My Saviour, whom absent I love,
Whom, not having seen, I adore;
Whose name is exalted above
All glory, dominion, and power;
Dissolve Thou these bonds that detain
My soul from her portion in Thee,
Ah! strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.
Oh then shall the veil be removed,
And round me Thy brightness be poured,
I shall meet Him whom absent I loved,
I shall see Him whom unseen I adored.
Newton’s contribution to the Olney hymns is considerable both in
quality and quantity. His preface disarms criticism.
Dr. Watts might, as a poet, have a right to say, ‘That it cost him
some labour to restrain his fire, and to accommodate himself to the
capacities of common readers.’ But it would not become me to make
such a declaration. It behoved me to do my best.... If the Lord,
whom I serve, has been pleased to favour me with that mediocrity of
talent, which may qualify me for usefulness to the weak and the poor
of His flock, without quite disgusting persons of superior
discernment, I have reason to be satisfied.
It is quite refreshing to find a hymn-writer who describes himself
thus. They have often been modest men and women, but have had a fairly
good idea of the value of their own compositions.
Newton’s hymns are, even more than those of Watts or Doddridge,
pastoral hymns. Other men wrote for the congregation, he wrote for his
own particular congregation, and very often with a special reference
to one member of it. We know that his sermons were suggested in this
way. If ‘Sir Cowper’ had a bad fit, or the Vicarage maid, Molly, was
‘perplexed and tempted on the point of election,’ the kind-hearted
pastor had a sermon and a hymn, suited to their ‘state,’ ready on
Sunday.
Many of Newton’s pieces express much more of Cowper’s experience than
of his own. In such lines as the following is not his eye upon the sad
figure in ‘the poet’s corner’ in the Great House?
Sure the Lord thus far has brought me
By His watchful tender care,
Sure ’tis He Himself has taught me
How to seek His face by prayer:
After so much mercy past,
Will He give me up at last?
In my Saviour’s intercession
Therefore I will still confide!
Lord, accept my free confession,
I have sinned, but Thou hast died:
This is all I have to plead,
This is all the plea I need.
That is what he has to say of ‘Confidence’ from Cowper’s point of
view. When he speaks for himself he adopts a different tone.
Oh! I tremble still to think
How secure I lived in sin;
Sporting on destruction’s brink,
Yet preserved from falling in.
Come, my fellow-sinners, try,
Jesu’s heart is full of love!
Oh that you, as well as I,
May His wondrous mercy prove.
He has sent me to declare,
All is ready, all is free:
Why should any soul despair
When He saved a wretch like me?
Perhaps it was with Cowper in his mind he wrote that beautiful and
touching hymn for private devotion, which has been often most unjustly
censured—‘’Tis a point I long to know.’ Newton, like Bunyan, knew how
sincere a pilgrim Mr. Little Faith was, and each in his own way sought
to comfort him. There is good robust common sense in the prayer of the
last two verses. In strength and beauty it does not compare with
Cowper’s hymn on the same text, ‘Lovest thou Me?’ which Mr. Gladstone
reckoned one of the three greatest English hymns; but it belongs to
the Christian treasury, and has brought help to many.
Lord, decide the doubtful case,
Thou who art Thy people’s sun,
Shine upon the work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.
Let me love Thee more and more,
If I love at all, I pray;
If I have not loved before,
Help me to begin to-day.
The tenderness of ‘the old African blasphemer’s’ heart is nowhere more
touchingly illustrated than in his version of Isa. liv. 5-11, which
must surely have been written for Cowper, since it quotes and
emphasizes the words of his own great hymn. It has five eight-line
verses, and is headed ‘To the Afflicted, Tossed with Tempest, and not
Comforted.’
Pensive, doubting, fearful heart,
Hear what Christ the Saviour says;
Every word should joy impart,
Change thy mourning into praise.
Yes, He speaks, and speaks to thee.
May He help thee to believe!
Then thou presently wilt see
Thou hast little cause to grieve.
Though afflicted, tempest-tossed,
Comfortless awhile thou art,
Do not think thou canst be lost,
Thou art graven on My heart.
All thy wastes I will repair,
Thou shalt be rebuilt anew;
And in thee it shall appear
What a God of love can do.