Throughout the remainder of her life, Miss Elliott celebrated every year

the day on which her friend had led her to Christ, for she considered it

to be her spiritual birthday. Although it was fourteen years later that

she wrote her immortal hymn, it is apparent that she never forgot the

words of Dr. Malan, for they form the very core and essence of it. The

inspiration for the hymn came one day when the frail invalid had been

left alone at the home of her brother. She was lying on a couch and

pondering on the words spoken by Dr. Malan many years before, when

suddenly the whole glorious truth of salvation as the free gift of God

flashed upon her soul. Then came the heavenly gift. Rising from her

couch, she wrote:

Just as I am, without one plea,

But that Thy blood was shed for me,

And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

Miss Elliott was the author of some 150 hymns. Perhaps her finest, aside

from her great masterpiece, is "My God, my Father, while I stray." By

common consent, Miss Elliott is given first place among English women

hymn-writers.

The Sun That Ne'er Goes Down

Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear,

It is not night if Thou be near;

O may no earthborn cloud arise

To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.

When the soft dews of kindly sleep

My wearied eyelids gently steep,

Be my last thought, how sweet to rest

Forever on my Saviour's breast.

Abide with me from morn till eve,

For without Thee I cannot live;

Abide with me when night is nigh,

For without Thee I dare not die.

If some poor wandering child of Thine

Have spurned today the voice divine,

Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;

Let him no more lie down in sin.

Watch by the sick; enrich the poor

With blessings from Thy boundless store;

Be every mourner's sleep tonight,

Like infant's slumber, pure and light.

Come near and bless us when we wake,

Ere through the world our way we take;

Till in the ocean of Thy love

We lose ourselves in heaven above.

John Keble, 1827.

HOW HYMNS HELPED BUILD A CHURCH

Many of the classic hymns of the Christian Church have been derived from

devotional poems that were never intended as hymns by their writers. This

is true of the beautiful morning hymn, "New every morning is the love,"

and the equally beautiful evening hymn, "Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour

dear." Both of these gems in the treasury of hymnody have been taken from

one of the most famous devotional books ever written--John Keble's "The

Christian Year."

Keble was born at Fairford, England, April 25, 1792, the son of a country

vicar. The only elementary training he received was at the hands of his

gifted father, but at the age of fifteen years he was ready to enter

Oxford University. Here he distinguished himself as a brilliant scholar,

and at the age of twenty-three he was ordained as a clergyman of the

Church of England. He remained as a tutor at Oxford for a number of

years, but when his mother died he returned to Fairford to assist his

father. Although he received a number of tempting offers at this time, he

preferred to labor in this obscure parish, where he might be of help and

comfort to his father and his two sisters.

It was not until 1835, when his father died and the home was broken up,

that Keble accepted the vicarage of Hursley, another humble and scattered

parish, with a population of 1,500 people. He married in the same year,

and here he and his devoted wife labored until 1866, when they passed

away within six weeks of each other.

It was in 1827, when Keble was only twenty-seven, that he yielded to the

strong entreaties of his father and many of his friends and consented to

publish the volume of poems known as "The Christian Year." The verses

follow the church calendar, and it was the author's desire that the book

should be a devotional companion to the Book of Common Prayer. For this

reason it has been called "The Prayer Book in Poetry."

Keble was so modest concerning his work that he refused to permit the

volume to bear his name, and so it was given to the world anonymously.

The work was a marvelous success. From 1827 to 1867, a year after the

author's death, the book had passed through one hundred and nine

editions. Keble used a large part of the proceeds derived from the sales

of his book in helping to rebuild the church at Hursley. He also was

instrumental in having churches built at Otterbourne and Ampfield,

hamlets that belonged to his parish.

Religious leaders, as well as literary critics, have been unanimous in

rendering tribute to this remarkable volume. Dr. Arnold, the great

schoolmaster of Rugby, speaking of Keble's poems, says: "Nothing equal to

them exists in our language. The knowledge of Scripture, the purity of

heart, and the richness of poetry, I never saw equaled." "It is a book,"

says Canon Barry, "which leads the soul up to God, not through one, but

through all of the various faculties which He has implanted in it." And

Dr. Pusey adds: "It taught, because his own soul was moved so deeply; the

stream burst forth, because the heart that poured it out was full; it was

fresh, deep, tender, loving, because he himself was such; he was true,

and thought aloud, and conscience everywhere responded to the voice of

conscience."

The publication of "The Christian Year" brought Keble such fame that, in

1831, he was elected professor of poetry at Oxford. He did not remove

thither, but in 1833 he preached at Oxford his famous sermon on "National

Apostasy" which is credited with having started the so-called "Oxford

Movement."

This movement had its inception in the earnest desire on the part of many

prominent leaders of the Church of England, including John Newman, to

bring about a spiritual awakening in the Church. They looked askance at

the evangelistic methods of the Wesleyan leaders and turned to the other

extreme of high church ritualism. All England was profoundly stirred by a

series of "Tracts for the Times," written by Newman and his friends,

among them Keble. A disastrous result of the movement was the desertion

of Newman and a large number of others to the Church of Rome; but Keble

shrank from this final step and remained a high church Episcopalian.

Although a great part of his later life was occupied with religious

controversy, we would like to remember Keble as a consecrated Christian

poet and an humble parish pastor. For more than thirty years he labored

faithfully among his people, visiting from house to house. If it was

impossible for a candidate to attend confirmation instruction during the

day, Keble would go to his house at night, armed with cloak and lantern.

He gave each candidate a Bible, in which he had marked the passages that

were to be learned. These Bibles were highly prized, and some of them are

to be found in Hursley to this day. It was noticed that, whenever the

Vicar prepared to read and explain a passage of Scripture, he would first

bow his head and close his eyes while he asked for the guidance of the

Holy Spirit.

Keble's famous morning hymn, "New every morning is the love," is taken

from a poem of sixteen verses. The first line reads, "O timely happy,

timely wise." It contains the two oft quoted stanzas that ought to be

treasured in the heart of every Christian:

The trivial round, the common task,

Will furnish all we ought to ask,

Room to deny ourselves; a road

To bring us daily nearer God.

Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love

Fit us for perfect rest above;

And help us this, and every day,

To live more nearly as we pray.

The evening hymn is also taken from a longer poem, in which the author

first describes in graphic words the setting of the sun:

'Tis gone! that bright and orbed blaze,

Fast fading from our wistful gaze;

Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight

The last faint pulse of quivering light.

In darkness and in weariness

The traveler on his way must press,

No gleam to watch on tree or tower,

Whiling away the lonesome hour.

Then comes the beautiful and reassuring thought:

Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,

It is not night if Thou be near!

O may no earthborn cloud arise

To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.

The peculiar tenderness in Keble's poetry is beautifully illustrated in

the second stanza:

When the soft dews of kindly sleep

My wearied eyelids gently steep,

Be my last thought, how sweet to rest

Forever on my Saviour's breast.

Other familiar hymns by Keble are "The Voice that breathed o'er Eden,"

"Blest are the pure in heart," and "When God of old came down from

heaven."

The Hymn of a Perplexed Soul

Lead, kindly light, amid th' encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou

Shouldst lead me on;

I loved to choose and see my path; but now

Lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,

Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone,

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

John Henry Newman, 1833.

A FAMOUS HYMN BY A PROSELYTE OF ROME

When the children of Israel were about to resume the march from Mount

Sinai and Moses had received the command to lead the people into the

unknown wilderness, we are told in Exodus that Moses hesitated.

"See," said the great leader, "Thou sayest unto me, 'Bring up this

people': and Thou hast not let me know whom Thou wilt send with me." And

God answered, "My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee

rest."

It was this sublime thought of the guiding presence of God that gave to

John Henry Newman the inspiration for "Lead, kindly Light."

There was much of tragedy in the strange life of Newman. He was born in

London, the son of a banker, February 21, 1801. It is said that he was

extremely superstitious as a boy, and that he would cross himself, after

the custom of Roman Catholics, whenever he entered a dark place. He also

came to the conclusion that it was the will of God that he should never

marry.

He graduated from Trinity College, Oxford, at the age of nineteen, and

four years later was ordained as a minister of the Church of England. He

soon began to be attracted by Roman Catholic teachings and to associate

with leaders of that communion. In 1833 he was in poor health, and

determined to go to Italy. This was the year of the famous "Oxford

Movement," which was destined to carry so many high Anglicans into the

Roman communion. While in Rome he came still further under the influence

of the Romanists, who lost no opportunity to take advantage of his

perplexed state of mind. Leaving Rome, he went down to Sicily, where he

was stricken with fever and was near death. After his recovery, his one

thought was to return to his native shores. He writes:

"I was aching to get home; yet for want of a vessel was kept at Palermo

for three weeks. At last I got an orange-boat bound for Marseilles. We

were becalmed a whole week on the Mediterranean Sea. Then it was (June

16, 1833) that I wrote the lines: 'Lead, kindly Light.'"

