The Psalm-Book of the Pilgrims.
We read in "The Courtship of Miles Standish," of the fair Priscilla, when
John Alden came to woo her for his friend, the warlike little captain, that
"Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth,
Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music together; Rough-hewn,
angular notes, like stones in the wall of a churchyard, Darkened and
overhung by the running vine of the verses. Such was the book from
whose pages she sang the old Puritan anthem."
One of these "well-worn psalm-books of Ainsworth" lies now before me,
perhaps the very one from which the lonely Priscilla sang as she sat
a-spinning.
There is something especially dear to the lover and dreamer of the olden
time, to the book-lover and antiquary as well, in an old, worn psalm or
hymn book. It speaks quite as eloquently as does an old Bible of loving
daily use, and adds the charm of interest in the quaint verse to reverence
for the sacred word. A world of tender fancies springs into life as I turn
over the pages of any old psalm-book "reading between the lines," and as
I decipher the faded script on the titlepage. But this "psalm-book of
Ainsworth," this book loved and used by the Pilgrims, brought over in one
of those early ships, perhaps in the "Mayflower" itself, this book so
symbolic of those early struggling days in New England, has a romance, a
charm, an interest which thrills every drop of Puritan blood in my veins.
It is pleasing, too, this "Ainsworth's Version," aside from any thought of
its historic associations; its square pages of diversified type are well
printed, and have a quaint unfamiliar look which is intensely attractive,
and to which the odd, irregular notes of music, the curiously ornamented
head and tail pieces, and the occasional Hebrew or Greek letters add their
undefinable charm.
It is a square quarto of three hundred and forty-eight closely printed
pages, bound in time-stained but well-preserved parchment, and even the
parchment itself is interesting, and lovely to the touch. The titlepage is
missing, but I know that this is the edition printed, as was Priscilla's,
in Amsterdam in 1612 (not "in England in 1600" as a note written in the
last blank page states). The full title was "The Book of Psalms. Englished
both in Prose and Metre. With annotations opening the words and sentences
by conference with other Scriptures. Eph. v: 18,19. Bee yee filled with
the Spirit speaking to yourselves in Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual-Songs
singing and making melodie in your hearts to the Lord." The book contains
besides the Psalms and Annotations, on its first pages, a "Preface
declaring the reason and use of the Book;" and at the last pages a "Table
directing to some principal things observed in the Annotations of the
Psalms," a list of "Hebrew phrases observed which are somewhat hard and
figurative," and also some "General Observations touching the Psalms."
I can well imagine what a pious delight this book was to our Pilgrim
Fathers; and what a still greater delight it was to our Pilgrim Mothers,
in that day and country of few books. They possessed in it, not only a
wonderful new metrical version of the Psalms for singing, but a prose
version for comparison as well; and the deeply learned and profoundly
worded annotations placed at the end of each Psalm were doubtless of
special interest to such "scripturists with all their hearts" as they were.
There were also, "for the use and edification of the saints," printed above
each psalm the airs of appropriate tunes. The "rough-hewn, angular notes"
are irregularly lozenge-shaped, like the notes or "pricks" in Queen
Elizabeth's "Virginal-Book," and are placed on the staff without bars.
Ainsworth, in his preface, says, "Tunes for the Psalms I find none set of
God: so that ech people is to use the most grave decent and comfortable
manner that they know how, according to the general rule. The singing notes
I have most taken from our Englished psalms when they will fit the mesure
of the verse: and for the other long verses I have also taken (for the most
part) the gravest and easiest tunes of the French and Dutch psalmes." Easy
the tunes certainly are, to the utmost degree of simplicity.
Great diversity too of type did the Pilgrims find in their Psalm-book:
Roman type, Italics, black-letter, all were used; the verse was printed in
Italics, the prose in Roman type, and the annotation in black-letter and
small Roman text with close-spaced lines. This variety though picturesque
makes the text rather difficult to read; for while one can decipher
black-letter readily enough when reading whole pages of it, when it is
interspersed with other type it makes the print somewhat confusing to the
unaccustomed eye.
One curious characteristic of the typography is the frequent use of the
hyphen, compound words or rather compound phrases being formed apparently
without English rule or reason. Such combinations as these are given as
instances: "highly-him-preferre," "renowned-name," "repose-me-quietlie,"
"in-mind-uplay," "turn-to-ashes," "my-alonely-soul," "beat-them-final,"
"pouring-out-them-hard," "inveyers-mak-streight," and
"condemn-thou-them-as-guilty,"--which certainly would make fit verses to
be sung to the accompaniment of Master Mace's
"excellent-large-plump-lusty-fullspeaking-organ."
Ainsworth's Version when read proves to be a scholarly book, exhibiting far
better grammar and punctuation and more uniformity of spelling than "The
New England Psalm-book," which at a later date displaced Ainsworth in the
affections and religious services of the New England Puritans and Pilgrims.
Both versions are somewhat confused in sense, and of uncouth and grotesque
versification; though the metre of Ainsworth is better than the rhyme. It
is all written in "common metre," nearly all in lines of eight and six
syllables alternately.
