THE
LATIN HYMN-WRITERS
AND
THEIR HYMNS.
BY THE LATE
SAMUEL WILLOUGHBY DUFFIELD,
Author of “The Heavenly Land,” “Warp and Woof,” “The Burial of the
Dead,” and “English Hymns: Their Authors and History.”
EDITED AND COMPLETED BY
PROF. R. E. THOMPSON, D.D.,
_Of the University of Pennsylvania._
“Et semper in hunc studiorum quare munitissimum portum ex hujus
temporis tempestatibus lubenter confugissem.”—H. A. Daniel.
“In diesem Sinne betrachte ich diese, uns von der Vorzeit
überlieferten ehrwürdigen und erhabenen Kirchlichen Dichtungen als ein
geistiges Gemeingut.”—G. A. Konigsfeld.
FUNK & WAGNALLS,
NEW YORK: 1889. LONDON:
18 & 20 ASTOR PLACE. 44 FLEET STREET.
_All Rights Reserved._
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by
FUNK & WAGNALLS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Editor’s Preface iii
Introduction viii
I The Praise Service of the Early Church xi
II The Study of the Latin Hymns 12
III Hilary of Poitiers and the Earliest Latin Hymns 19
IV Pope Damasus and the Beginning of Rhyme 35
V Ambrose 47
VI Prudentius, the First Christian Poet 63
VII Ennodius, Bishop of Pavia 73
VIII Caelius Sedulius and his Alphabet Hymn 83
IX Venantius Fortunatus the Troubadour 88
X Gregorius Magnus [540-604] 97
XI The Venerable Bede 109
XII Rabanus Maurus, Author of the “Veni, Creator” 114
XIII Notker of St. Gall, Called Balbulus 132
XIV Walafrid Strabo 143
XV Hermannus Contractus and the “Veni Sancte Spiritus” 149
XVI Peter Damiani, Cardinal and Flagellant 169
XVII Hildebert and his Hymn 179
XVIII Bernard of Clairvaux 186
XIX Abelard 194
XX Peter the Venerable 214
XXI Bernard of Cluny 222
XXII Adam of St. Victor 227
XXIII Thomas of Celano 240
XXIV Thomas Aquinas and John Bonaventura 255
XXV Jacoponus and the “Stabat Mater” 272
XXVI Thomas À Kempis 283
XXVII Francis Xavier, Missionary to the Indies (1506-52) 298
XXVIII The Hymn-Writers of the Breviary 316
XXIX The Unknown and the Less Known Hymn-Writers [Fourth to
Tenth Century] 347
XXX The Unknown and the Less Known Hymn-Writers [Tenth to
Sixteenth Century] 370
XXXI Latin Hymnology and Protestantism 401
XXXII BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES. 416
XXXIII Index to Translated Hymns 446
Appendix 485
Appendix I BERNARDI MORLANENSIS DE VANITATE MUNDI ET APPETITU
AETERNAE VITAE, LIBELLUS AUREOLUS. 485
Appendix II The Carmina Burana 495
Appendix III The Four Crazed Brothers 497
General Index 499
Index to Latin Hymns Quoted or Mentioned 507
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
Some months before the death of my true hearted friend, Rev. S. W.
Duffield, he wrote to express his wish that I should complete this work,
if he did not live to finish it. As I was not aware how grave, and even
hopeless, was his illness, I did not feel that I was undertaking a
serious responsibility in assenting to his wish. But his untimely death
brought to me the duty of discharging a wish which “the emphasis of
death” made imperative.
In our conferences over the book and its subject, which we had had for
three years past, I had come to appreciate Mr. Duffield’s ideas as to
its form and content, and read with much interest his preliminary
studies in the _Christian Intelligencer_, the _Sunday-School Times_, and
the _New Englander_. On coming into possession of his manuscript and
notes, I found that the greater part of the book had been carried almost
to the point of readiness for the printer, although several chapters had
not been written and all needed careful revision.
I have revised throughout the chapters Mr. Duffield left, but in doing
so I have been embarrassed by the very vitality and personal quality in
Mr. Duffield’s style. He reminds one of what Archdeacon Hare says of the
freshness and living force in a page of Luther’s. This has constrained
me to leave intact many a phrase or expression I should not have used,
but which was natural and even inevitable in him. It is my hope that I
have not sacrificed this admirable quality of his writing to any
pedantry of judgment.
The chapters on Pope Damasus (Chapter IV.) I have rewritten throughout.
That on Bernard of Cluny I have rearranged, but without much alteration.
That on Thomas of Celano I have rewritten to the top of page 252. That
on Hermann of Reichenau I should have liked to rewrite; but as I
dissented from some of its arguments, I feared to more than retouch it.
