IVEighteenth-century Hymns

Stronger than death His love is found.Not to be bought with goods:Nor quenched with waters, nor be drownedWith whatsoever floods.O draw me, my dear Saviour,With these strong cords of love,And then will we go after TheeAs fast as we can move.[86]

Stronger than death His love is found.

Not to be bought with goods:

Nor quenched with waters, nor be drowned

With whatsoever floods.

O draw me, my dear Saviour,

With these strong cords of love,

And then will we go after Thee

As fast as we can move.[86]

Although the seventeenth century is poor in hymn-writers, we find some grand and beautiful hymns written by poets and men of letters. There is, for instance, Sir Thomas Browne’s evening hymn, of which he says, ‘This is the dormitive I take to bedward: I need no otherlaudanumthan this to make me sleep; after which I close mine eyes in security, content to take my leave of the sun, and sleep unto the resurrection.’[87]

The night is come, like to the day;Depart not Thou, great God away.Let not my sins, black as the night,Eclipse the lustre of Thy light.Keep still in my horizon; for to meThe sun makes not the day, but Thee.

The night is come, like to the day;

Depart not Thou, great God away.

Let not my sins, black as the night,

Eclipse the lustre of Thy light.

Keep still in my horizon; for to me

The sun makes not the day, but Thee.

Thou whose nature cannot sleep,On my temples sentry keep;Guard me ’gainst those watchful foes,Whose eyes are open while mine close.Let no dreams my head infest,But such as Jacob’s temples blest.

Thou whose nature cannot sleep,

On my temples sentry keep;

Guard me ’gainst those watchful foes,

Whose eyes are open while mine close.

Let no dreams my head infest,

But such as Jacob’s temples blest.

While I do rest, my soul advance:Make my sleep a holy trance;That I may, my rest being wrought,Awake into some holy thought,And with as active vigour runMy course as doth the nimble sun.

While I do rest, my soul advance:

Make my sleep a holy trance;

That I may, my rest being wrought,

Awake into some holy thought,

And with as active vigour run

My course as doth the nimble sun.

Sleep is a death—O make me tryBy sleeping, what it is to die!And as gently lay my headOn my grave, as now my bed.Howe’er I rest, great God, let meAwake again at last with Thee.

Sleep is a death—O make me try

By sleeping, what it is to die!

And as gently lay my head

On my grave, as now my bed.

Howe’er I rest, great God, let me

Awake again at last with Thee.

And thus assured, behold I lieSecurely, or to wake or die.These are my drowsy days; in vainI do not wake to sleep again:O come that hour, when I shall neverSleep again, but wake for ever!

And thus assured, behold I lie

Securely, or to wake or die.

These are my drowsy days; in vain

I do not wake to sleep again:

O come that hour, when I shall never

Sleep again, but wake for ever!

Another great name is that of John Donne, Dean of St. Paul’s, and friend of James I, who wrote one of the truest and most affecting hymns of that or any other century. If its form prevents its being sung inmodern congregations, it is at least one of those spiritual songs which we should preserve for the hour of private devotion.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,Which was my sin, though it were done before?Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,And do run still, though still I do deplore?When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,

Which was my sin, though it were done before?

Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,

And do run still, though still I do deplore?

When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,

For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have wonOthers to sin, and made my sin their door?Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shunA year or two, but wallowed in a score?When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won

Others to sin, and made my sin their door?

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun

A year or two, but wallowed in a score?

When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,

For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I’ve spunMy last thread, I shall perish on the shore;But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy SonShall shine as He shines now, and heretofore;And, having done that, Thou hast done;I fear no more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I’ve spun

My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;

But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son

Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore;

And, having done that, Thou hast done;

I fear no more.

‘I have the rather mentioned this hymn,’ says Izaak Walton, ‘for that he caused it to be set to a most grave and solemn tune, and to be often sung to the organ by the choristers of St. Paul’s Church in his own hearing; especially at the evening service, and at his return from his customary devotions in that place, did occasionally say to a friend: “The words of this hymn have restored to me the same thoughts of joy that possessed my soul in my sickness when I composed it. And, O, the power of Church music! that harmony added to this hymn has raised the affections of my heart and quickened my graces of zeal and gratitude;and I observe that I always return from paying this public duty of prayer and praise to God, with an unexpressible tranquillity of mind, and a willingness to leave the world.”’

Ben Jonson’s lovely Christmas hymn is to be found in a few hymn-books to-day. Is it too much to hope that it may yet become a familiar carol of the Nativity?

I sing the Birth was born to-night,The Author both of life and light;The angels so did sound it:—And like the ravished shepherds said,Who saw the light, and were afraid,Yet searched, and true they found it.