The hymn, therefore, may be said to be the work of a man who found

himself in deep mental, physical, and spiritual distress. Newman was

greatly dissatisfied with conditions within his own Church. In his

perplexity he scarcely knew where to turn, but he had no intention at

this time, as he himself states, to forsake the Church of England for the

Roman Catholic communion. This step was not taken by him until twelve

years later.

"Lead, kindly Light" was published for the first time in "The British

Magazine," in the month of March, 1834. It bore the title,

"Faith--Heavenly Leadings." Two years later he printed it with the title,

"Light in the Darkness," and the motto, "Unto the godly there ariseth up

light in the darkness." At a later date he published it under the title,

"The Pillar of the Cloud."

Newman ascribed its popularity as a hymn to the appealing tune written

for it in 1865 by Dr. John B. Dykes. As to its poetic qualities there has

been the widest divergence of opinion. While one critic has called it

"one of the outstanding lyrics of the nineteenth century," William T.

Stead observes, caustically, that "It is somewhat hard for the staunch

Protestant to wax enthusiastic over the invocation of a 'Kindly Light'

which led the author straight into the arms of the Scarlet Woman of the

Seven Hills."

The hymn has often been attacked on the ground that it is not definitely

Christian in character. In this respect it is similar to Mrs. Adams'

famous hymn, "Nearer, my God, to Thee." When the Parliament of Religions

convened in Chicago a few years ago, Newman's hymn was the only one sung

by representatives of all creeds from every part of the world. Bishop

Bickersteth of England, feeling the need of the Christian note in the

hymn, added the following stanza:

Meantime along the narrow rugged path

Thyself hast trod,

Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,

Home to my God

To rest for ever after earthly strife

In the calm light of everlasting life.

This was done, said Bishop Bickersteth, "from a deep conviction that the

heart of the belated pilgrim can only find rest in the Light of Light."

The additional stanza, however, has not come into general use.

Many interpretations have been given to the closing lines,

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

Some have believed that Newman by "angel faces" had in mind loved ones

lost through death. Yet others are convinced that the author had

reference to the actual visions of angels which are said to have come to

him in youth, and the loss of which greatly grieved him in later life.

Newman himself, in a letter written January 18, 1879, refused to throw

further light on the lines, pleading that he had forgotten the meaning

that he had in mind when the hymn was written forty-six years before.

Rome honored its distinguished proselyte by making him a cardinal. It is

said, however, that Newman was never again a happy man after having

surrendered the faith of his fathers. He died at Birmingham, England,

August 11, 1890, at the age of eighty-nine years.

A disciple of Newman's, Frederick William Faber, may be mentioned in this

connection, for the lives of the two men were strangely intertwined.

Faber, who was the son of an English clergyman, was born at Yorkshire,

June 28, 1814. He was graduated from Oxford in 1836, and became a

minister of the English Church at Elton in 1843.

While at Oxford he came under the influence of the "Oxford Movement" and

formed a deep attachment for Newman. It was inevitable, therefore, that

he too should be carried into the Roman Church, which communion he joined

in 1846. For some years he labored with Newman in the Catholic church of

St. Philip Neri in London. He died in 1863 at the age of forty-nine

years.

Faber wrote a large number of hymns, many of them before his desertion to

the Church of Rome. Others, written after his defection, containing

eulogies of Mary and petitions addressed to the saints, have been changed

in order to make them suitable for Protestant hymn-books. His inordinate

use of the word "sweet", and his familiar manner of addressing Christ as

"sweet Saviour" has called down harsh criticism on his hymns as

sentimental and effeminate. However, such hymns as "There's a wideness in

God's mercy," "Hark, hark, my soul! angelic songs are swelling," "O

Saviour, bless us ere we go," "O Paradise, O Paradise," and "Faith of our

fathers, living still" have probably found a permanent place in the

hymn-books of the Church Universal, and will be loved and cherished both

for their devotional spirit and their poetic beauty.

Faber wrote "Faith of our fathers" after his defection to the Church of

Rome. In its original form the author expressed the hope that England

would be brought back to the papal fold. The opening lines, as Faber

wrote them, were:

Faith of our fathers! Mary's prayers

Shall win our country back to thee.

A Hymn Written in the Shadows

Abide with me! fast falls the eventide;

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide!

When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, O abide with me!

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;

Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away;

Change and decay in all around I see;

O Thou who changest not, abide with me!

I need Thy presence every passing hour:

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?

Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?

Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me!

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless:

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory?

I triumph still, if Thou abide with me!

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes,

Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;

Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;

In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!

Henry Francis Lyte, 1847.

HENRY FRANCIS LYTE AND HIS SWAN SONG

Many a man who has labored in obscure places, practically unnoticed and

unpraised by his own generation, has achieved a fame after his death that

grows in magnitude with the passing years.

When Henry Francis Lyte died in 1847, he was little known beyond his

humble seashore parish at Lower Brixham, England; but today, wherever his

beautiful hymns are sung throughout the Christian world, he is gratefully

remembered as the man who wrote "Abide with me."

In response to a questionnaire sent to American readers recently by "The

Etude," a musical magazine, 7,500 out of nearly 32,000 persons who

replied named "Abide with me" as their favorite hymn. It easily took

first rank, displacing such older favorites as "Rock of Ages" and "Jesus,

Lover of my soul."

How often we have sung this hymn at the close of an evening service, and

a settled peace has come into our hearts as we have realized the nearness

of Him who said, "And lo! I am with you always." Yet, this is not in

reality an evening hymn. Its theme is the evening of life, and it was

written when Lyte felt the shadows of death gathering about his own head.

We catch his meaning in the second stanza:

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;

Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away.

Lyte was always frail in health. He was born in Scotland, June 1, 1793,

and was early left an orphan. Nevertheless, despite the handicap of

poverty, he struggled through college, and on three occasions won prizes

with poems.

His first ambition was to become a physician, but during his college days

he determined to enter the ministry. The death of a young friend, a

brother clergyman, brought about a profound change in the spiritual life

of Lyte. Called to the bedside of his friend to give him consolation, he

discovered to his sorrow that both he and the dying man were blind guides

who were still groping for light. Through a prayerful search of the

Scriptures, however, they both came to a firm faith in Christ. Lyte wrote

of his friend:

"He died happy under the belief that though he had deeply erred, there

was _One_ whose death and sufferings would atone for his delinquencies,

and that he was forgiven and accepted for His sake."

Concerning the change that came into his own life, he added: "I was

greatly affected by the whole matter, and brought to look at life and its

issue with a different eye than before; and I began to study my Bible and

preach in another manner than I had previously done."

For nearly twenty-five years after this incident Lyte labored among

humble fisherfolk and sailors of the parish at Lower Brixham, and his

deep spiritual zeal and fervor led him to overtax his physical powers.

From time to time he was obliged to spend the winters in more friendly

climes.

In the autumn of 1847 he wrote to a friend that the swallows were flying

southward, and he observed, "They are inviting me to accompany them; and

yet alas; while I am talking of flying, I am just able to crawl."

The Sunday for his farewell service came. His family and friends

admonished him not to preach a sermon, but the conscientious minister

insisted. "It is better," he said, "to _wear_ out than to _rust_ out."

He did preach, and the hearts of his hearers were full that day, for they

seemed to realize that it would probably be the last time they would hear

him. The faithful pastor, too, seemed to have a premonition that it would

be his last sermon. The service closed with the Lord's Supper,

administered by Lyte to his sorrowing flock.

"Though necessarily much exhausted by the exertion and excitement of this

effort," his daughter afterward wrote, "yet his friends had no reason to

believe that it had been hurtful to him."

This was September 4, 1847. That afternoon he walked out along the shore

to watch the sun as it was setting in a glory of crimson and gold. It was

a peaceful, beautiful Sabbath evening. Returning to his home, he shut

himself up in his study for the brief space of an hour, and when he came

out, he handed a near relative the manuscript containing the famous hymn,

"Abide with me." He also had composed a tune of his own for the words,

but this never came into general use.

During the following week Lyte left his beloved England for Italy.

However, he got no farther than Nice, in France, where he was obliged to

discontinue his journey. Here he passed away November 20 of the same

year. His last words were, "Joy! Peace!" and then he fell asleep.

A little cross marks his grave in the English cemetery at Nice, for he

was buried there. Every year hundreds of pilgrims visit his grave and

tell touching stories of how Lyte's hymn brought them to faith in Christ

Jesus.

It was Lyte's life-long wish that he might leave behind him such a hymn

as this. In an earlier poem he had voiced the longing that he might write

Some simple strain, some spirit-moving lay,

Some sparklet of the soul that still might live

When I was passed to clay....

O Thou! whose touch can lend

Life to the dead, Thy quick'ning grace supply,

And grant me, swanlike, my last breath to spend

In song that may not die!

Lyte's prayer was fulfilled. As long as men shall worship the crucified

and risen Lord, so long will they continue to sing the sad and beautiful

words of Lyte's swan song.