It stands as a monument of its author’s vehement conviction that in
Hermann he had found the true author of the _Veni Sancte Spiritus_.
The later chapters, from Thomas Aquinas, with the exception of those on
Jacoponus and Xavier, are the work of the editor alone. In preparing
them I have followed the author’s own plan for the book, except (1) in
treating of the less-known as well as the unknown hymn-writers in
Chapters XXX. and XXXI.; (2) in inserting a chapter on the relations of
Protestantism to Latin hymnology; and (3) in giving in the last chapter
only a selection from Mr. Duffield’s great _Index of the Latin Hymns_,
which I hope to see published complete in a separate book. Translations
not credited to any other person are the work of Mr. Duffield.
Mr. Duffield’s own idea of his book is well expressed in the
Introduction which follows this Preface. I give it as he left it,
although he had noted his purpose to prepare another which would cover
the ground more fully. It now remains to say something of the man
personally, and in this I am indebted much to the assistance of his
faithful coworker in his hymnological studies, Miss Lilian B. Day of
Bloomfield, who copied his great _Index of the Latin Hymns_, and who
prepared the indexes to both his _English Hymns_ and the present volume.
Samuel Augustus Willoughby Duffield was born at Brooklyn, on September
24th, 1843. His family was of French Huguenot extraction (Du Field), and
found a home in the North of Ireland after the Revocation of the Edict
of Nantes. Between 1725 and 1730 George Duffield, his ancestor by five
removes, settled in Lancaster County, as one of the great Ulster
emigration which was flowing into Pennsylvania. His son George graduated
at Princeton, and after several pastorates was settled in Philadelphia
in the Pine Street church. He was an ardent patriot, chaplain in
Washington’s army, and Bishop White’s associate in the chaplaincy of the
Continental Congress. Of two sons who survived him, one became a
minister, while the other took a prominent part in public life. His
grandson, Rev. George Duffield, D.D. (1796-1868) was a leader of the New
School division of the Presbyterian Church, both before and after the
separation of 1837, and while pastor at Carlisle was arraigned for
unsound teaching in his work on _Regeneration_. “Barnes, Beman, and
Duffield” were the three names most offensive to the Aristarchuses of
orthodoxy in that time. He was married to a sister of Dr. George W.
Bethune. His son, generally known in our times as Dr. George Duffield,
Jr., to distinguish him from his father, was born in 1818 at Carlisle,
graduated at Yale College in 1837, and at Union Theological Seminary.
One of his pastorates was in Brooklyn, from 1840 to 1847, during which
his son, Samuel Augustus Willoughby, was born. He is best known as a
hymn-writer, two of his hymns being known and loved wherever the English
language is spoken. They are, “Blessed Saviour, Thee I love,” and “Stand
up, stand up for Jesus,” the latter being suggested by the dying words
of Dudley Tyng in 1858.
Samuel W. Duffield was of the sixth American generation of his family.
From his youth he was a young giant, with an inborn love of active
sports, quick in movement, and apparently incapable of fatigue. His mind
showed equal vigor and freshness, and he early developed a passion for
poetry. By his tenth year he had mastered Chaucer, in spite of
difficulties much more serious to beginners in those days than in our
own. And he very early began to find expression for his own ideas in
verse. He united with the Church at the age of thirteen, when his father
was a pastor in Philadelphia, being the only one who did so at the time,
so that the act was the result of personal decision and not of a revival
excitement. He graduated at Yale in 1863; and after teaching for a
while, he began the study of theology under the care of his grandfather
and his father. Not until after he had been licensed to preach, and had
had charge of a mission in Chicago, did he present himself as a student
in Union Theological Seminary.
His first pastorate was from 1867 to 1870 at Tioga, one of the northern
suburbs of Philadelphia. As he frequently came to the office of the
_American Presbyterian_, on which I was assisting the late Dr. John W.
Mears, I then formed an acquaintance with him, which ripened into a
friendship that was to be lifelong, and I hope even longer. He was an
impressive figure, of more than the ordinary height, and yet so
massively built that he was seen to be tall only when beside another
person. His manner was cheerful, affectionate and buoyant, giving
evidence in various ways of his French descent. His character was
winning and attractive by its openness, and its entire freedom from
selfishness. He was a man out of whose heart the child never died, and
he carried the freshness of his boyhood’s years into the mature pursuits
of his manhood.
Our common love of poetry and our dawning interest in Latin hymnology—he
had translated Bernard of Cluny and was trying his hand on the _Dies
Irae_ in those days—drew us closer together and gave our friendship an
intellectual interest. When he left Tioga for Jersey City our
intercourse became more fragmentary, but during his pastorate at Ann
Arbor (1871-74) it was renewed by correspondence. He felt himself
especially at home in the university city of Michigan, with a
congregation composed largely of the students. Here he had the delight
of welcoming Dr. George Macdonald to his pulpit, when the poet visited
America in 1873. He worked hard to have me called to the Chair of
English Literature in the University of Michigan, but did not succeed.