I sing the Birth was born to-night,

The Author both of life and light;

The angels so did sound it:—

And like the ravished shepherds said,

Who saw the light, and were afraid,

Yet searched, and true they found it.

The Son of God, the eternal King,That did us all salvation bring,And freed the soul from danger;He whom the whole world could not take,The Word, which heaven and earth did make,Was now laid in a manger.

The Son of God, the eternal King,

That did us all salvation bring,

And freed the soul from danger;

He whom the whole world could not take,

The Word, which heaven and earth did make,

Was now laid in a manger.

What comfort by Him do we win,Who made Himself the price of sin,To make us heirs of glory!To see this Babe, all innocence,A martyr born in our defence!—Can man forget this story?

What comfort by Him do we win,

Who made Himself the price of sin,

To make us heirs of glory!

To see this Babe, all innocence,

A martyr born in our defence!—

Can man forget this story?

Robert Herrick’s (1591-1674) quaint ‘Litany to the Holy Spirit’ yields a few verses to some of our best modern collections, but his irrepressible humour makes several verses impossible, and his references to ‘furies in a shole,’ to ‘flames and hellish cares,’ shut out others. In hisNoble Numbersare many fine verses and epigrams, but he is not a hymn-writer.

George Herbert (1593-1632) did not write hymns to be sung in church, though his ‘Antiphon’ and ‘The Elixir’ are, for love of their author, found in many modern hymn-books, and ‘Praise’ is also beautifully possible as a hymn. Yet his loveliest poems cannot be adapted to congregational use. He is the greatest of the poets of the sanctuary, but he is not a chorister. John Wesley and George Rawson tried to make Herbert’s poems into hymns, but with no great success—though in one or two instances Wesley came near it.[88]In any collection of religious poetry for use in the hour of private devotion, Herbert would rank among the chief contributors, and it is well that he should be represented in our hymn-books, if only that he may be remembered and honoured by our children.[89]He is the chief singer of a school of poets in which Henry Vaughan and Christina Rossetti are distinguished and worthy disciples.

I give three of Herbert’s poems. The first because it is an ideal example of his quaint but exquisite pathos, and of his gracious, humble, affectionate devotion to his Lord; the others because they are the most hymn-like of his poems.

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,Guilty of dust and sin.But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slackFrom my first entrance in,Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,If I lacked any thing.

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,

Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack

From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,

If I lacked any thing.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:Love said, You shall be he.I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my Dear,I cannot look on Thee.Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,Who made the eyes, but I?

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:

Love said, You shall be he.

I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my Dear,

I cannot look on Thee.

Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,

Who made the eyes, but I?

Truth, Lord, but I have marred them: let my shameGo where it doth deserve.And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?My Dear, then I will serve.You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:So I did sit and eat.

Truth, Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame

Go where it doth deserve.

And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?

My Dear, then I will serve.

You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:

So I did sit and eat.

King of Glory, King of Peace,I will love Thee:And that love may never cease,I will move Thee.

King of Glory, King of Peace,

I will love Thee:

And that love may never cease,

I will move Thee.

Thou hast granted my request,Thou hast heard me:Thou didst note my working breast,Thou hast spared me.

Thou hast granted my request,

Thou hast heard me:

Thou didst note my working breast,

Thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost artI will sing Thee,And the cream of all my heartI will bring Thee.

Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing Thee,

And the cream of all my heart

I will bring Thee.

Though my sins against me cried,Thou didst clear me;And alone, when they replied,Thou didst hear me.

Though my sins against me cried,

Thou didst clear me;

And alone, when they replied,

Thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,I will praise Thee.In my heart, though not in heaven,I can raise Thee.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,

I will praise Thee.

In my heart, though not in heaven,

I can raise Thee.

Thou grew’st soft and moist with tears,Thou relentedst:And when Justice called for fears,Thou dissentedst.

Thou grew’st soft and moist with tears,

Thou relentedst:

And when Justice called for fears,

Thou dissentedst.

Small it is, in this poor sortTo enrol Thee:Even eternity’s too shortTo extol Thee.

Small it is, in this poor sort

To enrol Thee:

Even eternity’s too short

To extol Thee.

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:Such a Way, as gives us breath:Such a Truth, as ends all strife:Such a Life, as killeth death.

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:

Such a Way, as gives us breath:

Such a Truth, as ends all strife:

Such a Life, as killeth death.

Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:Such a Light, as shows a feast:Such a Feast, as mends in length:Such a Strength, as makes His guest.

Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:

Such a Light, as shows a feast:

Such a Feast, as mends in length:

Such a Strength, as makes His guest.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:Such a Joy, as none can move:Such a Love, as none can part:Such a Heart, as joys in love.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:

Such a Joy, as none can move:

Such a Love, as none can part:

Such a Heart, as joys in love.

