“Day of Wrath! O day of mourning!See fulfilled the prophets’ warning,Heaven and earth in ashes burning!
“Day of Wrath! O day of mourning!
See fulfilled the prophets’ warning,
Heaven and earth in ashes burning!
Oh, what fear man’s bosom rendeth,When from heaven the Judge descendeth,On whose sentence all dependeth.”
Oh, what fear man’s bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth.”
Sir Walter Scott’s version is in four-line stanzas, three of which are used to make a practicable hymn. But who in our self-complacent age cares to sing any of these versions, portraying “The Last Judgment”?
Another famous hymn, written by a follower of Francis of Assisi, perhaps Jacopone da Todi, “the fool for Christ’s sake,” is the “Stabat Mater Dolorosa.” It celebrates the sufferings, not of Christ on the cross, but of Mary, his mother, standing at its foot. It is the supreme Mariolatrous hymn in sentiment and in diction. It is Roman, of course, not Catholic, and interests us only as marking the sincerity and the depth of the medieval sentiment and devotion to the Madonna.
This great hymn is noteworthy because of the many translations into modern languages which have been made, seventy-eight into German alone and as many more into English, in whole or in part. Its emotional possibilities have appealed to many music composers, including Palestrina, Pergolesi, Haydn, Rossini, and Dvorak—settings varied in style from Palestrina’s high dignity to Rossini’s almost theatrical treatment.
It must be remembered that the Greek hymns of the Eastern church, and the Latin hymns of the Western, were not in dead languages, as they appear to us, but in living languages, the vernacular of the persons producing and using them. While the common people may have spoken a different dialect, the monks and clergy used the classic speech as a very mother tongue. The hymns were for the most part a perfectly spontaneous expression of religious conviction and feeling, aliving product of vital experience, an instinctive expression of profound faith.
In closing this rapid survey of a thousand years of Greek and Latin hymns, one is impressed that they are all clerical—even monastic—in type and character. There are in many of them spontaneity, genuine feeling, and personal experience, a profound sense of spiritual realities; yet over all of them falls the shadow of the tonsured ecclesiastic, with his heart set on the impressiveness of the forms of worship rather than on the ultimate result in creating spiritual reactions in the individuals of the congregation.
Although the hymns whose origin we have been tracing were used in enriching the services of the Roman Church, and for guiding the meditations and devotions of the clerical spiritually-minded readers, we get hints of a people’s hymnody used privately and in public processions, usually in the common speech of the region. It was the age of the Troubadours, a time of universal song. It is unthinkable that a people in whose lives religion was a commanding influence should have no songs of their own about it.
But among the Albigenses and Waldenses and other pietistic sects in remoter regions there must have been a hymnody all their own. They had no clergy, no connection with the Romish Church—were in utter opposition to its forms and organization. Hence their natural impulse for worship and praise compelled the creation of hymns of their own. They were spontaneous utterances expressing their spiritual life in a native vocabulary all could understand and appropriate.
Although this people’s hymnody has perished, because it was produced and used by the populace and contemptuously ignored or denounced by the clerical custodians of the literature of their day, or by those of succeeding generations, the hymns were widely sung in the homes, on the streets, at popularreligious festivals, and even in the remoter village churches where the clerical choirs were wanting.
It was these popular religious songs, rather than the more stately hymns read and chanted by clerical and monastic choirs, that kept alive the vital spark of religious feeling and devotion to Christ. If most of the doves of song hovered over the head of the Madonna during this long period, it was because she was the mother of Jesus. It was as the representative of all motherhood that she brought home the true manhood of our Lord.
That this popular hymnody of the medieval period has failed to survive is no proof of its worthlessness. It is no condemnation of the sermons of Chrysostom, of Peter the Hermit, of Martin Luther, or of a thousand sermons preached every Sunday that they perish with the breath that gave them utterance. They served a good purpose in their brief hour. That hundreds of Watts’ hymns, and thousands by Charles Wesley, are no longer sung, does not establish their uselessness, but only that their spiritual as well as verbal idiom is not adapted to the needs of our day.
While there has been a traceable logical progress in the development of the Christian hymn, as in that of material creation, the generative relations are not always clear. The link between Greek and Latin hymnody may be found in Hilary of Poitiers in the fourth century, but thereafter for five centuries they developed side by side along independent lines.
The same may be said regarding the Latin and German hymns, Luther furnishing the connection. But his connection is not so apparent with the clerical Latin hymn as with the general impulse toward the vernacular hymn.