Chicago, 1874, Auburn, 1876, Altoona, 1878, and Bloomfield, 1882, were
his subsequent pastorates; and in Bloomfield he remained until his
death. In this New Jersey suburb of New York City he seemed to find
himself especially at home. It was indeed the home of his early boyhood,
for his father had been pastor of the same church from 1847 to 1852; he
well remembered his playmates and schoolmates, and kept up his
acquaintance by correspondence and visits, until he came among them as
their pastor. He was near enough to the great city to find easy access
to its libraries, especially the Astor Library and that of Union
Seminary, and to enjoy the friendship of scholars of tastes similar to
his own, especially that of Dr. Charles S. Robinson. He found a
congenial people in his congregation. He took a lively interest in
matters relating to the welfare of the town, was an active member of the
Village Improvement Association, labored hard to establish a public
library, and helped to set on foot a good weekly paper. He became
Chaplain of the Fire Company, and preached a special sermon every year
to its members. He spoke always with enthusiasm of his new environment,
and seemed to look forward to many happy and useful years there. His
home life, I shall only say, was especially happy and helpful to him.
Among his delights was to watch the dawning powers of a daughter, who
inherits all her father’s poetic gifts.
His best poetical work is still unpublished, except such parts of it as
have appeared in the _Sunday-School Times_ and other weeklies. His first
venture was _The Heavenly Land, from the Rhythm of Bernard of Morlaix_
(New York, 1867). His second and most characteristic book was _Warp and
Woof: A Book of Verse_ (1868), in which “Undergraduate Orioles” and some
other pieces at once attracted attention by their felicitous beauty and
genuineness. Along with his father, he prepared _The Burial of the Dead_
(1882), a manual for use at funerals. In the long interval between these
two dates he was already laboring at his book on the Latin hymn-writers.
“During the years 1882-85,” writes Miss Day, “those of us who saw him
most frequently on his way to and from the New York libraries came to
recognize a large, square note-book and a green cloth bag as his
inseparable Monday companions. Something of their contents we knew, for
with his genial disposition he could not refrain from quoting snatches
of the old Latin hymns with translations into musical English. But no
one could appreciate the real worth of the knowledge concealed between
cloth and board as did the student himself, who had spent the hours of
leisure snatched from professional labors in the libraries, and among
Latin quartos and folios, in search of the materials for his book.
During the latter part of 1885 the Latin hymn-writers were laid aside
for a while to give time for his work on _English Hymns: Their Authors
and History_ (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1886),” which was suggested by
the appearance of Dr. Robinson’s _Laudes Domini_ in 1884, and is mainly
an account of the hymns included in that work, and of their authors.
When this was finished he returned to his _opus magnum_, in the
expectation of having it soon ready for the press. From our conferences
and correspondence I was led to hope for its early appearance. But this
was not to be. A failure of the vessels of the heart, evidently from
some constitutional weakness, as he had been making no special exertion
when it showed itself, was the beginning of the end. Twelve weary months
of illness, spent partly in Bloomfield and partly at a watering-place,
to which he had gone for change of air, were followed by his death on
May 12th, 1887. He died as he had lived, in the full assurance of the
Gospel, and looking for life everlasting in Jesus Christ.
The news of his death was received with grief by the whole community,
especially by the young people, with whom he had so lively a sympathy.
The Bloomfield Fire Company displayed their flag at half-mast, placed a
guard of honor over his remains during the forty hours they lay at the
church, and attended his funeral in a body. Signs of the general
mourning were seen everywhere, and the town felt it had lost a
public-spirited citizen, while his church had lost a faithful and
devoted pastor. Mingled with memoranda for his book, I find in his
note-books other indications of the breadth and energy of his work for
the spiritual and intellectual improvement of his people, especially
through his lectures before the Young People’s Society of the
Westminster Church.
In the city of the dead at Detroit, where his kindred lie buried, there
stands a memorial stone, which bears the inscription:
DILECTISSIMUS
EHEU PRAEMISSUS EST
QUANQUAM E VITAE INTEGRAE MEDIO
RAPTUS
AEVUM LONGISSIMUM PEREGIT
BEATO ILLI
PATER UXOR
MULTIS CUM LACRIMIS
HOC MARMOR
DEDICAVERE
Beside him lies now the mortal part of the much-loved father who wrote
these words. Dr. George Duffield the younger died July 6, 1888.
INTRODUCTION.
The study of the Latin hymns is so much a thing of its own kind that one
owes it to himself as well as to his readers to begin at the beginning.