After Herbert comes Henry Vaughan (1621-95), ‘the Silurist,’ or South Wales man, who says that hismaster was ‘the blessed man, Mr. George Herbert, whose holy life and verse gained many pious converts, of whom I am the least.’ Vaughan had his devoted admirers, but his verse never attained anything approaching to the popularity of Herbert’s. It was long the fashion to ignore or disparage him, and it was not till Henry Francis Lyte republished hisSacred Poems and Private Ejaculations, with a brief memoir, that he came to his rightful place amongst the minor, but not to be forgotten, poets of the seventeenth century. He was a mystic, and had visions Blake might have envied.

I saw Eternity the other night,Like a great ring of pure and endless light,All calm as it was bright:And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years,Driven by the spheres,Like a vast shadow moved, in which the worldAnd all her train were hurled.

I saw Eternity the other night,

Like a great ring of pure and endless light,

All calm as it was bright:

And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years,

Driven by the spheres,

Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world

And all her train were hurled.

Vaughan’s songs have the marks of the true Christian poet—intense devotion to Christ, humility, ecstasy. His best-known hymns are—‘My soul, there is a country,’ and ‘Up to those bright and gladsome hills’ (Ps. cxxi.). I give one less often quoted. Vaughan’s title is

King of Mercy, King of Love,In whom I live, in whom I move,Perfect what Thou has begun,Let no night put out this Sun.

King of Mercy, King of Love,

In whom I live, in whom I move,

Perfect what Thou has begun,

Let no night put out this Sun.

Grant I may, my chief desire,Long for Thee, to Thee aspire.Let my youth, my bloom of days,Be my comfort, and Thy praise;

Grant I may, my chief desire,

Long for Thee, to Thee aspire.

Let my youth, my bloom of days,

Be my comfort, and Thy praise;

That hereafter, when I lookO’er the sullied, sinful book,I may find Thy hand thereinWiping out my shame and sin.

That hereafter, when I look

O’er the sullied, sinful book,

I may find Thy hand therein

Wiping out my shame and sin.

O! it is Thy only artTo reduce a stubborn heart:And since Thine is victory,Strongholds should belong to Thee.

O! it is Thy only art

To reduce a stubborn heart:

And since Thine is victory,

Strongholds should belong to Thee.

Lord, then take it, leave it notUnto my dispose or lot;But since I would not have it mine,O my God, let it be Thine.

Lord, then take it, leave it not

Unto my dispose or lot;

But since I would not have it mine,

O my God, let it be Thine.

The following for Trinity Sunday is very bold—

O holy, blessed, glorious Three,Eternal witnesses that beIn heaven, One God in Trinity!

O holy, blessed, glorious Three,

Eternal witnesses that be

In heaven, One God in Trinity!

As here on earth, when men withstood,The Spirit, Water, and the Blood,Made my Lord’s Incarnation good:

As here on earth, when men withstood,

The Spirit, Water, and the Blood,

Made my Lord’s Incarnation good:

So let the antitypes in meElected, bought, and sealed for free,Be owned, saved, sainted by You Three!

So let the antitypes in me

Elected, bought, and sealed for free,

Be owned, saved, sainted by You Three!

Herbert and Vaughan were in the seventeenth century what Heber and Keble were in the nineteenth.

They set the tone of the Church of England, and they revealed with no inefficient or temporary effect to theuncultured and the unlearned the true refinement of worship. They united delicacy of taste in the choice of ornament and of music with culture of expression and of reserve, and they showed that this was not incompatible with devoted work and life.[90]

Henry More (1614-87) ‘the Platonist,’ whom Professor Palgrave calls ‘the most interesting figure among our poetical mystics,’ owes his place in our hymn-books to John Wesley, who made from one of More’s ‘Divine Hymns’ two numbers in hisCollection

Father, if justly still we claim,

and a fine missionary hymn

On all the earth Thy Spirit shower,The earth in righteousness renew,Thy kingdom come and hell’s o’erpower,And to Thy sceptre all subdue.

On all the earth Thy Spirit shower,

The earth in righteousness renew,

Thy kingdom come and hell’s o’erpower,

And to Thy sceptre all subdue.

John Norris (1657-1711), who succeeded—sixty years intervening—George Herbert as Parson of Bemerton, was a Platonist of the school of More, for whom he had unbounded admiration, saying

Others in learning’s chorus bear their part,And the great work distinctly share:Thou our great catholic professor art,All science is annexed to thy unerring chair.

Others in learning’s chorus bear their part,

And the great work distinctly share:

Thou our great catholic professor art,

All science is annexed to thy unerring chair.