Luther did not directly build upon the Latin hymns, although he did translate a few of them, but on the popular songs and hymns that were current in his day. Since the eleventh century vernacular hymns and religious songs had been in private use. The Gregorian rule that Scripture psalms and canticles only should be sung in public services had been strictly enforced in the monasteries and larger centers; but even there the proses and sequences had been allowed—in Latin, of course. The first hymns sung in the common speech were enlargements of the short responses allowed the people, “Kyrie eleison” and “Christe eleison” being surviving Greek phrases which were used as refrains to the stanzas of thehymns. They were called “Leisen,” or “Leichen.” Our English word “lay” is a derivative from the same source. Many of these “Leisen” mingled German and Latin words.
Back of the wrong conception of the way of salvation and the fanaticism expressed in self-torture, the Flagellant Monks of the later medieval period had an intensity of conviction and a selfless devotion that inevitably found expression in song. Bands of them made pilgrimages through Christian lands in processions, singing hymns to Mary and her Son in the common speech, little recking that they were helping to fertilize the soil from which should spring the Great Reformation.
When King Conrad was anointed in 1024, our information is that “joyfully they marched, the clergy singing in Latin, the people in German, each after his own fashion”, but this was not a church service, it was a festival procession.
Vernacular hymns became more and more numerous during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The troubadours and minnesingers could not but stimulate their production, furnishing the metrical and rhythmical models and no small part of the hymns themselves, especially those glorifying the divine motherhood of Mary. The monks, the custodians of the literary and scholarly product of this age, had no motive for making a record of these hymns, much less of their tunes, for which, indeed, no adequate system of notation existed; hence but little of this popular hymnody survives. It was not until Gutenberg brought in the age of printing that some of it was handed down to us.[1]
The great mystic, John Tauler (1290-1361), a Dominican monk of Strassburg, and others, wrote hymns of profound personal religious experience that were widely sung. John Huss of Prague (1369-1415), the renowned Bohemian martyr, wrote hymns in both Czech and Latin. In 1501 and 1505 Czech hymnbooks were issued, the first congregational hymnbooks in the vernacular, the latter containing no less thanfour hundred hymns, while Luther’s first collection, in 1524, nineteen years later, contained only eight.
It will be seen that the foundations of vernacular singing by the people, with popular tunes, had been laid, deep and wide, foundations on which Luther could later build his German hymnody. In almost every particular he had been anticipated by the Bohemian reformers, in vernacular hymns and psalms, in the use of the people’s tunes, in the revision of hymns current among the Catholics—by discarding their worship of Mary and the saints—in the emphasis placed on music as a vehicle for conveying Gospel truths and for the intensifying of the needed propaganda.
In France, in England and Scotland, in the Netherlands, the same impulses were felt. The fullness of the times had been prepared, and the great protagonist and organizer of the spiritual revolt against the hierarchy of Rome made of the hymn, which the ecclesiastical builders had rejected, one of the cornerstones of the new Church.
Luther’s objective in regard to the hymn was entirely different from that of these representatives of traditional worship. He did not have in mind the perfecting of a liturgical service on the lines of ecclesiastical tradition, but the spiritual edification of the mass of the people whom the liturgic monks had been ignoring. While too appreciative of the Latin liturgy to cast aside psalms and canticles, as well as sequences, he rejected them as models for his hymns, and his creative impulse made the more appealing and practical folk songs his basis of form and spirit.
Luther was a great lover of poetry and music. In his youth he went about singing in the streets and in private homes. He knew both the popular and the churchly music and was well prepared for his future post of liaison officer between the Latin and the coming German hymnody.
His great work in hymnody is that he took both the psalm and the hymn from the clergy, put them into the vernacular in metrical form, with popular tunes, and restored them to the people. He added to the function of the hymn as worship those of instruction, meditation, and exhortation. He added an entirely new dimension to the value of the hymn, making it a means of creating a religious atmosphere for the whole life of the Christian—personal, family, community. He made the German people a singing people and laid the foundations for their later musical pre-eminence. As Dr. Benson says, “He took it [the hymn] out of the liturgies and put it into the people’s hearts and homes. He revived, that is to say, Paul’s conception of hymnody as a spiritual function.”[2]
Luther’s hymns are the root out of which grew all our Protestant hymnody. They are like Ambrose’s in their plainness but, owing to their popular models, are superior in their metrical variety and in their cheerfulness. They are purposely cheerful: “When we sing, both heart and mind should be cheerful and merry.” They had also a more definite evangelical content, both objective and subjective, more personal experience, more exhortation, thus immensely widening the horizon of the hymn. Much of this was doubtless due to the Hussite influence.
Luther anticipated Isaac Watts in demanding that the psalm should be transformed into a hymn, retaining its important subject matter, but excluding “certain forms of expression and employing other suitable ones.”