In Lyte we have a hymn-writer of the first rank. Indeed, he is comparable

to any of England's greatest hymnists, not excepting Watts or Wesley. His

hymns are real lyrics, Scriptural in language, rich in imagery, and

exalted in poetic conception. "In no other author," says an eminent

authority, "is poetry and religion more exquisitely united."

Aside from the sublime hymn we have mentioned, Lyte has given to the

Church such noble lyrics as "Jesus, I my cross have taken," "Pleasant are

Thy courts above," "Praise, my soul, the King of heaven," "God of mercy,

God of grace," "My spirit on Thy care," "As pants the hart for cooling

streams," and "O that the Lord's salvation." The latter hymn is one of

the few ever written that voice a prayer for the salvation of Israel.

The poetic rapture to which Lyte's poetry sometimes rises is most

beautifully reflected in his hymn of adoration:

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven;

To His feet thy tribute bring;

Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,

Who like thee His praise should sing?

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Praise the everlasting King!

Praise Him for His grace and favor

To our fathers in distress;

Praise Him, still the same as ever,

Slow to chide, and swift to bless:

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Glorious in His faithfulness!

A Woman's Gift to the Church

Nearer, my God, to Thee!

Nearer to Thee!

E'en though it be a cross

That raiseth me,

Still all my song shall be,

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Though, like the wanderer,

The sun gone down,

Darkness be over me,

My rest a stone,

Yet in my dreams I'd be

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

There let my way appear

Steps unto heaven;

All that Thou sendest me

In mercy given;

Angels to beckon me

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Then with my waking thoughts,

Bright with Thy praise,

Out of my stony griefs

Bethel I'll raise,

So by my woes to be

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Or if on joyful wing,

Cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon, and stars forgot,

Upwards I fly;

Still all my song shall be,

Nearer, my God to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Sarah Adams, 1840.

SARAH ADAMS AND THE RISE OF WOMEN HYMN-WRITERS

Nineteenth century hymnody was characterized by an extraordinary number

of women hymn-writers. It is significant that this development came, as

we have noted in a previous chapter, with the great spiritual revivals

which aroused evangelical Europe and America from 1800 to 1875. It was

also coincident with the general movement resulting in the enlargement of

women's influence and activity in all spheres of human endeavor. In the

realm of hymnody women have become the chief exponents of church song.

Dr. Breed has pointed out that the large increase of women hymnists, as

well as the preponderance of hymn translations, is indicative of a period

of decadence in sacred song. While this is probably true of the latter

half of the nineteenth century, which saw the rise of the so-called

"Gospel song," we must cheerfully recognize the fact that such women as

Charlotte Elliott, Sarah Adams, Cecil Alexander and Frances Havergal in

England and Mary Lathbury, Anna Warner, Catherine Esling, Harriet Beecher

Stowe, Phoebe Gary, Elizabeth Prentiss and Fanny Crosby in America have

contributed some of the most precious gems to the treasure-store of

Christian hymns. Indeed, the hymnody of the Church would have been

immeasurably poorer had these consecrated women failed to make use of

their heaven-born talent.

And, although we must deplore the apparent fact that "original utterance

in sacred song is departing from the Church," we must be forever grateful

to such gifted women as Catherine Winkworth and the Borthwick sisters,

who, through their excellent translations, gave to the English-speaking

world some of the choicest pearls of German hymnody.

Charlotte Elliott was the forerunner of the long line of women hymnists.

Then came Sarah Flower Adams, the writer of "Nearer, my God, to Thee,"

one of the greatest sacred lyrics ever given to the world, and probably

the finest ever written by a woman.

Sarah Flower was born at Harlow, England, February 22, 1805, the daughter

of Benjamin Flower, editor of the Cambridge "Intelligencer." The mother

died when Sarah was only five years old. A sister, Eliza, was a gifted

musician, while Sarah early showed talent along literary lines. In later

years Eliza wrote music for the hymns of her sister.

Sarah was fond of the stage. She believed that it could be made to teach

great moral truths as well as the pulpit. Her dreams of becoming an

actress, however, failed to materialize because of poor health. In 1834

she became the wife of John Bridges Adams, a civil engineer, after which

she made her home in London. Her health was seriously impaired through

caring for her sister, who died a consumptive in 1846, and she survived

her less than two years.

Her great hymn was written in 1840. It was published the following year

in a volume of hymns and anthems edited by her pastor, Rev. William

Johnson Fox. This man was a Unitarian, and for this reason Mrs. Adams has

also been classified with that sect. It is said, however, that she became

a Baptist near the close of her life. Other hymns written by her indicate

that she had arrived at a living faith in Christ. Perhaps the many trials

she suffered proved in the end to be the means of bringing her to the

Saviour. And thus was fulfilled in her own life the beautiful lines:

E'en though it be a cross

That raiseth me.

"Nearer, my God, to Thee" has probably aroused more discussion than any

other hymn. Because it is based entirely on the story of Jacob at Bethel

and omits reference to Christ, it has been called more Unitarian than

Christian. Many efforts have been made, but without much success, to

write a substitute hymn with a definite Christian note. In 1864 Bishop

How of London wrote a hymn, the first stanza of which reads:

Nearer, O God, to Thee!

Hear Thou our prayer;

E'en though a heavy cross

Fainting we bear.

Still all our prayer shall be

Nearer, O God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Prof. Henry Eyster Jacobs of Philadelphia, in 1887, also wrote a version:

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

Through Word and Sacrament

Thou com'st to me.

Thy grace is ever near,

Thy Spirit ever here

Drawing to Thee.

The hymn was a favorite with William McKinley, the martyred president.

When he was dying, his attending physician heard him murmur, "'Nearer, my

God, to Thee, E'en though it be a cross,' has been my constant prayer."

That Sweet Story of Old

I think, when I read that sweet story of old,

When Jesus was here among men,

How He called little children as lambs to His fold,

I should like to have been with them then.

I wish that His hand had been placed on my head,

That His arm had been thrown around me,

And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,

"Let the little ones come unto Me."

Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,

And ask for a share in His love;

And if only I earnestly seek Him below,

I shall see Him and hear Him above.

In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare

For all who are washed and forgiven,

Full many dear children are gathering there,

"For of such is the kingdom of heaven"

But thousands and thousands who wander and fall

Never heard of that heavenly home:

I should like them to know there is room for them all,

And that Jesus has bid them to come.

And O how I long for that glorious time,

The sweetest and brightest and best,

When the dear little children of every clime

Shall crowd to His arms and be blest!

Jemima Luke, 1841.

A HYMN WRITTEN IN A STAGE-COACH

Some one has said, "Let me write the songs of a nation, and I care not

who may write its laws."

It is a wise saying; for who can estimate the influence of the songs we

sing, especially the songs of children? There is no better way to teach

Christian truths to children than to have them sing those truths into

their hearts and souls.

When Jemima Luke sat in an English stage-coach in 1841 composing the

lines of a little poem that had been ringing in her mind, she could

scarcely have known she was writing a hymn that would gladden the hearts

of thousands of children in many years to come. But that is how she wrote

"I think when I read that sweet story of old," and that is the happy fate

that was in store for her labor of love.

Her maiden name was Jemima Thompson. Her father was a missionary

enthusiast, and she herself was filled with zeal for mission enterprises.

Even as a child, at the age of thirteen, she was an anonymous contributor

to "The Juvenile Magazine." When she was twenty-eight years old she

visited a school where the children had been singing a fine old melody as

a marching song.

"What a lovely children's hymn it would make," she thought, "if only

there were suitable religious words for it."

She hunted through many books for the words she desired, but could find

none that satisfied her. Some time later, as she was riding in a stage

coach with nothing to occupy her, she thought of the tune again. Taking

an old envelope from her pocket, she recorded on the back of it the words

that have come to be loved on both sides of the Atlantic, and some day

probably will be sung by the children of all the world.

When she returned home, she taught the words and the melody to her Sunday

school class. Her father, who was superintendent of the school, chanced

to hear them one day.

"Where did that hymn come from?" he asked.

"Jemima made it!" was the proud answer of the youngsters.

Without telling his daughter about it, the father sent a copy of the

words to the "Sunday School Teachers' Magazine," and in a few weeks it

appeared for the first time in print. Since that time it has continued to

find a place year after year in almost every juvenile hymnal published in

the English language.

The last stanza of the hymn, which begins with the words, "But thousands

and thousands who wander and fall," was added subsequently by the author,

who desired to make it suitable for missionary gatherings. Her interest

in foreign missions continued unabated throughout her life. At one time

she was accepted as a missionary to the women of India, but poor health

prevented her from carrying out her purpose. However, she edited "The

Missionary Repository," the first missionary magazine for children, and

numbered among her contributors such famous missionaries as David

Livingstone, Robert Moffatt and James Montgomery.

In 1843 she married a minister, Rev. Samuel Luke. After his death in 1868

she devoted much of her time to promoting the erection of parsonages in

parishes that were too poor to provide them for their pastors.

