my dearest comforts the moment He shall require them. Oh, for no will but the will of my Heavenly Father!”
He then thanks the friend for some verses sent to him, and encloses some of his own in return, these being those beautiful lines so well known throughout the Christian Church:
Oh, for a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame,
A light to shine upon the road
That leads me to the Lamb.
Cowper's own account of their composition is as follows: "I began to compose them yesterday morning (December 9, 1769) before daybreak, but fell asleep at the end of the first two lines; when I awaked again, the third and fourth verses were whispered to my heart in a way which I have often experienced.”
Truly does a writer say of these wonderful verses, and of the light which Cowper's letter throws upon them: " We read a new and pathetically personal history and meaning in the earnest and throbbing lines, and are brought face to face with an agony which would have been voiceless but for the mercy and goodness of God.''.
The Repentant Author
The famous hymn writer, James Montgomery, at one time wrote and printed in the paper of which he was editor, The Sheffield Iris, a series of essays entitled "The Whisperer, or Hints and Speculations, by Gabriel Silvertongue, Gent." These essays, afterward reproduced in volume form, were full of irreverent references to and quotations from Holy Scripture. Some ten years later, the author saw his wrongdoing, and repented. He destroyed all the copies of his book which he could find, and expressed his repentance in the hymn which he then wrote, beginning "I left the God of truth and light.”
The two opening verses run thus:
I left the God of truth and light,
I left the God Who gave me breath,
To wander in the wilds of night,
And perish in the snares of death.
Sweet was His service, and His yoke
Was light, and easy to be borne;
Through all His bands of love I broke,
I cast away His gifts with scorn.
The two closing stanzas are as follows:
My suffering, slain, and risen Lord,
In sore distress I turn to Thee;
I claim acceptance on Thy word,
My God I my God forsake not me.
Prostrate before the mercy seat,
I dare not, if I would, despair;
None ever perished at Thy feet,
And I will lie forever there.
After His Last Sermon
The Rev. Henry Lyte, the author of the world-famous hymn, beginning,
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide,
was Vicar of Lower Brixham, in Devonshire. In the year 1847, at the age of fifty-four, he felt the approach of life's eventide, and his rapidly failing health determined him to spend the winter in Italy. It was as the date of his departure drew near that from his couch he gave to the world this magnificent hymn, which has found a place in almost every hymnal. His daughter has given the following account of the day of its composition: “The summer was passing away, and the month of September (that month in which he was once more to quit his native land) arrived, and each day seemed to have a special value as being one day nearer his departure. His family were surprised, and almost alarmed, at his announcing his intention of preaching once more to his people. His weakness, and the possible danger attending the effort, were urged to prevent it, but in vain. He felt that he should be enabled to fulfill his wish, and feared not for the result.
“His expectation was well founded. He did preach, and amid the breathless attention of his hearers gave them a sermon on the Holy Communion. He afterward assisted in the administration of the Holy Eucharist, and though necessarily much exhausted by the exertion and excitement of this effort, yet his friends had no reason to believe it had been hurtful to him.
“In the evening of the same day he placed in the hands of a near and dear relative the little hymn "Abide with me," with an air of his own composing, adapted to the words.”
This took place on September 4th, and Henry Lyte died at Nice on the 20th of the following November, his last words being "Peace! Joy!”
The Apologetic Hymn
Phœbe Brown was born in America in 1783, and left an orphan at two years of age. Seven years later she fell into the hands of a relative who kept a county gaol, and her son records that the tale of the next nine years "is a narrative of such deprivations, cruel treatment, and toil as breaks my heart to read.”
At the age of eighteen she escaped from this bondage, and was sent by some kind people to school for three months, which was apparently her sole education. Even after marriage her life was one of poverty and trial. Her son, the Rev. S. R. Brown, D.D., became the first American missionary to Japan, and, despite all her own disadvantages, her hymns are said to be superior to those of any other female writer of hymns in America at that time. One of the most popular of these hymns is the one now beginning "I love to steal awhile away," and few hymns, it has been truly said, have a more pathetic history.
Mrs. Brown was living at Ellington with, as she says, "four little children, in a small unfinished house, a sick sister in the only finished room, and not a place above or below where I could retire for devotion." Not far off stood the finest house in the neighborhood, with a large garden. Towards this the poor woman used to walk at dusk, delighting "to smell the fragrance of the fruits and flowers, though she could not see them," and to hold communion with nature and with God. In doing this she never dreamed that she was intruding, or that she was being watched and her motives misconstrued, until one day the lady of the mansion approached her, and with great rudeness said:
Mrs. Brown, why do you come up at evening so near our house, and then go back without coming in? If you want anything, why don't you come in and ask for it?”
Mrs. Brown writes: "There was something in her manner, more than her words, which grieved me. I went home, and that evening was left alone. After my children were all in bed, except my baby, I sat down in the kitchen with my child in my arms, when the grief of my heart burst forth in a flood of tears. I took pen and paper and gave vent to my oppressed heart.”