This beginning in the present instance happened to be on the North
River, on a bright, fresh April morning in the year of grace 1882. It
was at that time, with the clear sky overhead and the hearty breeze
coming full in our faces from the Narrows, that my friend, the Rev. F.
N. Zabriskie, D.D., broached the following proposition:
It was, he said, a matter of great surprise to him that no one had done
for the Latin hymn-writers what had been done for those of later date.
We had their hymns, but for his part he confessed to a love for the
personality of the poets themselves, and for the circumstances which
conspired to produce their poems. Now, if it seemed good to myself, who
had already given time and study to the hymns, he would gladly open the
columns of the _Christian Intelligencer_ (the organ of the Reformed
Church in America) to a series of articles bearing such a character. And
there and then the book began.
But my original ideas modified greatly as I went on. In place of my
mastering the subject, the subject mastered me. My previous studies went
for but very little, and my confidence in my ability to prepare the
articles without taking much time from regular and important duties
diminished with every number. I found myself on new ground and was
perpetually referred back to the original authorities. French and German
and Latin—I had to investigate them all in order to satisfy that
insatiate creature, a scholar’s conscience. I discovered that, except
for rare and slight notices, this sort of work had neither been done nor
was likely to be done, and conferences with our best hymnologists only
made me more interested in doing it, and doing it as well as I could.
Doubtless those whose specialities lie in mediaeval days will find much
to criticise, but no one can be a severer critic than myself according
to my means of information.
These chapters, like this Introduction, will be found to be written in
the American language. Their purpose is to reach the popular desire for
better knowledge, and it would be absurd to offer these facts in any dry
or pedantic style. Yet the scholar and the hymnologist will both find
that a positive value and a careful accuracy attach to the work that has
been done. I found I could take nothing for granted, and I took nothing
for granted. Even the Archbishop of Dublin and the principal of
Sackville College have their idiosyncrasies and predilections, and a
quite easy way of writing on these topics is to copy what has been said
already. A very notable case to the contrary is Lord Selborne’s splendid
article on “Hymns” in the new _Encyclopaedia Britannica_.
Therefore life and song and color are not absent, I trust, from these
pages. I should not like to give all the authorities consulted or
rummaged through; for, indeed, I have kept no record of them. Like the
famous sun-dial I have registered none but the serene hours, and many a
time the scarce and long-sought volume before me has been jejune enough.
While, on the other hand, a book like Morison’s _Life of St. Bernard_
has turned out to be precisely the help I was seeking, bright in its
style and careful and original in its researches. I have verified its
quotations too often not to pay it at least this faint tribute of
approval.
It would be also beyond measure ungrateful in me if I did not here
acknowledge the kindnesses I have received in this quest after the
Sangreal of a true psalmody. Let me name, then, the Astor Library. Its
superintendent, Mr. Little, and its librarians, Mr. Frederick Saunders
(author of _Evenings with the Sacred Poets_), and his assistant, Mr.
Bierstadt, have been uniformly courteous and obliging. So has been the
Rev. Professor Charles A. Briggs, D.D., in whose care is the fine
theological library of Union Seminary. So have been the authorities of
the Society Library (New York), and of the Philadelphia Library, and of
the Boston Athenaeum and Public libraries.
Personally, I am deeply indebted to the culture and friendship of Miss
Marion L. Pelton, Assistant Professor of Literature in Wellesley
College, who has made for me many valuable notes; and to the assistance
and counsel of Professor F. A. March, LL.D., Professor F. M. Bird,
Professor Philip Schaff, D.D., and Judge W. H. Arnoux.
It will be readily seen that I have not concerned myself with the matter
of the host of English translations, or with that of the comparison and
criticism of the text of the hymns. These branches of hymnology are in a
scientific sense the most valuable, but in a popular sense they are the
least interesting. And I could not hope to rival, far less to equal,
such illustrious scholarship as that of Daniel or Mone. I have therefore
been content to pipe to a lesser reed, and in a more familiar and
gossiping way to attempt the history of the hymns. And for the rest I
can only add what Master Robert Burton saith in his _Anatomy of
Melancholy_: “If through weakness, folly, passion, ignorance, I have
said amiss, let it be forgotten and forgiven.... I earnestly request
every private man, as Scaliger did Cardan, not to take offence.... If
thou knewest my modesty and simplicity, thou wouldest easily pardon and
forgive what is here amiss, or by thee misconceived.”
Samuel Willoughby Duffield.
Bloomfield, N. J., U. S. A.
LATIN HYMNS.
CHAPTER I.
THE PRAISE SERVICE OF THE EARLY CHURCH.