When an international convention of the Christian Endeavor society was

held in Baltimore in 1904, Mrs. Luke sent the following message to the

young people:

"Dear children, you will be men and women soon, and it is for you and the

children of England to carry the message of a Saviour's love to every

nation of this sin-stricken world. It is a blessed message to carry, and

it is a happy work to do. The Lord make you ever faithful to Him, and

unspeakably happy in His service! I came to Him at ten years of age, and

at ninety-one can testify to His care and faithfulness."

She died in 1906 at the age of ninety-three years. Although she wrote a

great deal of inspiring Christian literature, it is only her beautiful

"Sweet Story of Old" that has come down to us.

Redemption's Story in a Hymn

There is a green hill far away,

Without a city wall,

Where the dear Lord was crucified,

Who died to save us all.

We may not know, we cannot tell,

What pains He had to bear;

But we believe it was for us

He hung and suffered there.

He died that we might be forgiven,

He died to make us good,

That we might go at last to heaven,

Saved by His precious blood.

There was no other good enough

To pay the price of sin;

He only could unlock the gate

Of heaven, and let us in.

O dearly, dearly has He loved,

And we must love Him too,

And trust in His redeeming blood,

And try His works to do.

Cecil Frances Alexander, 1848.

AN ARCHBISHOP'S WIFE WHO WROTE HYMNS

Shortly before the death in 1911 of Archbishop William Alexander, primate

of the Anglican Church in Ireland, he remarked that he would be

remembered as the husband of the woman who wrote "The roseate hues of

early dawn" and "There is a green hill far away."

The humble prelate was right. Although he occupied an exalted position in

the Church less than two decades ago, few people today recall his name.

But who has not heard the name of Cecil Frances Humphreys Alexander, who,

in spite of multitudinous duties as wife and mother, found time to be a

parish worker among the poor and to write hymns that shall never die?

When Cecil Frances was only a little girl, she began to reveal poetic

talent. Because her father was an officer in the Royal Marines and rather

a stern man, she was not sure that he would be pleased with her efforts

and therefore she hid her poems under a carpet! When he finally

discovered what his nine-year-old daughter was busying herself with, he

set aside a certain hour every Saturday evening, at which time he read

aloud to the family the poems she had written.

The family numbered among its friends none other than John Keble, writer

of the famous collection of devotional poems known as "The Christian

Year," and he, too, gave encouragement to the youthful poet.

In 1848, at the age of twenty-five, she published a volume of hymns for

little children that probably has never been excelled by a similar

collection. Two years later she became the bride of Rev. William

Alexander, afterwards Bishop of Derry and Raphoe, and later Archbishop of

Armaugh. He was rector of a country parish in the county of Tyrone at the

time, and there was much poverty among his people. Among these needy folk

the young minister's wife moved about like a ministering angel. A

beautiful tribute to her memory from the pen of her husband reads: "From

one poor home to another, from one bed of sickness to another, from one

sorrow to another, she went. Christ was ever with her, and in her, and

all felt her influence."

But the poetic spark within her was not permitted to languish. Even when

children began to bless this unusual household and the cares of the

mother increased, her harp was tuned anew and sweeter songs than ever

began to well up from her joyous, thankful heart.

Practically all of the four hundred hymns and poems written by Mrs.

Alexander were intended for children, and for this reason their language

is very simple. At the same time she succeeds in teaching some of the

most profound truths of the Christian faith. Witness, for example, the

simple language of "There is a green hill far away." A child has no

difficulty in comprehending it, and yet this precious hymn sets forth in

a most touching way the whole story of the Atonement.

He died that we might be forgiven,

He died to make us good,

That we might go at last to heaven,

Saved by His precious blood.

Again, the infinite value of the sacrifice which Christ made when He, the

Sinless One, died for sinners is expressed in these simple, appealing

words:

There was no other good enough

To pay the price of sin,

He only could unlock the gate

Of heaven, and let us in.

Archbishop Alexander mentioned two hymns by which his wife's name, and

incidentally his own, would be remembered. He might have added several

others, such as the challenging hymn, "Jesus calls us; o'er the tumult,"

or the two beautiful children's hymns, "Once in royal David's city" and

"All things bright and beautiful." And among her splendid poems he might

have mentioned the sublime verses entitled "The Burial of Moses." Her own

spirit of confiding trust in God is reflected in the lines:

O lonely tomb in Moab's land!

O dark Beth-peor's hill!

Speak to these curious hearts of ours,

And teach them to be still;

God has His mysteries of grace,

Ways that we cannot tell;

He hides them deep, like the secret sleep

Of him He loved so well.

Mrs. Alexander died in 1895 at the age of seventy-two years. She was

buried in Londonderry, Ireland. At Archbishop Alexander's funeral sixteen

years later "The roseate hues of early dawn" was sung in Londonderry

cathedral, and when the body was lowered into the grave the mourners

sang, "There is a green hill far away."

During the years when Mrs. Alexander was penning her beautiful lyrics,

three other women were giving hymns to the English people in another way.

They were Catherine Winkworth and the sisters Jane Borthwick and Sarah

Borthwick Findlater, all three of whom had conceived a deep love for the

wonderful hymns of Germany and were translating them into their native

tongue.

Miss Winkworth, who is the foremost translator of German hymns, was born

in London, September 13, 1829. Her "Lyra Germanica," published in 1855,

met with such favorable reception that a second series was issued in

1858. Her "Christian Singers of Germany" was published in 1869.

Miss Winkworth possessed a marvelous ability of preserving the spirit of

the great German hymns while she clothed them in another language. It was

she who gave us in English dress such magnificent hymns as Rinkart's "Now

thank we all our God," Luther's "Out of the depths I cry to Thee,"

Decius' "All glory be to God on high," Neander's "Praise to the Lord, the

Almighty, the King of creation," Schmolck's "Open now thy gates of

beauty," and Gerhardt's "All my heart this night rejoices." Miss

Winkworth, more than any other one person, is responsible for having

aroused in England and America an appreciation of the treasure store of

German hymnody. She died in 1869.

The two Borthwick sisters, Jane Laurie and Sarah, were born in Edinburgh,

Scotland, the former in 1813 and the latter in 1823. They came from an

old Scotch family. Sarah married a Rev. Eric Findlater and lived for a

time in Perthshire.

The Borthwick sisters collaborated in the preparation of the translations

entitled "Hymns from the Land of Luther." These appeared first in 1854

and continued in four series until 1862. Although it is difficult to

distinguish the individual work of the sisters, Jane is generally

credited with the translation of such noble hymns as Zinzendorf's "Jesus,

still lead on," and Schmolck's "My Jesus, as Thou wilt," while Sarah is

believed to be the translator of Tersteegen's "God calling yet," Spitta's

"O happy home, where Thou art loved the dearest," Schmolck's "My God, I

know that I must die," and a large number of other famous German hymns.

Jane Borthwick died in 1897, and her younger sister followed her ten

years later.

The Voice of Jesus

I heard the voice of Jesus say:

"Come unto Me and rest;

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down

Thy head upon My breast."

I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary, and worn, and sad;

I found in Him a resting-place,

And He has made me glad.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

"Behold, I freely give

The living water, thirsty one,

Stoop down, and drink, and live."

I came to Jesus and I drank

Of that life-giving stream;

My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,

And now I live in Him.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

"I am this dark world's Light;

Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise,

And all thy day be bright."

I looked to Jesus, and I found

In Him my Star, my Sun;

And in that Light of life I'll walk,

Till traveling days are done.

Horatius Bonar, 1846.

BONAR, THE SWEET SINGER OF SCOTLAND

One of Scotland's most earnest soul-winners was also its greatest

hymnist. He was Horatius Bonar, a name that will be forever cherished by

all who are filled with a fervent love for the Saviour and who find that

love so beautifully expressed in the spiritual songs of the noble

Scotchman.

Like the hymns of Mrs. Alexander, Dr. Bonar wrote his songs for children;

but they are so profound and intensely spiritual in their very simplicity

they will always satisfy the most mature Christian mind. No matter how

old we become, our hearts will ever be stirred as we sing the tender

words:

I long to be like Jesus,

Meek, loving, lowly, mild;

I long to be like Jesus,

The Father's holy Child.

I long to be with Jesus,

Amid the heavenly throng,

To sing with saints His praises,

To learn the angels' song.

The subjective, emotional element is strongly present in the hymns of

Bonar. In this respect there is a striking resemblance to the hymns of

the great German writer, Benjamin Schmolck. Both use the name "Jesus"

freely, and both become daringly intimate, yet the hymns of neither are

weak or sentimental.

In Bonar we behold the strange anomaly of a man with a strong physique

and powerful intellect combined with the gentle, sympathetic nature of a

woman and the simple, confiding faith of a child. The warmth and

sincerity of his personal faith in Christ may be seen reflected in all

his hymns. "I try to fill my hymns with the love and light of Christ," he

once said, and certainly he has drawn many souls to the Saviour by the

tenderness of their appeal.

Bonar is ever pointing in his hymns to Christ as an all-sufficient

Saviour, dwelling in simple language on the blessings of the Atonement

and the willingness of God to accept all who come to Him through Christ.