The poem thus written is headed "An Apology for my Twilight Rambles, Addressed to a Lady, August, 1818." The original has been somewhat altered, and the first stanza omitted, in the version of the hymn so popular in America, the first three verses of which run thus:
I love to steal awhile away
From every cumbering care,
And spend the hours of closing day
In humble, grateful prayer.
I love in solitude to shed
The penitential tear,
And all His promises to plead,
Where none but God can hear.
I love to think on mercies past,
And future good implore;
And all my cares and sorrows cast
On Him Whom I adore.
The hymn appears in Sankey's collection, Sacred Songs and Solos, No. 634.
The Great Poet's Last Hymn
It has been said that, taking quantity and quality into consideration, Charles Wesley was the greatest hymn writer of all ages. His hymns number some 6,500, and though it would be impossible for all to be of equal merit, yet a very large number of these reach the highest standard. On every conceivable occasion he expressed his feelings in a hymn. His conversion, his marriage, the earthquake panic, the rumors of a French invasion, the defeat of Prince Charles Edward at Culloden, the Gordon riots, all the Festivals of the Church, scenes from the Bible, incidents that fell within his own experience, the home calls of his various friends—all these furnished occasions for the exercise of his gift. The last of this magnificent series of contributions to the hymnody of the Church was inspired by the thought of his own approaching death.
At the age of eighty, and in extreme feebleness, he had remained silent and quiet for some time, when he called Mrs. Wesley to him and desired her to write at his dictation his final hymn. Truly has it been said of him that "for fifty years Christ as the Redeemer of men had been the subject of his effective ministry, and of his loftiest songs, and he may be said to have died with a hymn to Christ on his lips." Consisting only of a single stanza, the hymn is naturally unsuited for public use, and, therefore, is very little known (although it is included in the Methodist Hymn Book), so that it may be of interest to my readers to quote it here in its striking pathos and beauty:
In age and feebleness extreme,
Who shall a helpless worm redeem?
Jesus! my only hope Thou art,
Strength of my failing flesh and heart;
Oh, could I catch one smile from Thee,
And drop into eternity!
The Shadows of the Poplars
Mary Bachelor was the daughter of a minister, and living with her brother, to whom she was devotedly attached, and who was himself also a minister. All her joys and sorrows were confided to her brother, the selfishness of thus adding to his own cares never occurring to her, until one day when she had been telling him of some special trouble that had come upon her.
She was standing by the open window, looking out upon the lawn, when her conscience reproached her for her thoughtlessness, and as she saw the tall poplar-trees throwing their long shadows across the grass she thought to herself that they represented exactly what she had been doing to her brother, in thrusting upon him the burden of her cares. "Why did I do it?" she thought; "why did I not bury my own sorrows, and try to add brightness to his life?”
Tears of regret were filling her eyes as she left the window and retired to her own little room at the top of the house, and there she wrote the hymn which has borne its message and brought real comfort to many sorrowful and care-laden hearts:
Go bury thy sorrow,
The world hath its share
Go bury it deeply,
Go hide it with care.
Go think of it calmly,
When curtained by night;
Go tell it to Jesus,
And all will be right.
His Wife's Funeral Sermon
Maxwell Cornelius, when a young man living in Pittsburg, broke his leg, which the doctors had to amputate, thus maiming him for life. This decided him to abandon business and go to college, after which he became a minister. He had charge of a large Presbyterian Church at Pasadena, in California, but had considerable difficulty in clearing the building of debt. A short time after accomplishing this, his wife died. Dr. Cornelius himself preached the funeral sermon, and at the conclusion quoted a hymn which he had composed a short time before, and of which the first verse ran:
Not now, but in the coming years—
It may be in the better land—
We'll read the meaning of our tears,
And there, some time, we'll understand.
Both sermon and hymn were published in a newspaper, and were read by Major Whittle, who was so struck by their beauty that he cut them out and carried them in his Bible for three months, at the end of which time he, one day, wrote for them a chorus:
Then trust in God through all thy days;
Fear not for He doth hold thy hand;
Though dark thy way, still sing and praise;
Some time, some time we'll understand.
Shortly after writing these lines he handed both hymn and chorus to his friend Mr. McGranahan, to whose music the words are now sung.
The Marriage Hymn
The hymn in the Methodist Hymn Book beginning "Appointed by Thee, we meet in Thy Name," is an abridged form of a hymn by Charles Wesley, of a different significance and with an interesting origin. Wesley had reached the age of forty with no thought of marriage, desiring to give himself wholly to the preaching of the Gospel. But about this time he began to wonder whether he had not been wrong. He met with a young lady in Wales who appealed strongly to his affections, and he consulted his brother (who gave him no help) as well as other friends. He prayed and waited, writing several hymns expressing his feelings during that time. Finally he was married to Miss Sarah Gwynne in a Welsh Church on April 8, 1749, and the hymn referred to is extracted from the marriage hymn from Wesley's pen which was sung on that occasion. The original opening verses of the hymn ran thus:
How happy the pair Whom Jesus unites
In friendship to share Angelic delights,
Whose chaste conversation Is coupled with fear,
Whose sure expectation Is holiness here.
My Jesus, my Lord, Thy grace I commend,
So kind to afford My weakness a friend,
Thy only good pleasure On me hath bestowed
A heavenly treasure, A servant of God.
