(Vol. v., pp. 30. 113.)
As no reply has been given to your various correspondents on the above
subject by one of the Brethren's church, permit a friend to give a few
particulars with which he has become acquainted.
The first _authorised_ English edition of the Moravian hymn-book is that
of 1754, in the preface to which it is stated, that though there had
been some English Collections of Hymns, partly original, and partly
translations from the German, in use among the societies in union with
the Brethren's church, "these were never regularly authorised, nor
always passably reviewed." This book is a bulky 8vo.: it is in two
parts; the first consisting of 380 pages, and the second of upwards of
400; together containing about 1200 hymns and Scripture anthems. The
next edition appeared in 1769; and a third twenty years later. There
have been several editions during the present century, in 8vo., 12mo.,
and 18mo., the last of which was published in 1819; and the preface
states that the whole of the hymns had been revised by "Brother James
Montgomery" of Sheffield.
To the inquiry of C. B. as to the honesty of _Rimius_, I would refer him
to an excellent essay by the Rev. P. Latrobe, appended to Jackson's
translation of the _Life of Count Zinzendorf_, by Spangenberg. (London,
1838.)
The memory of your Thurles correspondent is at fault, as may be
supposed, from a twenty-five years' recollection. Bishop Gambold could
not have published a Moravian hymn-book in 1738, for he did not join the
Brethren's church till November, 1742; nor was he consecrated a bishop
till 1754.--See his Life, appended to his _Works_, printed by S. Hazard,
of Bath, 1789.
When Southey's animadversions appeared, they were replied to by "William
Okely, M.D., Presbyter of the Brethren's Church, and Minister of their
Congregation at Bristol," in a letter written in a good-humoured style,
yet caustic withal. Unfortunately, as long as Southey's work lasts the
poison will remain, while the antidote will be forgotten. The Doctor
observes:
"What could possibly induce you, with such ill-judged eagerness,
to rake into the kennels of oblivion? Why do you exhibit among
your authorities the publications of such a vile fellow as Rimius?
Was you not informed that he wrote with all the rancour of a
renegado, and all the spite of an enemy? Is such a man proper to
be publicly called forth as a witness against a church which he
had deserted from no excess of virtue; against a church which,
yourself being judge, has, by its silent but honorable exertions,
first glorified God among the heathen, and then stimulated the
rest of the Christian world to engage in similar attempts; against
a church which, according to your own representations, possesses
in herself the rare principle of gradual melioration, and, by a
constant course of good living, has, in the face of watchful
enemies, been able to rise superior to the consequences of former
acknowledged indiscretions in language? Did you know that those
writings were sinking fast into deserved neglect? That the copies
had become so rare, that it was scarcely possible to obtain one?
What merit, I ask you, is there in such publications, that you
should thus studiously fish them out of the mud which was already
closing over them, and after carefully scraping off the filth and
mould which they had contracted, spread over them a coating of
your own poetical varnish?...
"What motive shall we assign for your conduct? You could not have
intended to warn the Christian world against indulging in similar
imprudences; for you well know that in the present day, society
has not the smallest tendency that way. You could not mean to warn
the Brethren against the recurrence of the same absurdities; for
you acknowledge yourself that they have already for a long period
risen superior to them; and instead of the least tendency to
relapse, they have repeatedly and publicly confessed their
mistake, and have suffered so much, and such often unmerited
obloquy, on account of their long-exploded phraseology, that they
are more likely in future to keep too far within bounds from over
caution, than once more wildly to overleap them.
"The only way to account for your conduct in this respect, is to
suppose it owing entirely to inadvertence. You were merely amusing
yourself, like the boys in the fable, unmindful that your sport
might perhaps prove death to a set of poor frogs. But ought you
not to have remembered the golden rule of Christ, never to do unto
others what you would not choose to have done to yourself? Are you
not still smarting under the blows you so lately received from the
battle-axe of Wat Tyler? Believe me, sir, communities have feeling
as well as individuals. In the days of your ignorance, as you will
now call them, you wrote what you are at present ashamed of. To
have composed Wat Tyler, you feel to be little congenial with the
spirit that ought to dwell in a poet-laureate. When that
unfortunate effusion of your pen was officiously dragged into
light, did it not touch you to the quick? And why? Because you
repented that you had ever written it. _We_ repent of having
written and said those things which occasioned Rimius' trumpet to
sound. We have repeatedly declared that we do repent, and our
conduct has proved the truth of our declaration. Must we not,
therefore, feel pain at seeing our old delinquencies, long
forgiven and forgotten, once more coupled with our name by a man
of your respectable character and abilities? Is not the pain we
feel the very impress of what you have felt, and still feel, on
the score of Wat Tyler?"
From a Pamphlet printed at Bristol, 1820.