In these days of modernistic teachings when practically all stress is

placed on "living the Christ-life" while the meritorious work of Christ

on behalf of the sinner is largely ignored and forgotten, it would be

salutary for the Church to listen anew to such words as these:

Upon a Life I have not lived,

Upon a Death I did not die,

Another's Life; Another's Death:

I stake my whole eternity.

Not on the tears which I have shed;

Not on the sorrows I have known:

Another's tears; Another's griefs:

On them I rest, on them alone.

Jesus, O Son of God, I build

On what Thy cross has done for me;

There both my death and life I read;

My guilt, my pardon there I see.

Lord, I believe; O deal with me

As one who has Thy Word believed!

I take the gift, Lord, look on me

As one who has Thy gift received.

Bonar was born in Edinburgh, December 19, 1808. His father was a lawyer,

but he came from a long line of eminent Scottish ministers. His mother

was a gentle, pious woman, and it was largely through her influence that

her three sons, John, Horatius and Andrew, entered the ministry of the

Church of Scotland. Andrew became a noted Bible commentator.

After completing his course at the University of Edinburgh, Horatius

began mission work in Leith, under Rev. James Lewis. In one of the most

squalid parts of the city he conducted services and Sunday school in a

hall. The children did not seem to enjoy singing the Psalm paraphrases,

which were still exclusively used by the Church of Scotland at that late

date, and therefore Bonar decided to write songs of his own. Like Luther,

he chose happy tunes familiar to the children, and wrote words to fit

them. His first two hymns were "I lay my sins on Jesus" and "The morning,

the bright and beautiful morning." Still others were "I was a wandering

sheep" and "A few more years shall roll." Needless to say, the children

sang and enjoyed them.

At this time, also, he wrote his first hymn for adults, "Go, labor on!

Spend and be spent!" It was intended to encourage those who were working

with him among the poor of his district.

After four years Bonar was ordained as a minister of the Church of

Scotland, assuming charge of a new church at Kelso. He was a man of

prayer, and his first sermon to his people was an exhortation to prayer.

It is said that a young servant in his home was converted by his prayers.

Hearing his earnest supplications from his locked study, she thought: "If

he needs to pray so much, what will become of me, if I do not pray!"

Many stories are related of his methods of dealing with seeking souls. A

young man who was troubled by a grievous sin came to Bonar for help. The

latter told him that God was willing to forgive and that the blood of

Jesus His Son cleanseth from all sin. The despairing young man seemed

unable to believe the gospel message, however, and continually reminded

Bonar of the greatness of his transgression. Finally an inspiration came

to the pastor. "Tell me," he demanded, "which is of greater weight in the

eyes of God--your sin, black as it is, or the blood of Jesus, shed for

sinners?" Light dawned on the soul of the troubled young man, and he

cried joyfully, "Oh, I am sure the blood of Jesus weighs more heavily

than even my sin!" And so he found peace.

Bonar was a man of boundless energy. When he was not preaching, he was

writing hymns or tracts or books. One of his tracts, "Believe and Live,"

was printed in more than a million copies, and the late Queen Victoria of

England was much blessed by it. His hymns number about 600, and the fact

that at least 100 are in common use today is a testimonial to their

worth. Dr. Bonar never used his hymns in his own church worship, but

when, on a certain occasion near the close of his life, he broke the

rule, two of his elders showed their emphatic disapproval by walking out

of church.

Perhaps the finest hymn we have received from his pen, if we except "I

lay my sins on Jesus," is "I heard the voice of Jesus say." Other

familiar hymns are "Thy works, not mine, O Christ," "Not what my hands

have done," "Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power," "All that I was,

my sin, my guilt," "Thy way, not mine, O Lord," and "A few more years

shall roll."

In 1843 Dr. Bonar married Miss Jane Lundie, and for forty years they

shared joy and sorrow. She, too, was a gifted writer, and it is she who

has given us the beautiful gem, "Fade, fade, each earthly joy."

Sorrow was one of the means used by the Lord to enrich and mellow the

life of Bonar. Five of his children died in early years. It required much

of divine grace in such experiences to write lines like these:

Spare not the stroke; do with us as Thou wilt;

Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred.

Complete Thy purpose, that we may become

Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord.

Bonar himself was sorely afflicted during the last two years of his life.

He died in 1889, deeply mourned by all Scotland as well as by Christians

throughout the world who had come to know him through his tracts and

hymns. At his funeral one of his own hymns was sung. It was written on

the theme of his family motto, "Heaven at Last."

What a city! what a glory!

Far beyond the brightest story

Of the ages old and hoary:

Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Christ Himself the living splendor,

Christ the sunlight mild and tender;

Praises to the Lamb we render:

Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Now, at length, the veil is rended,

Now the pilgrimage is ended,

And the saints their thrones ascended:

Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Broken death's dread bands that bound us,

Life and victory around us;

Christ, the King, Himself hath crowned us;

Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

The Dayspring from on High

O very God of very God,

And very Light of Light,

Whose feet this earth's dark valley trod,

That so it might be bright!

Our hopes are weak, our foes are strong,

Thick darkness blinds our eyes;

Cold is the night, and O we long

For Thee, our Sun, to rise!

And even now, though dull and gray,

The east is brightening fast,

And kindling to the perfect day

That never shall be past.

O guide us till our path be done,

And we have reached the shore

Where Thou, our everlasting Sun,

Art shining evermore!

We wait in faith, and turn our face

To where the daylight springs,

Till Thou shalt come our gloom to chase,

With healing on Thy wings.

John Mason Neale, 1846.

TWO FAMOUS TRANSLATORS OF ANCIENT HYMNS

Little more than a century ago--in the year 1818, to be exact--there was

born in the great city of London a child who was destined to become an

unusual scholar. He was christened John Mason Neale, a name that may be

found today throughout the pages of the world's best hymn-books.

When he was only five years old, his father died, and, like so many other

men who have achieved fame, he received the greater part of his

elementary training from a gifted mother.

At Cambridge University, which he entered at an early age, he became a

brilliant student, leading his classes and winning numerous prizes. After

his graduation he was ordained as a minister in the Church of England.

His interest in the ancient hymns of the Christian Church led him to

spend much time in the morning lands of history, particularly in Greece.

To him, more than any one else, we owe some of the most successful

translations from the classical languages. By his sojourn in eastern

lands, he seems to have been enabled to catch the spirit of the Greek

hymns to such a degree that his translations read almost like original

poems. For instance, in order to do justice to the famous Easter hymn of

John of Damascus, written some time during the eighth century, Neale

celebrated Easter in Athens and heard the "glorious old hymn of victory,"

as he called it, sung by a great throng of worshipers at midnight. The

result is his sublime translation:

The day of resurrection!

Earth, tell it out abroad!

The Passover of gladness,

The Passover of God!

From death to Life eternal,

From earth unto the sky,

Our Christ hath brought us over,

With hymns of victory.

Another very famous translation from the Greek by Neale is the hymn:

Art thou weary, art thou languid,

Art thou sore distressed?

"Come to me," saith One, "and, coming,

Be at rest."

This hymn is often regarded as an original by Neale, but the author was

St. Stephen the Sabaite, a monk who received his name from the monastery

in which he spent his life, that of St. Sabas, near Bethlehem,

overlooking the Dead Sea. St. Stephen, who was born in 725 A.D., had been

placed in the monastery at the age of ten years by his uncle. He lived

there more than half a century until his death in 794 A.D.

Neale was equally successful in the translation of ancient Latin hymns.

Perhaps the most notable is his rendering of Bernard of Cluny's immortal

hymn:

Jerusalem, the golden,

With milk and honey blest!

Beneath thy contemplation

Sink heart and voice oppressed:

I know not, O I know not,

What blissful joys are there,

What radiancy of glory,

What light beyond compare!

So facile was Neale in the art of writing either English or Latin verse,

that he often astounded his friends. It is said that on one occasion John

Keble, author of "The Christian Year," was visiting him. Absenting

himself from the room for a few minutes, Neale returned shortly and

exclaimed: "I thought, Keble, that all your poems in 'The Christian Year'

were original; but one of them, at least, seems to be a translation."

Thereupon he handed Keble, to the latter's amazement, a very fine Latin

rendering of one of Keble's own poems. He had made the translation during

his absence from the room.

But Neale did not confine himself to translations. He also wrote a large

number of splendid original hymns. He was fond of writing hymns for holy

days and festivals of the church year. The hymn printed in connection

with this sketch is for Advent. "Oh Thou, who by a star didst guide," for

Epiphany, and "Blessed Saviour, who hast taught me," for confirmation,

are among his other original hymns.

Because of his "high church" tendencies, accentuated no doubt by the

influence of the "Oxford Movement," Neale incurred the suspicion of some

that he leaned toward the Church of Rome. However, there is nothing of

Roman error to be found in his hymns. The evangelical note rings pure and

clear, and for this reason they will no doubt continue to be loved and

sung through centuries yet to come.