When our Lord and His disciples “had sung an hymn” they left the place
where they had observed the passover, and went out to the Mount of
Olives. This hymn was the “Great Hallel,” consisting of Psalms 113 to
118 inclusive. The 113th and 114th were sung previous to the feast; the
others, after it. We thus know, with singular accuracy, what was the
first hymn of praise in the Christian Church. The essence of this
“Hallel” is the essence of all true psalmody—trust and thanksgiving and
praise.
It may be said, and with truth, that the _Magnificat_ of Mary, the _Nunc
Dimittis_ of old Simeon, and, above all, that the _Gloria in Excelsis
Deo_ of the angels at Bethlehem, antedate this hymn of our Lord and His
apostles. It may also be said, and with the same truth, that these
furnished to the early Christians their earliest expressions of praise.
But it appears that the Last Supper, with its pathetic union of Jewish
and Christian ideas, was also the place at which the Psalms of David and
the spiritual songs of primitive Christianity were united. The thought
that this reveals is larger than these limits will permit us to discuss.
It is in brief that as Jesus Christ came, “not to destroy, but to
fulfil,” He designed to show to His Church that gratitude, love, trust,
and adoration were to be combined in all future psalmody. The _t’hillim_
of the Jew were to become the _hymni_ of the Christian.
The noticeable fact remains that the early Church only caught the
simplest and most fervent forms of this worship. Their pure veneration
of the Lord led Pliny to write (Ep. 10:97) that they “sung alternately
among themselves a hymn to Christ as God”—_carmen Christo quasi Deo,
dicere secum invicem_. It is this loving devotion which charms us as we
read those verses which have been preserved. For the most part the
subjects are limited. We could naturally expect that, being largely
drawn from Jewish sources, they would express gratitude and
adoration—and this is correct. Chrysostom declared that the early
Christians sung at prayers in the morning, at their work, and very
usually at their meals. Jerome, writing to Marcellus, says—and we quote
Cave’s translation for its quaintness—“You could not go into the field
but you might hear the _Ploughman_ at his _Hallelujahs_, the _Mower_ at
his _Hymns_, and the _Vine-dresser_ singing _David’s Psalms_.” In fact,
Christian song was a notable feature of primitive Christianity.
The language of these hymns was either Syriac or Greek. By degrees the
Greek obtained the precedence; and as the Latin hymns did not arise
until Hilary of Poitiers (fourth century), the period between the
Ascension and that era belongs to the Greek language rather more than to
any other. We also know from the New Testament writers some very
important facts, which may properly be classified at this point.
1. There were three terms for the sacred song. It might be a _psalm_, or
a _hymn_, or a _spiritual song_, as we discover from Ephesians 5:19 and
Colossians 3:16.
2. From 1 Corinthians 14:23-33, it seems plain that the composition, as
well as the singing of these hymns and songs, might be the result of
sudden emotion or inspiration. In any case, there is no doubt (for
Tertullian decisively states it) that the “extempore,” or, more
strictly, “private” authorship of such psalmody was not uncommon. The
council of Laodicea (_circa_ A.D. 360) interdicted private persons from
this privilege. Even in Paul’s time it would appear to have produced an
effect akin to the “spirituals” of our own freedmen—much of it being
exquisite in its simple devotion, while a certain share offended good
taste, and hindered the propriety and solemnity of worship.
3. The alternation of prayer with praise was never better illustrated
than when Paul and Silas (Acts 16:25) sent up their midnight anthems
from that “inner prison,” while their feet were “made fast in the
stocks.” This alternation was—as the Fathers assure us—the order in
public worship also.
4. We have received in the very pages of the New Testament some of these
earliest hymns. To say nothing, at present, of those great leading
chants which bear the names of the angels, and of Mary, and of
Zacharias, and of Simeon—and to pass over all those of Jewish origin—we
have still left us such a strain as that in Acts 4:24-30. Here we have
an impulse which expresses itself in reply to Peter and John by sacred
song.
Ephesians 5:14 has also been considered to be such a fragment:
“Awake, O thou that sleepest!
Arouse thee from the dead!
And Christ shall give to thee
Enlightenment!”
So too 1 Timothy 3:16 has been arranged by some scholars as though it
were a well-known strophe the Apostle quoted:
“Who—for the mystery is great—
Was manifest in body,
Was justified in spirit,
Was visible to angels,
Was heralded to heathen,
Was trusted on the earth,
Was taken up to glory.”
Nor is this the only instance in this very Epistle, for 1 Timothy 6:15,
16, reads:
“The king of all the kingly ones,
The lord of all the lordly ones,
Who only hath the power of life immortal;
Inhabiting the unapproachable light;
Whom never any one of men hath seen,
Nor ever can behold;
Let glory and eternal strength be his!
Amen!”