Kept in His Pocket Book
Dr. Ray Palmer began his life as a clerk in a dry-goods store; he ended it as a beloved pastor of the Congregational Church of America, a learned Doctor of Divinity, and a famous hymn writer! Remarkably enough the first of all his hymns is the most widely known and the best loved. From his dry-goods store he had passed to an academy and thence to Yale College, where he took his degree in 1830, being then only twenty-two years of age. On leaving college he took a teaching engagement, and it was then that he wrote his first and finest hymn:
My faith looks up to Thee,
Thou Lamb of Calvary,
Savior Divine;
Now hear me while I pray:
Take all my sins away;
Oh, let me from this day
Be wholly Thine.
The author says, concerning its composition, "I gave form to what I felt, by writing, with little effort, these stanzas. I recollect I wrote them with very tender emotion, and ended the last line with tears," that last line being,
O bear me safe above—
A ransomed soul.
When Mr. Palmer had finished the hymn he placed the manuscript in his pocket-book and carried it about with him for some time, until one day, in Boston, he met Dr. Lowell Mason who was then compiling, in conjunction with Dr. T. Hastings, a new hymn book, entitled Spiritual Songs for Social Worship.
Dr. Mason asked Mr. Palmer whether he had not some hymn to contribute to the new book, whereupon Mr. Palmer pulled out his pocketbook and handed him this manuscript. On reaching home, Dr. Mason was so impressed with the verses that he wrote for it the well-known tune called "Olivet," to which it is usually sung.
Although not at first attracting much notice, the hymn has now made its way into all English-speaking countries, and has also been translated into numerous languages.
Dr. Palmer wrote many other hymns, one, composed twenty-eight years later, again in response to a request for contributions to a new book and accounted by many as the author's second best hymn for merit and beauty, beginning,
Jesus, these eyes have never seen
That radiant form of Thine;
The veil of sense hangs dark between
Thy Blessed Face and mine,
a hymn which deserves a far wider recognition than it has obtained in this country. But Dr. Palmer's first hymn still stands pre—eminent among his compositions. The author, in writing to the editor of The Hymnal Companion, said of it: "It was introduced into England in 1840, has been translated into other languages, and has been referred to as one of the last hymns that dying saints have sung, or desired to hear. It has been a comfort to Christian hearts, doubtless, chiefly because it expresses in a simple way that act which is most central in all Christian life—the act of trust in the Atoning Lamb." Dr. Mason was a true prophet when, meeting Mr. Palmer in the street soon after he had handed him the hymn, he exclaimed, " Mr. Palmer, you may live many years and do many good things, but I think you will be best known to posterity as the author of ' My faith looks up to Thee.’”
During the Bazaar
A misconception is frequently uttered in connection with Miss Charlotte Elliott's hymn, beginning, Just as I am, without one plea.
That Miss Elliott owed her conversion to the Rev. Dr. Caesar Malan is undisputed. It is related that he ventured to ask her some question as to her spiritual state which she then deeply resented, but that some weeks later she went to him and told him that she now had the earnest desire to really be a Christian, and asked him to tell her how to come to Christ, adding that she supposed she would first have to try and make herself more worthy of Him, to which Dr. Malan replied: "Come to Him just as you are.”
To this experience, naturally enough, has been ascribed the writing of the hymn, the words "Just as I am," which begin every verse, appearing to be the repetition of the truth she learned that day.
Quite possibly the words of Dr. Malan did recur to her, and so become the refrain of the hymn, but the actual occasion of its writing was very different, as related by Dr. Moule, the late Bishop of Durham, a relative of the Elliott family.
Miss Elliott's brother, the Rev. H. V. Elliott, was planning the erection of St. Mary's Hall at Brighton, as a school for the daughters of clergymen, and it was decided to hold a bazaar in aid of the fund.
Miss Elliott was then forty-five years of age and suffering from ill-health, so that while "Westfield Lodge," her home at Brighton, was all astir with preparations for the bazaar, Miss Elliott herself could do nothing. The night before the event the thought of her uselessness kept her awake in sorrow, until she began to question the reality of the whole of her own spiritual life.
The next day, the busy day of the bazaar, when all the rest of the family were gone, leaving Miss Elliott lying on the sofa in great weakness, these doubts and fears returned with fresh force, and she felt that she must fight out this battle once for all.
Gathering up, therefore, the great truths which were the foundation of her faith—her Lord, His love, His power, His promises—she took pen and paper from the table, and set down, as the definite expression of her hope of salvation and for her own comfort, those wonderful lines, beginning,
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy Blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come.
What a new light these circumstances shed on such words as those of the third verse:
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings within and fears without,
O Lamb of God, I come
After a while her sister-in-law came in to tell her of the progress of the bazaar, and, after reading the hymn, asked—as well she might!—for a copy. So it stole out from that quiet room of suffering to bring its message to thousands and to be of untold blessing to the world! No wonder that the Rev. H. V. Elliott wrote, in after-years: "In the course of a long ministry I hope I have been permitted to see some fruit of my labors; but I feel far more has been done by this single hymn of my sister's.”