Neale died August 6, 1866, at the age of forty-eight years, trusting in

the atoning blood of Christ, and with the glorious assurance expressed in

his version of St. Stephen's hymn:

If I still hold closely to Him,

What hath He at last?

"Sorrow vanquished, labor ended,

Jordan passed."

If I ask Him to receive me,

Will He say me nay?

"Not till earth and not till heaven

Pass away."

Another Englishman who gained renown by translations of the old classical

hymns of the Church was Edward Caswall. He was a contemporary of Neale,

and, like the latter, came under the influence of the "Oxford Movement,"

which cost the Church of England some of its ablest men. While Neale,

however, remained faithful to his own communion, Caswall resigned as a

minister of the English Church and became a Romanist. He was made a

priest in the Congregation of the Oratory, which Cardinal Newman had

established in Birmingham, a position he continued to fill until his

death in 1878.

Two of the most beautiful hymns in the English language--"Jesus, the very

thought of Thee" and "O Jesus, King most wonderful"--were derived by

Caswall from the famous Latin poem, _De Nomine Jesu_, by Bernard of

Clairvaux. Of the former hymn Dr. Robinson has said: "One might call this

poem the finest in the world and still be within the limits of all

extravagance."

Among other fine translations from the Latin by Caswall are "Hark! a

thrilling voice is sounding" and "Glory be to Jesus." He also has given

us some hymns from the German, including the exquisite morning hymn,

"When morning gilds the skies." This is such a free rendering, however,

that it may rather be regarded as an original hymn by Caswall. Three of

its stanzas read:

When morning gilds the skies,

My heart, awaking, cries,

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Alike at work and prayer,

To Jesus I repair;

May Jesus Christ be praised!

In heaven's eternal bliss

The loveliest strain is this,

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Let air, and sea, and sky

From depth to height reply,

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine,

My canticle divine,

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this the eternal song

Through all the ages on,

May Jesus Christ be praised!

A Great Marching Song

Onward, Christian soldiers,

Marching as to war,

With the cross of Jesus

Going on before.

Christ, the royal Master,

Leads against the foe;

Forward into battle,

See, His banners go!

At the sign of triumph

Satan's armies flee;

On, then, Christian soldiers,

On to victory!

Hell's foundations quiver

At the shout of praise;

Brothers, lift your voices,

Loud your anthems raise.

Crowns and thrones may perish,

Kingdoms rise and wane,

But the church of Jesus

Constant will remain;

Gates of hell can never

'Gainst that church prevail;

We have Christ's own promise,

And that cannot fail.

Onward, then, ye people!

Join our happy throng,

Blend with ours your voices

In the triumph-song;

Glory, laud, and honor

Unto Christ the King,

This through countless ages

Men and angels sing.

Sabine Baring-Gould, 1865.

BARING-GOULD AND HIS NOTED HYMN

When Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould, on Whitsunday, 1865, sat up a greater

portion of the night to compose a hymn, he did not realize he was writing

words that would be sung through the centuries; but that no doubt will be

the result of his zeal. The hymn he wrote was "Onward, Christian

soldiers."

The story is an interesting one. At that time Baring-Gould was minister

of the Established Church at Lew-Trenchard, England. On Whitmonday the

children of his village were to march to an adjoining village for a

Sunday school rally.

"If only there was something they could sing as they marched," the pastor

thought, "the way would not seem so long." He searched diligently for

something suitable but failed to find what he wanted. Finally he decided

to write a marching song. It took the greater part of the night to do it,

but the next morning the children's pilgrimage was made the lighter and

happier by "Onward, Christian soldiers."

Commenting on the hymn some thirty years later, the author said: "It was

written in great haste, and I am afraid some of the rhymes are faulty.

Certainly, nothing has surprised me more than its popularity."

In this instance, as in many others that might be mentioned, the tune to

which it is inseparably wedded, has no doubt contributed much to make it

popular. Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan, the great English organist who

wrote "The Lost Chord," in 1872 composed the stirring music now used for

Baring-Gould's hymn.

Objection has sometimes been voiced against the hymn because of its

martial spirit. However, it should be noted that this hymn gives not the

slightest hint of warfare with carnal weapons. The allusion is to

spiritual warfare, and the warrior is the Christian soldier.

We are reminded throughout this hymn of Paul's martial imagery in the

sixth chapter of Ephesians, where he tells us that "our wrestling is not

against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the

powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual

hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places," and admonishes us to put on

"the whole armor of God." We also recall the same apostle's exhortation

to Timothy to "war the good warfare," and to "fight the good fight of

faith."

It is salutary to be reminded by such a hymn as this of the heroic

character of the Christian life. The follower of Jesus is not to sit with

folded hands and sing his way into Paradise. A sickly, sentimental

religion has no more place in the Christian Church today than it had in

those early days when apostles and martyrs sealed their faith with their

life-blood. Baring-Gould's hymn seems almost an exultant answer to Isaac

Watts' challenging stanza:

Must I be carried to the skies

On flowery beds of ease,

While others fought to win the prize,

And sailed through bloody seas?

We sometimes hear it said that the Church of Christ has fallen on evil

days, and more than one faithful soul fears for the future. Baring-Gould

has reminded us here of Christ's "own promise" that, though kingdoms may

rise and fall, His kingdom shall ever remain, for the gates of hell shall

not prevail against it.

During a desperate battle between the French and Austrians in the

Napoleonic wars, a French officer rushed to his commander and exclaimed,

"The battle is lost!" Quietly the general answered, "One battle is lost,

but there is time to win another." Inspired by the commander's

unconquerable optimism, the French army renewed the struggle and snatched

victory out of the jaws of defeat. That has ever been the history of the

Church of Christ.

Baring-Gould was one of England's most versatile ministers. In addition

to his hymn-writing, he was a novelist of considerable reputation. For

many years he regularly produced a novel every year. His "Lives of the

Saints" in fifteen volumes, his "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages" and

his "Legends of the Old Testament" are all notable works. It is said that

he did all his writing in long hand without the aid of a secretary. He

once declared that he often did his best work when he felt least inclined

to apply himself to his task. He never waited for an "inspiration," but

plunged into his work and then stuck to it until it was finished.

The beautiful evening hymn, "Now the day is over," is also from

Baring-Gould's pen, and, to show his versatility, he also composed the

tune for it. He was also the translator of Bernhardt Severin Ingemann's

famous Danish hymn, "Through the night of doubt and sorrow."

Despite his arduous and unceasing labors, Baring-Gould lived to the ripe

old age of ninety years. He died in 1924, but his hymn goes marching on.

A Rapturous Hymn of Adoration

O Saviour, precious Saviour,

Whom, yet unseen, we love;

O Name of might and favor,

All other names above:

We worship Thee, we bless Thee,

To Thee alone we sing;

We praise Thee and confess Thee,

Our holy Lord and King.

O Bringer of salvation,

Who wondrously hast wrought,

Thyself the revelation

Of love beyond our thought;

We worship Thee, we bless Thee,

To Thee alone we sing;

We praise Thee and confess Thee,

Our gracious Lord and King.

In Thee all fulness dwelleth,

All grace and power divine;

The glory that excelleth,

O Son of God, is Thine.

We worship Thee, we bless Thee,

To Thee alone we sing;

We praise Thee and confess Thee,

Our glorious Lord and King.

O grant the consummation

Of this our song above,

In endless adoration

And everlasting love;

Then shall we praise and bless Thee

Where perfect praises ring,

And evermore confess Thee,

Our Saviour and our King.

Frances Ridley Havergal, 1870.

FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL, THE CONSECRATION POET

The beauty of a consecrated Christian life has probably never been more

perfectly revealed than in the life of Frances Ridley Havergal. To read

the story of her life is not only an inspiration, but it discloses at

once the secret of her beautiful hymns. She lived her hymns before she

wrote them.

This sweetest of all English singers was born at Astley, Worcestershire,

December 14, 1836. She was such a bright, happy and vivacious child that

her father, who was a minister of the Church of England and himself a

hymn-writer of no mean ability, called her "Little Quicksilver." Her

father was also a gifted musician, and this quality too was inherited by

the daughter, who became a brilliant pianist and passionately fond of

singing. However, because she looked upon her talents as gifts from God

to be used only in His service, she would sing nothing but sacred songs.

Her sunshiny nature became even more radiant following a deep religious

experience at the age of fourteen. Of this she afterwards wrote:

"I committed my soul to the Saviour, and earth and heaven seemed brighter

from that moment."

At the age of eighteen she was confirmed. It is evident that she looked

upon her confirmation as one of the most blessed experiences of her life,

for when she returned home she wrote in her manuscript book of poems:

"THINE FOR EVER"

Oh! Thine for ever, what a blessed thing

To be for ever His who died for me!

My Saviour, all my life Thy praise I'll sing,

Nor cease my song throughout eternity.

She also wrote a hymn on Confirmation, "In full and glad surrender." This

hymn her sister declared was "the epitome of her life and the focus of

its sunshine."