The most important characteristic of the hymns of Luther and his associates was the burden of biblical truth. “What I wish is to make German hymns for this people, that the Word of God may dwell in their hearts by means of song also,” gives us his ideal and his practical purpose.
Luther’s hymns bear the characteristics of their writer. They were straightforward, clear, and unpretentious, full of force and strong of conviction. He was no poet. He was not consciousof literary impulses. His diction often is more forcible than elegant. Indeed, he was a peasant within whose horizon the elegant did not appear. Dr. Philip Schaff says of him: “He had an extraordinary faculty of expressing profound thought in the clearest language. In this gift he is not surpassed by any uninspired writer; and herein lies the secret of his power.... His style is racy, forcible, and idiomatic.”
Lord Selborne, an English hymnologist, remarks on Luther’s hymns, “Homely and sometimes rugged in form, and for the most part objective in tone, they are full of fire, manly simplicity, and strong faith.”
Luther wrote thirty-eight hymns. Twelve of them were based on Latin hymns, among others, “Veni, Redemptor gentium,” “Veni, Creator Spiritus,” “O Lux beata Trinitas,” and “Te Deum Laudamus”; four were rewritten pre-Reformation hymns; seven were versions of Latin psalms; six were paraphrases of other portions of Scripture, such as the Ten Commandments and the Lord’s Prayer; nine were original hymns.
Nine collections were issued by Luther, beginning with the “Achtlieder Buch,” the first evangelical hymnbook in the German language, issued in 1524. It contained but eight hymns, four by Luther, three by Paul Speratus, court chaplain at Koenigsberg, and one of unknown authorship. Later in the year it was increased to twenty-five hymns, bringing fourteen new hymns by Luther; it was called the “Erfurt Enchiridion.” During this year, 1524, he wrote twenty-one of his thirty-eight hymns. Five years later, 1529, he issued another hymnbook containing fifty-four hymns. The issue of 1553, seven years after his death, contained one hundred and thirty-one hymns. Three of these nine issues had prefaces, as noteworthy as those of Watts to his several books of psalms and hymns in formulating the principles of the new Christian hymnody.
Luther’s masterpiece, “Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott” (“Amighty fortress is our God”), is based on the forty-sixth Psalm. It is one of the greatest hymns in the whole Christian hymnody, great in itself, great in its influence on the Protestantism of northern Europe. Ranke, the noted church historian, says: “It is the production of the moment in which Luther, engaged in a conflict with a world of foes, sought strength in a consciousness that he was defending a divine cause, which could never perish.” Carlyle recognized its majesty, “a sound of Alpine avalanches, or the first murmurs of earthquakes.” Calling up the inspiration it brought to the Protestant armies, German and Swedish, in the religious wars after the Reformation, Heine characterized it as “the Marseillaise of the Reformation.” It has been recognized as the national hymn of Protestant Germany.
A number of translations into English have been made. Carlyle successfully reproduces its rugged strength in his version, but for congregational use the translation of Rev. Frederick H. Hedge, made in 1853, is more practicable.
Luther’s tune is worthy of the text in its ponderous majesty. A small congregation, or a larger one that does not know it very well, can do little with it; only a large congregation singing lustily and in the characteristically German slowtempocan do it justice.
His Christmas hymn, “Vom Himmel hoch da komm’ ich her” (“From heaven above to earth I come”), his praise of Jesus Christ, “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ” (“All praise to Thee, eternal Lord”), a revision of a pre-Reformation popular hymn, and his doctrinal hymn, rejoicing over the salvation wrought out by Jesus Christ, “Nun freuet euch, lieb’ Christen G’mein” (“Dear Christian people, now rejoice”), have been very much beloved and were very effective in building up the Protestant cause.
Luther deserves well of the Christian Church, not only because of his own hymns, but because of the inspiration he afforded others among his contemporaries, and to the generationssince his day, to take up the writing of hymns. Among the co-laborers in this field in his own generation were Justus Jonas, Paul Eber, Erasmus Alber, Lazarus Spengler, Paul Speratus, and Nicolaus Decius. Luther furnished the idea, the inspiration, and the model for all these hymnists. According to Koch, fifty-one writers contributed hymns to swell the Lutheran hymnody between 1517 and 1560.
As was to be expected, the early German hymnody was also enriched by a number of excellent hymns from the Bohemian Brethren. They were translated by Michael Weiss and Johann Roh, German ministers who had been associated with them.
No small part of the immediate success of Luther’s hymns was the tunes which he provided. He used the melodies already current among the people. He had providentially associated with him musical helpers like Johann Walther and Ludwig Senfl, who did the musical editorial work on his issues. His settings of his “Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott” and “Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ” are still a valuable part of the melodic treasury of the Christian Church.