John Wesley and Dr. Martineau tried to make Norris’s poems available for congregational use, andhis name is linked with those of Ken and Mason in the preface to the Moravian book of 1754, but he can never take a place among hymn-writers.

Bishop Jeremy Taylor (1613-67) wrote a number of hymns, most of them being published in hisGolden Grove, but they are unsuited for congregational use. His ‘Advent Hymn’ has, however, been adapted with admirable skill, and has a place in many hymnals. It is perhaps as good a specimen of this kind of ‘translation’ as can be found. I give Taylor’s original first, and afterwards the version of theSarum Hymnal, which is said to have been made by Earl Nelson. There is another good version in theLeeds Hymn-book, which has been adopted by Mr. Horder and others.

Lord, come away,Why dost Thou stay?Thy road is ready: and Thy paths, made strait,With longing expectation waitThe consecration of Thy beauteous feet.Ride on triumphantly; behold we layOur lusts and proud wills in Thy way.Hosanna! welcome to our hearts. Lord, hereThou hast a temple too, and full as dearAs that of Sion; and as full of sin;Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein,Enter, and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor;Crucify them, that they may never moreProfane that holy place,Where Thou hast chose to set Thy face.And then if our stiff tongues shall beMute in the praises of Thy Deity,The stones out of the temple wallShall cry aloud, and callHosanna! and Thy glorious footsteps greet.

Lord, come away,

Why dost Thou stay?

Thy road is ready: and Thy paths, made strait,

With longing expectation wait

The consecration of Thy beauteous feet.

Ride on triumphantly; behold we lay

Our lusts and proud wills in Thy way.

Hosanna! welcome to our hearts. Lord, here

Thou hast a temple too, and full as dear

As that of Sion; and as full of sin;

Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein,

Enter, and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor;

Crucify them, that they may never more

Profane that holy place,

Where Thou hast chose to set Thy face.

And then if our stiff tongues shall be

Mute in the praises of Thy Deity,

The stones out of the temple wall

Shall cry aloud, and call

Hosanna! and Thy glorious footsteps greet.

. . . . .

Draw nigh to Thy Jerusalem, O Lord,Thy faithful people cry with one accord:Ride on triumphantly! Behold we layOur passions, lusts, and proud wills in Thy way!

Draw nigh to Thy Jerusalem, O Lord,

Thy faithful people cry with one accord:

Ride on triumphantly! Behold we lay

Our passions, lusts, and proud wills in Thy way!

Thy road is ready; and Thy paths, made straight,With longing expectation seem to waitThe consecration of Thy beauteous feet,And silently Thy promised advent greet!

Thy road is ready; and Thy paths, made straight,

With longing expectation seem to wait

The consecration of Thy beauteous feet,

And silently Thy promised advent greet!

Hosanna! Welcome to our hearts! for hereThou hast a temple too, as Sion dear;Yes, dear as Sion, and as full of sin:Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein.

Hosanna! Welcome to our hearts! for here

Thou hast a temple too, as Sion dear;

Yes, dear as Sion, and as full of sin:

Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein.

Enter and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor!O’erthrow them all, that they may never moreProfane, with traffic vile, that holy place,Where Thou hast chosen, Lord, to set Thy face.

Enter and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor!

O’erthrow them all, that they may never more

Profane, with traffic vile, that holy place,

Where Thou hast chosen, Lord, to set Thy face.

And then, if our stiff tongues shall faithlesslyBe mute in praises of Thy Deity,The very temple stones shall loud repeatHosanna! and Thy glorious footsteps greet!

And then, if our stiff tongues shall faithlessly

Be mute in praises of Thy Deity,

The very temple stones shall loud repeat

Hosanna! and Thy glorious footsteps greet!

Near the end of the seventeenth century the New Version of the Psalms appeared, under royal and episcopal sanction, and began at once to supplant the Old Version. The authors were both Irishmen. Nahum Tate (1652-1715) was a very minor poet, whobecame Laureate in 1690. Nicholas Brady (1659-1726) was, like Charles Wesley, a scholar of Westminster and student of Christ Church. He entered the Church in Ireland, but in later life held various livings in England, being at one time Vicar of Stratford-on-Avon. The New Version was published in 1696.

Many attempts had been made to depose the Old Version from its supreme position as the hymn-book of the English Church, and some by men of much greater gifts than Sternhold, Hopkins, or any of their fellows. But the innate conservatism of Englishmen, and especially of English Churchmen, gave the Old Version a long life. Moreover, no version was sufficiently superior to it to win wide approval until Tate and Brady produced the New Version and secured royal ‘permission’ for its use in churches. Without this ‘permission’ it would probably never have dislodged the Old Version, though it owes something to intrinsic merit. Compared with the great hymn-writers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Tate and Brady are, as a rule, dull, pretentious, diffuse; but as compared with their predecessors and the vast majority of their successors, their version deserves more consideration than it usually receives. Even in our own day there are more of their psalms in our best hymn-books than there are of Keble’s. It is unfortunate that neither of the authors was a man for whom it is possible to feel any great regard, or in whom one can take an interest.