Four years later, while pursuing studies in Duesseldorf, Germany, Miss

Havergal chanced to see Sternberg's celebrated painting, _Ecce Homo_,

with the inscription beneath it:

This have I done for thee;

What hast thou done for me?

This was the same painting that once made such a profound impression on

the youthful mind of Count Zinzendorf. Miss Havergal was likewise deeply

moved, and immediately she seized a piece of scrap paper and a pencil and

wrote the famous hymn:

I gave My life for thee,

My precious blood I shed,

That thou might'st ransomed be,

And quickened from the dead.

I gave My life for thee:

What hast thou given for Me?

She thought the verses so poor after she had read them over that she

tossed them into a stove. The piece of paper, however, fell out untouched

by the flames. When she showed the words to her father a few months

later, he was so touched by them he immediately composed a tune by which

they could be sung.

This seems to have been one of the great turning points in the life of

the young hymnist. Her hymns from this period reveal her as a fully

surrendered soul, her one ambition being to devote all her talents to

Christ. She did not consider herself to be a poet of a high order, but so

filled was she with the love of Christ that her heart overflowed with

rapturous praise. Indeed, her hymns may be said to be the record of her

own spiritual experiences. Always she was proclaiming the evangel of full

and free salvation through Jesus' merits to all who believe.

She is often referred to as "the consecration poet." This is an allusion

to her famous consecration hymn, written in 1874:

Take my life, and let it be

Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.

Take my moments and my days;

Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

The circumstances that led to the writing of this hymn are interesting.

Miss Havergal was spending a few days in a home where there were ten

persons, some of them unconverted, and the others rather half-hearted

Christians who seemed to derive no joy from their religion. A great

desire came upon her that she might be instrumental in bringing them all

to true faith in Christ. Her prayer was wonderfully answered, and on the

last night of her stay her heart was so filled with joy and gratitude she

could not sleep. Instead, she spent the night writing the consecration

hymn.

Her prayer, "Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold,"

was not an idle petition with her. In August, 1878, she wrote to a

friend: "The Lord has shown me another little step, and of course I have

taken it, with extreme delight. 'Take my silver and my gold,' now means

shipping off all my ornaments to the Church Missionary House (including a

jewel cabinet that is really fit for a countess), where all will be

accepted and disposed of for me. I retain a brooch or two for daily wear,

which are memorials of my dear parents, also a locket containing a

portrait of my dear niece in heaven, my Evelyn, and her two rings; but

these I redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church Missionary

Society. Nearly fifty articles are being packed up. I don't think I ever

packed a box with such pleasure."

In addition to her other accomplishments, Miss Havergal was a brilliant

linguist, having mastered a number of modern languages. She was also

proficient in Greek and Hebrew. Her sister records that she always had

her Hebrew Bible and Greek New Testament at hand when she read the

Scriptures.

The study of the Bible was one of her chief joys. During summer she began

her Bible reading at seven in the morning, and in winter at eight

o'clock. When, on cold days, her sister would beg her to sit near the

fire, she would answer: "But then, Marie, I can't rule my lines neatly.

Just see what a find I've got. If one only searches, there are such

extraordinary things in the Bible!" Her Bible was freely underscored and

filled with notations. She was able to repeat from memory the four

Gospels, the Epistles, Revelation and all the Psalms, and in later years

she added Isaiah and the Minor Prophets to the list.

Miss Havergal was only forty-two at the time of her death, on June 3,

1879. When her attending physician told her that her condition was

serious, she replied, "If I am really going, it is too good to be true!"

At the bottom of her bed she had her favorite text placed where she could

see it: "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin."

She also asked that these words be inscribed upon her coffin and on her

tombstone. Once she exclaimed: "Splendid! To be so near the gates of

heaven!" And again, "So beautiful to go! So beautiful to go!" She died

while singing:

Jesus, I will trust Thee,

Trust Thee with my soul;

Guilty, lost, and helpless,

Thou hast made me whole:

There is none in heaven

Or on earth like Thee;

Thou hast died for sinners,

Therefore, Lord, for me!

Some of the more popular hymns by Miss Havergal, aside from those already

mentioned, are: "O Saviour, precious Saviour," "I am trusting Thee, Lord

Jesus," "Thou art coming, O my Saviour," "Lord, speak to me, that I may

speak," and "Singing for Jesus, our Saviour and King." While she was

writing the hymns that were destined to make her famous, another

remarkable young woman, "Fanny" Crosby, America's blind hymn-writer, was

also achieving renown by her hymns and songs. Miss Havergal and Miss

Crosby never met, but each was an ardent admirer of the other, and on one

occasion the English poet sent a very touching greeting to the American

hymn-writer. It read:

Dear blind sister over the sea,

An English heart goes forth to thee.

We are linked by a cable of faith and song,

Flashing bright sympathy swift along:

One in the East and one in the West

Singing for Him whom our souls love best;

"Singing for Jesus," telling His love

All the way to our home above,

Where the severing sea, with its restless tide,

Never shall hinder and never divide.

Sister! What shall our meeting be,

When our hearts shall sing, and our eyes shall see!

The Emblem That Survives

In the cross of Christ I glory,

Towering o'er the wrecks of time;

All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime.

When the woes of life o'ertake me,

Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,

Never shall the cross forsake me;

Lo! it glows with peace and joy.

When the sun of bliss is beaming

Light and love upon my way,

From the cross the radiance streaming

Adds new luster to the day.

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,

By the cross are sanctified;

Peace is there that knows no measure,

Joys that through all time abide.

John Bowring, 1825.

A UNITARIAN WHO GLORIED IN THE CROSS

Among the great hymns of the cross, Sir John Bowring's classic, "In the

cross of Christ I glory," occupies a foremost place. This is all the more

remarkable when we are reminded that Bowring was known as a Unitarian, a

communion which not only denies the deity of Christ, but ignores the true

significance of the cross. And yet he has given us a hymn that every

evangelical Christian rejoices to sing, for it is a hymn that magnifies

the cross and makes it the very center of the Christian religion.

In justice to Bowring it ought to be stated that he himself was "a

devoted and evangelical believer," and that his connection with the

Unitarian Church was merely accidental and nominal. When he died, in

1872, the opening line of his famous hymn was inscribed in bold letters

upon his tombstone:

In the Cross of Christ I Glory

Knowing these things, every true Christian will cherish an inner

conviction that the man who wrote so beautiful a tribute to Christ and

the cross did not really die but only fell asleep, trusting in the

atoning death of a Saviour who is God.

Bowring was a learned man, especially famed as a linguist. He is said to

have been able to speak twenty-two languages fluently, and was able to

converse in at least one hundred different tongues. He found special

delight in translating poems from other languages. His published works

contain translations from Bohemian, Slavonic, Russian, Servian, Polish,

Slovakian, Illyrian, Teutonic, Esthonian, Dutch, Frisian, Lettish,

Finnish, Hungarian, Biscayan, French, Provencal, Gascon, Italian,

Spanish, Portuguese, Catalonian and Galician sources.

Sir John was particularly fond of the study of hymns. Even at the age of

eighty years he was said to begin the day with some new song of

thanksgiving.

In addition to all his other accomplishments, Bowring had a very

distinguished career in English politics. He was twice a member of the

British parliament. Later he became consul general for the English

government at Hong Kong, China. During this period he chanced to sail

down the Chinese coast to Macao, where nearly 400 years earlier the

Portuguese explorer, Vasco da Gama, had built an imposing cathedral. The

structure had been wrecked by a typhoon, but the tower still remained,

and surmounting it a great bronze cross, sharply outlined against the

sky. Far above the wreckage surrounding it, the cross seemed to Bowring

to be a symbol of Christ's Kingdom, glorious and eternal, living through

the centuries while other kingdoms have come and gone. So inspired was he

by the sight, the words of the hymn seemed to suggest themselves to him

at once, and in a short while a famous poem had been written.

The plan of the hymn is interesting. The first stanza declares the cross

of Christ to be the central fact in divine revelation and the one theme

in which the Christian never ceases to glory. The second stanza pictures

the cross as the Christian's refuge and comfort in time of affliction,

while the third tells how it also adds luster to the days of joy and

sunshine. The final stanza summarizes these two ideas, and the hymn

closes by telling of the eternal character of the peace and joy that flow

from the cross.

An interesting story is told of this hymn in connection with the Boxer

uprising in China. All foreigners in Peking had been besieged by the

infuriated Chinese for several weeks. When the allied troops finally

reached the city and the terrible strain was ended, the Christian

missionaries gathered in the Temple of Heaven, the remarkable pagan

shrine where the Emperor of China was accustomed to worship, and, lifting

up their voices in thanksgiving, the messengers of the cross sang:

In the cross of Christ I glory,

Towering o'er the wrecks of time;

All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime.

Sir John Bowring eventually became governor of Hong Kong, and wielded

great influence in the Orient. He did much to promote Christian

benevolences and other enterprises for the good of the peoples in the Far

East. When his health began to fail, his friends warned him to cease some

of his activities, but in vain. His answer was, "I must do my work while

life remains to me; I may not long be here."