5. When, now, we complete our New Testament mention of this praise—which
clings like incense to the temple-curtains and sweetly perfumes the
place—we have only to add the earliest received anthems. These are the
_Magnificat_ (Luke 1:46-55); the _Benedictus_ (Luke 1:68-79); the
_Gloria in Excelsis Deo_ (Luke 2:18); and the _Nunc Dimittis_ (Luke
2:29-32). It will be observed that all these are derived from a single
gospel, wherein, more than in any other, the “sweet, sad music of
humanity” can most readily be found. It is natural, too, that the
painter and physician, Luke, should have a poetic ear which could
catch—as in the Acts of the Apostles—this faintest and earliest praise.
There were, indeed, in the primitive church, eight of these classic
expressions of worship. These are:
(1) The Lesser Doxology (_Gloria Patri_),
“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.”
(2) The Greater Doxology (_Gloria in Excelsis_),
“Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace,” etc.
[This was also called the Angelical Hymn.]
(3) The _Ter Sanctus_ (the cherubical hymn),
“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.”
(4) The Hallelujah.
[This “Alleluia, Amen!” was the response of the church.]
(5) The Evening Hymn (containing the _Nunc Dimittis_).
(6) The _Benedicite_.
[The “Song of the Three Children,” which is taken from the
Apocrypha, and which appears in the service of the Episcopal
Church (Order for Morning Prayer) as, “O all ye works of the
Lord,” etc.]
(7) The _Magnificat_.
[Named—as these are all named—from the first word of the Latin
Vulgate version.]
(8) The _Te Deum_,
“We praise Thee, O God, we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord,” etc.
We can feel quite sure that the Latin Church merely borrowed these hymns
from the earliest forms of the Greek. The _Te Deum_ was probably
translated from that language, either by Hilary of Poitiers or by an
unknown author of that date. It is, undoubtedly, a close rendering of
many phrases and expressions which are common to the Greek hymns, and,
if the learned hymnologist H. A. Daniel is to be credited (_Thesaurus
Hymnologicus II._ 289), it is a real and literal translation of an
actual chant of praise of great antiquity. His words are these: “To give
you my opinion briefly, the _Te Deum_, equally with the Angelic Hymn (to
which it is very similar in form and expression), was born in the
Eastern Church, whence it has been translated into the Latin tongue.” He
then proceeds to cite an ancient Greek hymn, five lines of which are
exact with the Latin.
In 2 Timothy 2:11-13 the “faithful saying” has been interpreted to be a
similar quotation from one of these ancient hymns:
“For if we are dead together,
We shall live together;
If we serve together,
We shall reign together;
If we should deny Him,
He will deny us too;
If we should be faithless,
He is faithful still.”
It does not, of course, absolutely follow that these are really such
fragments of hymns as scholars have supposed. The late Dr. Lyman
Coleman—a man of great practical good judgment—comments upon these
citations thus:
“The argument is not conclusive; and all the learned criticism, the
talent, and the taste, that have been employed on this point, leave us
little else than uncertain conjecture on which to build an hypothesis.”
(_Primitive Church_, p. 366.) Yet the latest scholarship tends so
strongly in this direction, and the internal evidence is so good and
fair, that it may be regarded as pretty well affirmed and accepted. No
one, for example, would think of comparing such passages as these with
the antithetic prose of Romans 3:21-23; or with the magnificent
unrhythmic utterance in Romans 8:38, 39; or with the careful
particularity of 2 Corinthians 6:4-10. They are seen and felt to be
different both in tone and in form.
In the Apocalypse, where the language is naturally exalted and poetic,
several such instances have been noted. They are: Revelation 1:4-8; 5:9,
10, 12-14; 11:15, 17, 18; 15:3, 4; 21:10-14, and 22:17. Of one of
these—the “Song of Moses and of the Lamb”—we may be reasonably certain:
“Great are Thy works and strange,
Lord God, Thou Ruler of all!
And just are Thy ways, and true,
Thou King of the nations of earth.
For who shall not fear Thee, Lord,
And give to Thy name the praise,
For holy art Thou alone!—
To Thee shall the nations come
And worship before Thy face;
For all of Thy righteous acts
Shall then be openly known!”
In the same manner may be written the stanza from Revelation 22:17:
“And the Spirit and the Bride—
Are saying, ‘Come!’
And he that heareth—
Let him say, ‘Come!’
And he that thirsteth—
Let him come!
And he that willeth—
Let him receive,
Freely, the water of life!”
We have also a positive acquaintance with the order of religious worship
in the early Church, dating back one hardly knows how far, but
definitely leading us into the custom of the first three centuries.
Public services began, and were continued, as follows:
First, _Prayer_—or, possibly, a _Salutation_ or _Invocation_, such as is
in common use to-day.