To say nothing of

While shepherds watched their flocks by night,

what Church would willingly give up

As pants the hart for cooling streams,

or—

Through all the changing scenes of life?

There is about such songs a gracious simplicity worthy of John Newton, who might well have written—

O make but trial of His love,Experience will decide.How blessed they are, and only they,Who in His truth confide.

O make but trial of His love,

Experience will decide.

How blessed they are, and only they,

Who in His truth confide.

or—

Extend to me that favour, Lord,Thou to Thy chosen dost afford:When Thou return’st to set them free,Let Thy salvation visit me.

Extend to me that favour, Lord,

Thou to Thy chosen dost afford:

When Thou return’st to set them free,

Let Thy salvation visit me.

O may I worthy prove to seeThy saints in full prosperity;That I the joyful choir may join,And count Thy people’s triumph mine.

O may I worthy prove to see

Thy saints in full prosperity;

That I the joyful choir may join,

And count Thy people’s triumph mine.

Dr. Watts and the Wesleys did not scruple to borrow from the New Version, and Watts, with characteristic modesty, is content to yield them ‘the preference of’ their ‘poesy’ in some of their compositions.

Whatever its intrinsic merit or demerit, the New Version rendered an important service in breaking themonopoly enjoyed by the Old Version, and thus preparing the way for a larger view of Christian psalmody.

One condemned to tread the waste of metrical Psalters will consider it an advance on its predecessors, suffering more from its own success than comparison with them.... They asserted successfully, and with an emphasis scarcely known before, literary and poetical excellence (according to their light) as a principle of translation, and the precedent thus set was seldom ignored afterwards.[91]

Tate, being Laureate, naturally considered the state occasions on which psalms were to be used. The sentiments, at least, of his version of Ps. cl., which is appointed for the day of the Sovereign’s accession, are excellent.

The private slanderer shall beIn public justice doomed by me.From haughty looks I’ll turn aside,And mortify the heart of pride.

The private slanderer shall be

In public justice doomed by me.

From haughty looks I’ll turn aside,

And mortify the heart of pride.

But honesty, called from her cellIn splendour at my court shall dwell.Who virtue’s practice make their care,Shall have the first preferments there.

But honesty, called from her cell

In splendour at my court shall dwell.

Who virtue’s practice make their care,

Shall have the first preferments there.

No politics shall recommendHis country’s foe to be my friend:None e’er shall to my favour riseBy flattering or malicious lies.

No politics shall recommend

His country’s foe to be my friend:

None e’er shall to my favour rise

By flattering or malicious lies.

All those who wicked courses take,An early sacrifice I’ll make;Cut off, destroy, till none remainGod’s holy city to profane.

All those who wicked courses take,

An early sacrifice I’ll make;

Cut off, destroy, till none remain

God’s holy city to profane.

With the publication of the New Version a new era began. It was to be the last ‘authorized’ metrical version. Hymns of the modern type were beginning to be known, and soon there would be hymns in abundance.[92]

The greater sacred poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries spoke, for the most part, to themselves and to God; their hymns are of the study and the oratory. But with the eighteenth century a new era began. Its chief hymn-writers were ministers of religion, accustomed to offer prayer and praise, not only for themselves, but for the people. Their hymns were for the congregation and the religious society. They were written with the distinct intention of providing for common need; and in the Nonconformist Churches hymns supplied the place of the rejected liturgy, enabling the congregation to unite in praise and prayer.

The earlier centuries give us many rich devotional poems, few of which are entirely suited to the public worship of our time. But we now reach, what George Macdonald calls, ‘the zone of hymn-writing,’ and are embarrassed by the plenteousness of the stores available for use in the service of the sanctuary. Moreover, by this time modern English has becomefairly established, and there are few archaic expressions to distract the unlearned.

Whatever may be said of the metrical Psalters, no one can doubt that we are in an ampler, purer air when we listen to Isaac Watts (1674-1748). Brighter days were dawning for the religious life of England, and especially for the Nonconformists. Yet as a babe Isaac Watts was nursed by his mother as she sat on a stone near the door of the prison where his father was confined for conscience’ sake. But by the time he was a man the sky had cleared, and there is little in his hymns to recall the times of trouble except the version of Ps. lxxv., ‘applied to the glorious revolution by King William or the happy accession of King George to the throne,’ in which these verses occur—

Britain was doomed to be a slave;Her frame dissolved, her fears were great,When God a new supporter gave,To hear the pillars of the State.