He was often gratified to hear his hymns sung at unexpected times and in

unusual places. In 1825 he wrote a poem beginning with the words,

"Watchman, tell us of the night." He did not know it was being used as a

hymn until ten years later, when he heard it sung by Christian

missionaries in Turkey. Among other hymns of Bowring that have come into

general use is the beautiful one beginning with the words:

God is Love; His mercy brightens

All the path in which we rove;

Bliss He wakes, and woe He lightens:

God is Wisdom, God is Love.

A Hymn That Opens Hearts

O Jesus, Thou art standing

Outside the fast-closed door,

In lowly patience waiting

To pass the threshold o'er:

Shame on us, Christian brothers,

His Name and sign who bear:

O shame, thrice shame upon us,

To keep Him standing there!

O Jesus, Thou art knocking;

And lo, that hand is scarred,

And thorns Thy brow encircle,

And tears Thy face have marred:

O love that passeth knowledge,

So patiently to wait!

O sin that hath no equal,

So fast to bar the gate!

O Jesus, Thou art pleading

In accents meek and low,

"I died for you, My children,

And will ye treat Me so?"

O Lord, with shame and sorrow

We open now the door;

Dear Saviour, enter, enter,

And leave us nevermore.

William Walsham How, 1867.

A MODEL HYMN BY A MODEL MINISTER

It is a significant fact that many of the greatest hymns of the Church

have been written by pastors who have been noted for their zeal in

winning souls. Their hymns have been a part of their spiritual stratagem

to draw the wayward and erring into the gospel net. Bishop William

Walsham How, one of the more recent hymnists of England, is a shining

example of true devotion in a Christian shepherd.

Bishop How once gave a striking description of the characteristics which

he believed should be found in an ideal minister of the gospel. "Such a

minister," he said, "should be a man pure, holy, and spotless in his

life; a man of much prayer; in character meek, lowly, and infinitely

compassionate; of tenderest love to all; full of sympathy for every pain

and sorrow, and devoting his days and nights to lightening the burdens of

humanity; utterly patient of insult and enmity; utterly fearless in

speaking the truth and rebuking sin; ever ready to answer every call, to

go wherever bidden, in order to do good; wholly without thought of self;

making himself the servant of all; patient, gentle, and untiring in

dealing with the souls he would save; bearing with ignorance, wilfulness,

slowness, cowardice, in those of whom he expects most; sacrificing all,

even life itself, if need be, to save some."

Those who knew How best said it was almost a perfect description of his

own life and character.

When Queen Victoria, in 1879, made him Bishop of Bedford, with East

London as his diocese, he was tireless in his efforts to alleviate

conditions in that poverty-stricken district. When he first began his

work in the slums, people would point to him and say, "There goes a

bishop." But as they came to know him better, they said, "There goes

_the_ bishop." And finally, when they learned to love him, they

exclaimed, "There goes _our_ bishop."

Bishop How's most celebrated hymn is "O Jesus, Thou art standing." It is

based on the impressive words of the Saviour in the Book of Revelation,

"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: If any man hear my voice, and

open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with

me."

Though the language of the hymn is commonplace, there are striking

expressions here, as in How's other hymns, that arrest the attention of

the worshiper. In the first stanza we are reminded that there are many

nominal Christians bearing "His Name and sign" who yet are keeping the

waiting, patient Saviour outside a "fast-closed door." In the succeeding

verse we are told that it is sin that bars the gate. Then there is the

concluding stanza with its gripping appeal, picturing the surrender of

the human heart to the pleading Christ.

The imagery in the hymn was, no doubt, suggested by Holman Hunt's

celebrated painting, "The Light of the World." This was executed by Hunt

in 1855, while the hymn by How was written twelve years later. Those who

are familiar with the Hunt masterpiece will remember how it pictures the

Saviour standing patiently and knocking earnestly at a fast-closed door.

The high weeds, the tangled growth of vines, as well as the unpicked

fruit lying on the ground before the door, suggest that it has not been

opened for a long time. A bat is hovering in the vines overhead.

Ruskin tells us that the white robe worn by the heavenly Stranger shows

us that He is a Prophet, the jeweled robe and breastplate indicate a

Priest, and the crown of gold a King. The crown of thorns is now bearing

leaves "for the healing of the nations." In His scarred hand He carries a

lighted lantern, signifying "the Light of the world."

When Holman Hunt's picture was first exhibited, it excited considerable

comment. Some one, however, ventured the criticism that there was a fault

in the painting inasmuch as Hunt had forgotten to indicate a latch on the

door.

"There is no mistake," said the great artist. "I did not put a latch on

the outside of the door because it can only be opened from within. The

Lord Jesus Christ Himself cannot enter an unwilling heart; it must be

opened to Him. He must be invited to enter."

Bishop How's hymn pictures in language what Holman Hunt put into his

celebrated canvass.

"O Jesus, Thou art standing" is not the only famous hymn written by

Bishop How. His lovely New Year's hymn, "Jesus, Name of wondrous love,"

and his All Saints' hymn, "For all the saints who from their labors

rest," have won a place forever in English hymnody. "O Word of God

Incarnate," "We give Thee but Thine own" and "Summer suns are glowing"

also have found their way into a large number of the standard hymn-books.

The talented bishop died in the year 1897, mourned not only by those who

had learned to love him because of his noble Christian character, but

also by those who had come to know him through his beautiful hymns. With

the passing of only three decades since his death, there is increasing

evidence that Bishop How will be numbered among the great hymn-writers of

the Christian Church.

A Blind Man's Hymn of Faith

O Love that wilt not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in Thee:

I give Thee back the life I owe,

That in Thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.

O Light that followest all my way,

I yield my flickering torch to Thee:

My heart restores its borrowed ray,

That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day

May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to Thee:

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the promise is not vain

That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,

I dare not ask to fly from Thee:

I lay in dust life's glory dead,

And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall endless be.

George Matheson, 1882.

MATHESON AND HIS SONG IN THE NIGHT

The most recent of English hymn-writers to gain recognition in the

standard hymn-books of the Church is George Matheson. The fame of this

man will probably rest on a single hymn, "O Love that wilt not let me

go," written on a summer evening in 1882.

A deeper appreciation and understanding will be felt for this hymn when

we know that it is truly a "song in the night," for Matheson was blind

when he wrote it.

Born in Glasgow, Scotland, March 27, 1842, Matheson enjoyed partial

vision as a boy. However, after he entered Glasgow University at the age

of fifteen, his sight began to fail and he became totally blind.

Nevertheless, in spite of this handicap, he was a brilliant scholar and

graduated with honor in 1861. Having decided to enter the ministry, he

remained four additional years for theological studies.

It was while he was parish minister at Innellan, a seaport summer resort

in Scotland, that the famous hymn was written. He tells the story in his

own words:

"It was written in the manse of my former parish (Innellan) one summer

evening in 1882. It was composed with extreme rapidity; it seemed to me

that its construction occupied only a few minutes, and I felt myself

rather in the position of one who was being dictated to than an original

artist. I was suffering from extreme mental distress, and the hymn was

the fruit of pain."

Many conjectures have been made regarding the cause of the "mental

distress" from which the author was suffering. Because of the opening

line, "O Love that wilt not let me go," it has been suggested that

Matheson had been bitterly disappointed in his hopes of marrying a young

woman to whom he had become deeply attached. It is said that her refusal

to marry him was due to his blindness.

Although this story cannot be vouched for, there are many significant

hints in the hymn to his sad affliction, such as the "flickering torch"

and the "borrowed ray" in the second stanza, the beautiful thought of

tracing "the rainbow through the rain" in the third stanza, and the

"cross" referred to in the final stanza. The hymn is so artistically

constructed and is so rich in poetic thought and symbolic meaning, it

will well repay careful study.

Despite his handicap, Dr. Matheson was blessed with a fruitful ministry.

A devoted sister who had learned Greek, Latin and Hebrew in order to aid

him in his theological studies remained his co-worker and helper

throughout life. In all of his pastoral calls she was his constant guide.

During the early part of his ministry, he wrote all his sermons in full.

He possessed such a remarkable memory that after a sermon had been read

to him twice, he was able to repeat it perfectly. After he had followed

this practice for twelve years, he suffered a complete collapse of memory

one Sunday in the midst of a sermon. Unable to proceed, he calmly

announced a hymn and sat down. At the conclusion of the singing he told

the congregation what had happened, and then preached a sermon of great

appeal from another text.

After a ministry at Innellan lasting for eighteen years, he was called as

pastor of St. Bernard's church in Edinburgh. Here he remained for

thirteen years, attracting large multitudes by his preaching.

The later years of his life were spent in literary work. He was the

author of several volumes in prose, among them a very fine devotional

book called "Moments on the Mount." He fell asleep August 28, 1906, to

await the break of eternity's dawn, confident in the assurance that

... the promise is not vain

That morn shall tearless be.