After Luther’s death, the impetus of his hymnic influence gradually lost its evangelical force, and a more self-consciously literary coterie raised both the literary and musical standards. Prominent among them was Bartolomaeus Ringwaldt (1530-1598), who wrote “Es ist gewisslich an der Zeit”—the German “Dies Irae”—which probably suggested the English hymn, “Great God! what do I see and hear?” He was a very fertile writer. Equally fertile was Nicolaus Selnecker (1530-1592), who wrote nearly one hundred and fifty hymns.
More important than either was Philipp Nicolai (1556-1608), a Westphalian pastor, whose “Wie schoen leuchtet der Morgenstern” (“O Morning Star, how fair and bright”) and “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme” (“Sleepers, wake, a voice is calling”) have been and are the most widely used of all German hymns outside of Luther’s two masterpieces. Nicolai wrote them while a great pestilence was raging in Unna, during which fourteen hundred persons perished. He wrote the hymns for his own comfort and that of his people. He also wrote the chorales to which they are sung and which have been called respectively the “Queen” and “King” of German chorales. On the basis of their intrinsic value rather than on that of adaptation to American spirit and type of church life, they occasionally appear in our hymnals, but they are rarelyor never sung. Miss Winkworth’s translation of the “King” may be judged by the first stanza:
“Wake, awake, the night is flying;The watchmen on the heights are crying,Awake, Jerusalem, at last!Midnight hears the welcome voices,And at the thrilling cry rejoices;Come forth, ye virgins, night is past!The Bridegroom comes, awake,Your lamps with gladness take;Alleluia!And for his marriage-feast prepare,For ye must go to meet him there.”
“Wake, awake, the night is flying;
The watchmen on the heights are crying,
Awake, Jerusalem, at last!
Midnight hears the welcome voices,
And at the thrilling cry rejoices;
Come forth, ye virgins, night is past!
The Bridegroom comes, awake,
Your lamps with gladness take;
Alleluia!
And for his marriage-feast prepare,
For ye must go to meet him there.”
This chorale was used by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy as one of the climaxes of his great oratorio, “St. Paul.”
The popular “Te Deum” of Germany, “Nun danket alle Gott” (“Now thank we all our God”), was written by Martin Rinkart (1586-1649). Miss Winkworth’s version is found in most modern hymnals and deserves wide use, for it is entirely practicable in a congregation of average size. Mendelssohn used this chorale in his cantata “Lobgesang” with much effectiveness. This great hymn was written at the conclusion of the horrible and disastrous Thirty Years’ War. Michael Altenburg (1584-1640) wrote the famous battle hymn of Gustavus Adolphus with which the great Warrior King has been credited; “Verzage nicht, du Haeuflein klein” (“Fear not, O little flock, the foe”) is still used in Germany. However, Luther’s “Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott” was the more usual battle hymn, as Altenburg’s hymn was not introduced until late in Gustavus Adolphus’ campaigns—indeed, has been called his “Swan song.” Martin Opitz (1597-1639) deserves mention as a valuable influence in regulating the meters and in stressing poetical values. One of the immortal hymns written during this period was that of Georg Neumark (1621-1681), librarian of the Duke of Weimar, “Wer nur denlieben Gott laesst walten” (“If thou but suffer God to guide thee”). Other hymn writers during this distressful period were Johann Heermann (1585-1647), who wrote distinctive hymns of prayer in a correct style and good versification; Johann Rest (1607-1667), who wrote six hundred and eighty hymns intended to cover the whole domain of theology (two hundred of which were in common use in the German churches); and Matthaeus Apelles von Loewenstein (1594-1648), Johannes Matthaeus Meyfart (1590-1642), and Paul Fleming (1609-1640).
This was a period of tribulation, calamity, and desperation, which, as Miss Winkworth remarks, “caused religious men to look away from this world” and led to a more subjective type of hymn, expressing personal feeling. In general, the literary value of the hymns of this period, in form and diction and imagination, exceeded that of those of the previous generation.
The spiritual deepening of this age of sorrow, the widening of the scope of the hymn by the inclusion of more subjective elements, and the literary advance in the structure and diction were preparing the way for the Golden Age of German hymnody which followed the conclusion of the great religious war. It extended from Paul Gerhardt (1604-1676) to Christian Fuerchtegott Gellert (1715-1769).