Then the _Reading of Scripture_. The Old Testament and New Testament
were both employed: the one being expounded to apply to the case of the
Christian Church; and the other for her comfort, encouragement, and
edification.
Then followed the _Hymns_ and _Psalms_. The distinction appears to have
been that the _psalms_ were those of David; the _hymns_, such as the
song of Mary, or of the angels; and the _spiritual songs_, such as were
composed by private persons, or which sprang up spontaneously in a kind
of chant. That this was liable to abuse, and might cause confusion, is
made evident by Paul’s advice to the Corinthians. Between these acts of
praise was interpolated some brief Scripture lesson. And, very likely, a
considerable portion of time was taken up by this part of the service.
Then came the _Sermon_, which was succeeded by a _Prayer_.
Another question now meets us, and one of some importance: Did the early
Christians employ any musical instruments? In reply, it can be noted
that ψάλλειν, “to make melody” (Eph.5:19), is usually taken to refer to
a musical accompaniment. In Romans 15:9 it is a quotation from Psalm
18:50, where it means, “I will _sing psalms_.” In 1 Corinthians 15:15
(“I will _sing_ with the spirit, and I will _sing_ with the
understanding also”) and in James 5:13 (“Is any merry? let him _sing
psalms_”) we have nothing decisive except that we know that the Jewish
method of “singing psalms” was to the accompaniment of musical
instruments. Thus, with all these texts before us, we are not able
either to affirm or deny the fact. The reference of Paul (1 Cor. 14:7)
to the _pipe_ (αυλός, flute) and _harp_ (κιθάρα, lute) gives us no
assistance. The “harp” of Revelation 5:8, 14:2, and 15:2, is the cithara
or _lute_ again; but neither does this tell us what the early Christians
did or did not do. The inference is pretty strong that they avoided some
things that were Jewish—and instrumental music was a marked feature in
the Jew’s worship—but it is plain that (as with the Sabbath question)
there was a great deal of blending at the edges between the two
dispensations. We are told, moreover, that the Syriac Church has always
been rich in tunes, having fully two hundred and seventy-five, while the
Greek was confined to about eight.
There is another fact which comes in just here, however, to explain what
we would otherwise find it hard to unriddle. It is the matter of the
very language of the hymns themselves.
When we observe the places where these fragments occur, or where singing
in the church is mentioned, we find that the language naturally is
Greek. No one doubts that Luke and the other New Testament writers
employed the tongue which was the educated and flexible medium of
conveying the loftiest truth; nor that Ephesians or Corinthians chanted
in Greek. “The Greek tongue,” say Conybeare and Howson (_St. Paul_,
1:10), “became to the Christian more than it had been to the Roman or
the Jew.” It lends itself most readily to that dithyrambic shape in
which highly emotional natures could best express their praise. So the
irregularity of the verse; its utter lack of metrical form (as Dr. Neale
found when he examined eighteen quarto volumes of it), and its
simplicity of diction, all combined to put the instrumental
accompaniment aside. Perhaps there was a prejudice—as Archbishop Trench
affirms—against a distinctively Jewish method. Perhaps there was a
disposition in this, as in other matters where art had perverted the
morals of men, to oppose whatever looked toward a possible laxity. Music
and banqueting, music and luxury, music and profligacy, went together so
much that the early Church reacted to the extreme of
Puritanism—forgetting that her Lord and Master had often worshipped in
the full-choired temple itself. In the catacombs, where every manner of
ordinary symbol may be found, there is neither pipe nor harp, nor any
sort of musical instrument—the lyre alone excepted. But neither is there
any condescension to beauty in form or color. Everything betokens a
rude, uncultivated simplicity—a piety which contented itself with the
barest and meagerest representations. It rose high enough to portray the
face of Christ, in the ancient cemetery of Domitilla, and in one carving
on a sarcophagus of the fourth century. And, remembering how repugnant
anything heathenish was to the souls of those who associated pipe and
tabret and harp with the bloody arena and the wild revelry of Rome, can
we doubt why they mingled only their unassisted voices in these chants
of praise? It can be positively added that Ambrose, Basil, and
Chrysostom do not include _instrumental_ music in their eulogies of the
Church’s practice upon this theme.
We are justified, however, in going one step beyond this bald statement,
that the early Christians _sang_ together. They sang _secum invicem_,
alternately. The quotations already given show the adaptation of their
hymns to this use. In this, at least, they were following the Jewish
habit of responses and part-singing, whatever other changes their
poverty or prejudices or principles or persecutions might have produced.
