In the town of Newport, Monmouthshire, England, many years ago (1752) there was born a little boy who, though little known to the world, nevertheless was destined to write a beautiful hymn which God has used in blessing to thousands since.
Jehoida Brewer, whose portrait appears above, grew to young manhood and entered business life as a merchant and trader. However, while still young, it seems the Lord spoke to him in His grace, made him to see what a sinner he was, and showed him Christ as His only hope of salvation. Young Jehoida became deeply impressed and anxious until his soul found a resting place in Christ and His work on the cross.
He first thought to enter the church but changed his mind and became an independent preacher. He began to preach the gospel at 22 years of age, first at Rodborough, Gloucestershire. Later he went to Sheffield and then to Birmingham. There a large hall was being erected for him when he died on August 24, 1817. He was buried in a plot adjoining the unfinished chapel.
Much more might have been recorded of one so able and earnest in the cause of Christ but for his dying request that no memoir of him should be published.
The following beautiful hymn—it is believed—was the only one Jehoida Brewer ever wrote; it appeared first in the Gospel Magazine in 1776, when he was but 24 years of age.
HAIL, sovereign love, which first began
That scheme to rescue fallen man!
Hail, matchless, free, eternal grace,
Which gave my soul a hiding place.
Against the God who built the sky
I fought with hands uplifted high;
Despised the mention of His grace,
Too proud to seek a hiding place.
Enwrapt in thick Egyptian night,
And fond of darkness more than light,
Madly I ran the sinful race,
Secure without a hiding place.
And thus the eternal counsels ran,
“Almighty love, arrest that man!”
I felt the arrows of distress,
And found I had no hiding place.
Indignant Justice stood in view,
To Sinai’s fiery mount I flew;
But Justice cried with frowning face,
“This mountain is no hiding place.”
On Jesus, God’s just vengeance fell,
Which would have sunk a world to hell;
He bore it for a sinful race,
And thus became their Hiding Place.
Should sevenfold storms of thunder roll,
And shake this globe from pole to pole,
No thunderbolt shall daunt my face,
For Jesus is my Hiding Place.
A few more rolling suns at most,
Shall land me on fair Canaan’s coast,
Where I shall sing the song of grace,
And see my glorious Hiding Place.
A very interesting and affecting story is connected with this hymn. It was found in the pocket of Major Andre, who was shot as a spy in the American Revolutionary War. We are led to believe that perhaps Major Andre was deeply impressed with these stirring lines. We can only hope that he too turned to the Lord Jesus in the hour of his greatest need and found peace and pardon in Him who died for sinners.
ML 02/14/1965