The name of the author of this version was Henry Ainsworth; he was the
greatest of all the Holland Separatists, a typical Elizabethan Puritan,
who left the church in which he was educated and attached himself to the
Separatists, or Brownists, as they were called. He went into exile in
Amsterdam in 1593, and worked for some time as a porter in a book-seller's
shop, living (as Roger Williams wrote) "upon ninepence in the weeke with
roots boyled." He established, with the Reverend Mr. Johnson, the new
church in Holland; and when it was divided by dissension, he became the
pastor of the "Ainsworthian Brownists" and so remained for twelve years.
He was a most accomplished scholar, and was called the "rabbi of his age."
Governor Bradford, in his "Dialogue," written in 1648, says of Ainsworth,
"He had not his better for the Hebrew tongue in the University nor scarce
in Europe." Hence, naturally, he was constantly engaged upon some work of
translating or commentating, and still so highly prized is some of his work
that it has been reprinted during this century. He also, being a skilful
disputant, wrote innumerable controversial pamphlets and books, many
of which still exist. It is said that he once had a long and spirited
controversy with a brother divine as to whether the ephod of Aaron were
blue or green. I fear we of to-day have lost much that the final, decisive
judgment from so learned scholars and students as to the correct color has
not descended to us, and now, if we wish to know, we shall have to fight it
all over again.
In spite of his power of argument (or perhaps on account of it) the most
prominent part which Ainsworth seemed to take in Amsterdam for many years
was that of peacemaker, as many of his contemporaries testify: for they
quarrelled fiercely among themselves in the exiled church, though they
had such sore need of unity and good fellowship; and they had many church
arguments and judgments and lawsuits. They quarrelled over the exercise of
power in the church; over the true meaning of the text Matthew xviii. 17;
whether the members of the congregation should be allowed to look on their
Bibles during the preaching or on their Psalm-books during the singing;
whether they should sing at all in their meetings; over the power of the
office of ruling elder (a fruitful source of dissension and disruption in
the New England congregations likewise) and above all, they quarrelled long
and bitterly over the unseemly and gay dress of the parson's wife, Madam
Johnson. These were the terrible accusations that were brought against that
bedizened Puritan: that she wore "her bodies tied to the petticote with
points as men do their doublets and hose; contrary to I Thess. v: 22,
conferred with Deut. xx: 11;" that she also wore "lawn coives," and
"busks," and "whalebones in the petticote bodies," and a "veluet hoode,"
and a "long white brest;" and that she "stood gazing bracing and vaunting
in the shop dores;" and that "men called her a bounceing girl" (as if
she could help that!). And one of her worst and most bitterly condemned
offences was that she wore "a topish hat." This her husband vehemently
denied; and long discussions and explanations followed on the hat's
topishness,--"Mr. Ainsworth dilating much upon a greeke worde" (as of
course so learned a man would). For the benefit of unlearned modern
children of the Puritans let me give the old Puritan's precise explanation
and classification of topishness. "Though veluet in its nature were not
topish, yet if common mariners should weare such it would be a sign of
pride and topishness in them. Also a gilded raper and a feather are not
topish in their nature, neither in a captain to weare them, and yet if a
minister should weare them they would be signs of great vanity topishness
and lightness." I wonder that topish hat had not undone the whole Puritan
church in Holland.
In settling all these and many other disputes, in translating,
commentating, and versifying, did Henry Ainsworth pass his days; until,
worn out by hard labor, and succumbing to long continued weakness, he died
in 1623. This romantic story of his death is told by Neal. "It was sudden
and not without suspicion of violence; for it is reported that, having
found a diamond of very great value in the streets of Amsterdam, he
advertised it in print; and when the owner, who was a Jew, came to demand
it, he offered him any acknowledgment he would desire, but Ainsworth though
poor would accept of nothing but conference with some of his rabbis upon
the prophecies of the Old Testament relating to the Messiah, which the
other promised, but not having interest enough to obtain it he was
poisoned." This rather ambiguous sentence means that Ainsworth was
poisoned, not the Jew. Brooks's account of the story is that the conference
took place, the Jews were vanquished, and in revenge poisoned the champion
of Christianity afterwards. Dexter most unromantically throws cold water on
this poisoning story, and adduces much circumstantial testimony to prove
its improbability; but it could hardly have been invented in cold blood by
the Puritan historians, and must have had some foundation in truth. And
since he is dead, and the thought cannot harm him, I may acknowledge that I
firmly believe and I like to believe that he died in so romantic a way.
The Puritans were psalm-singers ever; and in Holland the Brownist division
of the church came under strong influences from Geneva and Wittenberg, the
birth-places of psalm-singing, that made them doubly fond of "worship in
song." Hence the Pilgrim Fathers, Brewster, Bradford, Carver, and Standish,
for love of music as well as in affectionate testimony to their old pastor
and friend, brought to the New World copies of his version of the Psalms
and sang from it with delight and profit to themselves, if not with ease
and elegance.
Dexter says very mildly of Ainsworth's literary work that "there are
diversities of gifts, and it is no offence to his memory to conclude that
he shone more as an exegete than as a poet." Poesy is a gift of the gods
and cometh not from deep Hebrew study nor from vast learning, and we must
accept Ainsworth's pious enthusiasm in the place of poetic fervor. Of the
quality of his work, however, it is best to judge for one's self. Here is
his rendition of the Nineteenth Psalm, so well known to us in verse by
Addison's glorious "The spacious firmament on high." The prose version is
printed in one column and the verse by its side.