It remains for us to speak of the ancient hymns which have come down to
our day. We have some information as to Harmonius and Bardesanes, who
wrote Syriac hymns in the first century, but the hymns themselves are
either lost or unidentified. Ephrem Syrus (died 378) furnishes the
earliest authentic hymns in that language. One of these (Daniel,
_Thesaurus Hymnologicus_, III. 145) is on the Nativity of our Lord, and
may be thus rendered, following Zingerle’s German version:
“Into his arms with tender love
Did Joseph take his holy son,
And worshipped him as God, and saw
The babe like any little one.
His heart rejoiced above him there,
For now the only Good had birth;
And pious fear upon him came
Before this Judge of all the earth.
Oh, what a lofty wonder!
“Who gave me then this precious Son
Of highest God, to be my child?
For I against thy mother here
Had almost been by zeal beguiled;
And I had thought to cast her off—
Alas, I saw not truly then
How in her bosom she should bear
The costliest treasure known to men,
To make my poverty, so soon,
The richest lot in mortal ken!
“David, that king of ancient days,
My ancestor, had placed the crown
On his own head, and there it lay;
But I sank deep and further down:
I was no king, but in its stead
A carpenter, and that alone.
But now may crown my brow again
That which befits a kingly throne,
For here upon my bosom lies
The Lord of lords, my very own!”
There is a trifle of doubt as to which is the very oldest Greek hymn.
One cited by Basil (died 379),
“Φῶς ἱλαρὸν ἁγίας δοξής”—κ. τ. λ.
has been by some considered the most ancient, and is known to us as,
“Hail, gladdening Light.” It is wrongly credited to Athenagenes (died
169), for Basil explicitly denies that authorship. That which it is
safest for us to receive is one found in the works of Clement of
Alexandria, and by him ascribed to an earlier author. It was probably
composed about 200 A.D.; and while it is too long to quote, it may be
characterized as dithyrambic, and almost Anacreontic, in rhythm. It
begins:
“Στροµίον πώλων ἀδαῶν.”—κ. τ. λ.
and is known as “Shepherd of Tender Youth,” from its best English
version, by the Rev. Dr. H. M. Dexter, of Boston. The Φῶς ἱλαρὸν is also
accessible in Longfellow’s beautiful translation in the Golden Legend,
commencing, “O gladsome light.”
As we turn the pages on which Daniel and Mone have recorded these hymns
of the earliest age of the Church, we observe that they are either in
praise of Christ or of God, or are songs of worship for the morning or
the evening. Their simplicity is admirable. Here is one called ἦχος—an
“Echo”—literally rendered:
“We who have risen from our sleep
Worship before thee, O Good One.
And, of the angels the hymn
We cry aloud to thee, thou Mighty One;
Holy, holy art thou, O God,
And of thy mercy have pity on us!
“From my couch and from my sleep
Thou hast raised me, O Lord;
Enlighten my mind and my heart,
And open thou my lips
To praise thee, Holy Trinity,
Holy, holy, holy art thou!
“Suddenly shall come the Judge,
And the deeds of each shall be laid bare;
But guard us from fear in the midst of the night,
Holy, holy, holy art thou!”
Another of these unplaced, anonymous, and possibly very ancient hymns,
may be given in full for comparison:
“Ψυχή µου, ψυχή µου,
Ἀνάστα, τί καθεύδεις;
Τὸ τέλος ἐγγίζει,
Καὶ µήλλεις θορυβεῖσθαι;
“Ἀνάνηψον ὀυν, ἵνα
Φείσηται σου Χριστὸς
Ὁ Θεὸς, ὁ πανταχοῦ παρὼν
Καὶ τὰ πάντα πληρῶν.”
“O soul of mine, O soul of mine,
Arise, why sleepest thou?
The end of earth is drawing near
And art thou fearful now?
Be sober therefore, O my soul,
That He who filleth space
And filleth time, our Saviour, God,
May spare thee by His grace.”
And this beautiful little doxology:
“My hope is God,
My refuge is the Lord,
My shelter is the Holy Ghost;
Be thou, O Holy Three, adored!”
In such sweet and simple language did the early Christians sing their
“praise to Christ, as God.” They understood the true meaning of a hymn
as Ambrose and St. Bernard also understood it—and as Gregory Nazianzen
and Adam of St. Victor never knew it at all. In 1866 Professor Coppée
could truly declare that there was no collection of sacred verse in
which this thought of adoration and of worship was “the leading
feature.” It is better now; but even to-day there is an honored place
for any book of praise in which the formal and didactic shall be done
away, and where nothing shall be found but the pure reverence of a
loving and trusting soul.
Of old, in the temple, there was kept—said the rabbins—a flute of reed,
plain and straight and simple, but of marvellous sweetness. It came down
from Moses’ day. But the king commanded his goldsmiths to cover and
adorn it with gold and gems. And, lo, the sweetness of the reed flute
was forever gone! Thus, perchance, in our later art and our foolish
wisdom, it may be we have often spoiled the ancient hymns!