Britain was doomed to be a slave;

Her frame dissolved, her fears were great,

When God a new supporter gave,

To hear the pillars of the State.

No vain pretence to royal birth,Shall fix a tyrant on the throne;God, the great Sovereign of the earth,Will rise and make His justice known.

No vain pretence to royal birth,

Shall fix a tyrant on the throne;

God, the great Sovereign of the earth,

Will rise and make His justice known.

His own life was happy, and its story is singularly attractive. His feeble health saved him from many a rough conflict, and called forth the affectionate hospitality of Sir Thomas and Lady Abney. It was seemly that the non-juring Bishop Ken should find a home with a peer of the realm at Longleat, butDr. Watts found an even more congenial refuge at Theobalds and at Abney Park. There are few pleasanter stories than that of Lady Huntingdon’s calling upon Dr. Watts, when he said to her, ‘Madam, you have come to see me on a very remarkable day. This day thirty years I came hither to the house of my good friend, Sir Thomas, intending to spend but a week under his hospitable roof, and I have extended my visit to thirty long years.’ ‘Sir,’ said his gracious hostess, Lady Abney, ‘what you term a long thirty years’ visit, I consider as the shortest visit my family ever received.’

If the world had dealt a little less kindly with the poet, it might have been all the better for his poetry, which lacks the vigour, the martial music, the glorious enthusiasm of Luther and of Charles Wesley. He was, it is true, not without at least one coarse and bitter adversary—Thomas Bradbury, a Nonconformist minister of some fame and more notoriety; who seems, without any special reason, to have regarded Dr. Watts as a suitable mark for his vehement and vulgar abuse. He sneeringly forbade ‘Watts’swhims’[93]to be sung in his congregation, and charged the saintly poet with ‘burlesquing’ the poetry of the most High God. He led, if he did not initiate, the charge of Arianism. Had Watts been as ready for a theological fray asJohn Wesley, or even John Fletcher, Bradbury would have had judgement without mercy. But Watts’s letters in reply to these reiterated accusations are models of Christian controversy, or rather of Christian remonstrance. Their last encounter was at a meeting where Watts’s feebleness made it difficult for him to make himself heard. ‘Shall I speak for you, Brother Watts?’ asked Bradbury. ‘Well, you have often spokenagainstme,’ was the gently sarcastic reply.

Bradbury’s malice can have done Watts little real harm, except that of establishing the suspicion in a good many minds that he leaned to Unitarianism—a charge which has been repeated to our own day. The mild and colourless character of many of Watts’s hymns made them favourites with Unitarian editors of a former time; but the author of

Not all the blood of beastsOn Jewish altars slain,

Not all the blood of beasts

On Jewish altars slain,

and of

When I survey the wondrous Cross,

is not to be claimed as Arian, Unitarian, or anything other than an evangelical believer.

Our concern is with Watts as a hymn-writer rather than as a theologian. He was the first man, able to write good hymns, who set himself seriously to secure freedom in worship. In the meeting-house at Southampton he wearied of the dull and halting verse of Barton, and was not slow to accept his father’s challenge to write something better. If tradition may be reliedon, his first hymn, written during the week and sung on the following Sunday, was that which he placed first in hisHymns and Spiritual Songs, with the title:

(Rev. v. 6, 8, 9-12.)

Behold the glories of the Lamb,Amidst His Father’s throne:Prepare new honours for His Name,And songs before unknown.

Behold the glories of the Lamb,

Amidst His Father’s throne:

Prepare new honours for His Name,

And songs before unknown.

Let elders worship at His feet,The Church adore around,With vials full of odours sweet,And harps of sweeter sound.

Let elders worship at His feet,

The Church adore around,

With vials full of odours sweet,

And harps of sweeter sound.

Those are the prayers of the saints,And these the hymns they raise:Jesus is kind to our complaints,He loves to hear our praise.

Those are the prayers of the saints,

And these the hymns they raise:

Jesus is kind to our complaints,

He loves to hear our praise.

Eternal Father, who shall lookInto Thy secret will?Who but the Son shall take that bookAnd open every seal?

Eternal Father, who shall look

Into Thy secret will?

Who but the Son shall take that book

And open every seal?

He shall fulfil Thy great decrees,The Son deserves it well;Lo, in His hand the sovereign keysOf heaven, and death, and hell.

He shall fulfil Thy great decrees,

The Son deserves it well;

Lo, in His hand the sovereign keys

Of heaven, and death, and hell.

Now to the Lamb that once was slain,Be endless blessings paid;Salvation, glory, joy remainFor ever on Thy head.

Now to the Lamb that once was slain,

Be endless blessings paid;

Salvation, glory, joy remain

For ever on Thy head.

This is far from being one of Watts’s best hymns, but it is vastly better than Barton’s best.

It is characteristic of Dr. Watts that in the preface to hisPsalmshe speaks courteously of his predecessors in the attempt to adapt the Psalms to modern use. He praises Sir John Denham, Luke Milbourne, Tate and Brady, and, most of all, Dr. Patrick, whose ‘chief excellency,’ he thought, was that ‘he departed further from the inspired words of Scripture’ than others had done. Watts’s hymns were published ten or twelve years before thePsalms, and in his preface he delivers a vigorous apology for what he felt to be a bold venture, but pays no compliment to predecessors. He could not say, like John Wesley, that but a small part were of his own composing, yet even his extreme modesty does not prevent his showing a quiet and most just confidence in his work as compared with what had been hitherto available. His picture of the public worship of his day may comfort us in regard to the attractiveness of modern services. He says—

While we sing the praises of our God in His Church, we are employed in that part of worship which of all others is the nearest akin to heaven, and it is pity that this, of all others, should be performed the worst upon earth. The gospel brings us nearer to the heavenly state than all the former dispensations of God amongst men. And in these last days of the gospel we are brought almost within sight of the kingdom of our Lord; yet we are very much unacquainted with the songs of the New Jerusalem, and unpractised in the work of praise. To see the dull indifference, the negligent and the thoughtless air, that sits upon the faces of a whole assembly, while the psalm is on their lips, might tempt even a charitable observer to suspectthe fervency of inward religion; and it is much to be feared that the minds of most of the worshippers are absent or unconcerned. Perhaps the modes of preaching, in the best churches, still want some degrees of reformation; nor are the methods of prayer so perfect as to stand in need of no correction or improvement. But of all our religious solemnities, psalmody is the most unhappily managed. That very action which should elevate us to the most delightful and divine sensations, doth not only flatten our devotion, but too often awakes our regret, and touches all the springs of uneasiness within us.

He goes on to protest that it was ‘far from’ his ‘thoughts to lay aside the book of Psalms in public worship,’ which ‘is the most noble, most devotional and divine collection of poesy.’ At the same time he says—

It must be acknowledged still that there are a thousand lines in it which were not made for a Church in our days to assume as its own. There are also many deficiencies of light and glory which our Lord Jesus and His apostles have supplied in the writings of the New Testament. And with this advantage I have composed these spiritual songs, which are now presented to the world. Nor is the attempt vain-glorious or presuming, for, in respect of clear evangelical knowledge,The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than all the Jewish prophets.

Such a defence of Christian hymns is superfluous to-day, but it took many long years to convince the Churches that ‘When I survey the wondrous Cross’ was more suitable for use in Christian worship than Ps. cix.

When Watts’s victory was achieved it was only too complete. In the congregations of his own denomination it was counted almost an impiety to sing anything but his psalms and hymns. This extravagant and narrow loyalty to Watts naturally placed the Dissenting congregations at a great disadvantage—far greater than that which the Methodist societies suffered through the too exclusive use of Wesley’s hymns. The idea that one man can write the hymns of any Church or congregation is long since exploded; indeed, we go further, claiming that a good hymn belongs to Christendom. We do not ask what a man’s ‘denomination’ is before giving him a place in our hymn-books. Only the Romanists, and some of them faint-heartedly, now demand that the writer and the singer must belong to the same communion.

Watts has been at once unduly lauded and unduly depreciated. Keble spoke of him as ‘no poet,’ and this may be true of his ‘poems,’ but his greater hymns could only have been written by a poet of no mean order. Montgomery puts the case more justly when he calls Watts ‘one of the least of the poets of his country,’ but ‘the greatest name among hymn-writers.’[94]Professor Palgrave does Watts full justice—

His views as an Independent were modified and enlarged by his sweet, devout temper—may we not add, by his gift in poetry? And ‘every Christian Church,’ asDr. Johnson finely remarked, ‘would rejoice to have adopted’ one so fervently devout, so faithful to his duty—we may add, so much more truly gifted by nature as a poet than common Fame has recognized. As with C. Wesley and other good men, fluency, want of taste and finish, the sacrifice, in a word, of art to direct usefulness, have probably lost them those honours in literature to which they were born. But they have their reward.[95]

The sacrifice of art to usefulness was much more deliberate in the case of Watts than of Wesley. Charles Wesley often wrote in haste, with the rush and glow of a present inspiration, with thoughts that must find expression, and which it was easier to utter in poetry than in prose. Watts designed his hymns for the service of the house of God, and had ever before him the dull man in the pew and the tiresome man in the singing gallery. ‘I have seldom,’ he explained, ‘permitted a stop in the middle of a line, and seldom left the end of a line without one; to comport with the unhappy mixture of reading and singing, which cannot presently be reformed.’ ‘The metaphors,’ he continues, ‘are generally sunk to the level of vulgar capacities. If the verse appears so gentle and flowing as to incur the censure of feebleness, I may honestly affirm that sometimes it cost me labour to make it so. Some of the beauties of poesy are neglected, and some wilfully defaced.’ Finally, he describes his work as ‘an attempt for the reformation of psalmody amongst the Churches.’In estimating Watts’s contribution to the hymn-book of the modern Church, this service must be gratefully recognized. It may seem to us that he stooped too much ‘to the level of vulgar capacities,’ but in this he had to consider what men were able to bear; and we must remember that even those of his hymns which were to perish in the using had their share in preparing the way for the ‘nobler, sweeter song’ in which the Church praises her Lord to-day.

When the Independent Churches began to seek a wider range of choice than Watts could afford, they proceeded by way of supplement, as the Methodists did until 1903. Dr. Thomas Gibbons, Watts’s affectionate but ponderous biographer,[96]issued one in 1769, and others followed in fairly rapid succession, amongst their editors being George Burder, Dr. Bengo Collyer, and finally Josiah Conder, whose book was prepared in 1833 under the direction of the Congregational Union.[97]When at length the Congregationalists began to compile completely new books, Watts naturally still exercised a preponderating influence—as in the excellentLeeds Hymn-bookof 1853. But each successiveofficial or unofficial publication emanating from the Congregational Churches has been marked by a great reduction in the number of Watts’s hymns, so that the presentCongregational Church Hymnalcontains fewer hymns by Watts than were included by Dr. Martineau in hisHymns for the Church and Home. If we turn to the hymn-books of other Churches, the reduction in the number of hymns by Dr. Watts is even more striking; e.g. theChurch Hymnary(Presbyterian) gives only nine, andChurch Hymnsonly fourteen.

At present it would seem as though Dr. Watts were more honoured in the Methodist Churches than among his own people, the Methodist and the Primitive Methodist each giving a larger number of his pieces than either the Congregational or Baptist hymn-books. Probably the number of Watts’s hymns in common use will be further reduced. Some inferior compositions still hold their place. They are survivals of a time when the Church’s hymn-book was vastly poorer than it is to-day. But when the lowest point is touched, there must ever remain a number of imperishable hymns which will be sung in the Church of Christ as long as it is militant here on earth.

Watts’s hymns were greatly helped in public favour by the publication of hisPsalmsin 1719. The Dissenting Churches, for the most part, soon agreed with his own judgement that the two books were ‘such a sufficient provision for psalmody as to answer mostoccasions of the Christian’s life.’ Long use had made psalm-singing as a distinct part of the service essential, and it was many years before the Dissenting Churches cared for a hymn-book which did not make the distinction between psalms and hymns. The place of honour, or at least of precedence, was given to the Psalms, and as far as possible every psalm was paraphrased.

Watts’s preface toThe Psalms of David Imitated in the Language of the New Testament and Applied to the Christian State and Worshipis a vigorous manifesto, and it may well have seemed to some men as audacious as many readers find Wesley’s famous preface. His chief contention was that Jewish psalms must be translated, paraphrased, or, to use his own word, ‘imitated’ in Christian language before they are fit for use in Christian worship. He specially emphasizes the small number of psalms sung at the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, and, gaining courage as he writes, adds, ‘Though, to speak my own sense freely, I do not think David ever wrote a psalm of sufficient glory and sweetness to represent the blessings of this holy institution.’

Acting upon this conviction Watts boldly departed from the ideal of most of those who have paraphrased the Psalter.

In all places I have kept my grand design in view, and that is, to teach my author to speak like a Christian.... I have chosen rather to imitate than translate, and thus to compose a psalm-book for Christians, after the manner ofthe Jewish Psalter.... I have not been so curious and exact in striving everywhere to express the ancient sense and meaning of David, but have rather expressed myself as I may suppose David would have done, had he lived in the days of Christianity.[98]

Not only does common sense confirm Watts’s general principle; his own success, partial though it was, justified the new departure, and from his day to ours the most useful and the most poetic versions of Psalms are those which ‘teach the author to speak like a Christian.’ Yet, if a psalm could be dealt with from the Old Testament standpoint without inappropriateness to Christian worship, Watts preferred to retain the original idea. Thus in all his versions of the 23rd Psalm he makes no reference to the Good Shepherd of the New Testament. His best version—and it is very good—is as suitable for the synagogue as the meeting-house.

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