Gerhardt had spent his young manhood amid the desolation and difficulties of the Thirty Years’ War. He did not enter the ministry until he was nearly fifty years old, having written no hymns up to that time. A great preacher and a devoted pastor, he was a man of deep piety and of unflinching loyalty to the truth, as it was given to him to see it. As calamity followed calamity, under strict divine discipline in preparation for his great work in the writing of hymns, not only for the German church, but also for the whole Christian world, he united in himself the two tendencies, the one of viewing Godand divine things in an objective way, characteristic of the early Lutheran hymns, and the other, the expression of the emotion produced by such contemplation in the heart of the Christian, characteristic of the subsequent period. He had the body of the older hymnody and the spirit of the new.
Moreover, Gerhardt was a poet. Indeed, his writings were extensive lyrics rather than hymns. Some of them have furnished several hymns. He was the Keble of German hymnody, and his influence upon subsequent hymn writing has been most helpful. There is a poetic fertility in the man lacking in his predecessors.
He wrote one hundred and twenty-three hymns, of which Dr. Philip Schaff declares that they “are among the noblest pearls in the treasury of sacred poetry.” They are of such uniform excellence that it is difficult to select those of outstanding merit. “Befiehl du deine Wege” (“Give to the winds thy fears”) was translated by John Wesley. “O Jesu Christ, mein schoenstes Licht” (“Jesus, thy boundless love to me”) is another most successful translation by the same hand. “O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden” (“O sacred head, now wounded”) leans hard on “Salve, caput cruentatum,” but has a spirituality the older hymn does not so fully display. Thirty of his hymns are in general use in the German churches, and Germany recognizes him as her prince of hymnists, superior even to Luther.
Gerhardt’s contemporaries, John Franck (1618-1677) and John Scheffler (1624-1677), while fairly prominent do not compare with him in thoughtfulness and literary felicity. Both are more pietistic. The latter has a somewhat exuberant style, intense and enthusiastic. John Wesley translated and adopted one hymn known to our hymnals as “Thee will I love, my strength, my tower.”
In the latter decades of the seventeenth century, PhilippJacob Spener, August Hermann Francke, and Johann Anastasius Freylinghausen led a strong movement of protest, called Pietism, against the arid scholasticism and cold formalism of the Lutheran church. It was a second Reformation, emphasizing piety and sincere emotionalism. It postponed the blight of Rationalism for a few decades and led a generation into a devouter, more genuine, religious life.
Spener was a great leader and a good man, but no hymn writer; Francke wrote but few hymns, and so this phase of their work devolved on Freylinghausen. He was full of spirit, with attractive rhythms and florid music. His songs were very popular, but lacked permanent merit. Other writers of this school were Schade, Schutz, and Rodigast.
Less immediately connected with the Pietistic movement, but under its influence, are Hiller of South Germany, Arnold, a professor at the University of Giessen, and Tersteegen of Westphalia, a mystic, all of whom wrote very acceptable hymns. Tersteegen was highly appreciated by John Wesley, who translated his “Gott rufet noch; sollt’ ich nicht endlich hoeren?” (“God calling yet! shall I not hear?”). “Gott ist gegenwaertig! lasset uns anbeten” (“Lo! God is here; let us adore”) and “Jedes Herz will etwas lieben” (“Something every heart is loving”) are others found translated in current hymnals. Lord Selborne speaks of him as “of all the more copious German hymn writers after Luther, perhaps the most remarkable man, pietist, mystic, and missionary, he was also a great religious poet.” That he was a layman makes his religious life all the more remarkable.
A more widely known and striking personality was Count von Zinzendorf (1700-1760), a very devout but somewhat erratic man. He became the patron saint of the Moravian Church and shared—perhaps created—its zeal for foreign missions. He spent some time in the United States, in eastern Pennsylvania, and in the West Indies, doing evangelistic work. He wrote two thousand religious lyrics, disfigured to alarge extent by extravagances and by repulsive materialistic similes and phrases. His associate and successor, Bishop August Gottlieb Spangenberg, long resident in America, and Bishop Christian Gregor also wrote very useful hymns. The Moravian hymnody is all the more noteworthy in that it had a great influence over the hymnic work of the Wesleys.
The Reformed Church in Germany long followed Calvin in exclusively using the Psalms of David, but finally felt the impulse of the Lutheran hymnody. Tersteegen, mentioned above, leaned to this branch of the German church, although not officially connected with it. Joachim Neander (1650-1680), a Reformed minister at Bremen, wrote some extremely valuable and popular hymns of praise and was called the Psalmist of the New Covenant. Among his best are “Sieh, hier bin ich, Ehren-Koenig” (“Behold me here in grief draw near”), “Lobe den Herren, den maechtigen Koenig der Ehren” (“Praise to the Lord! He is King over all the creation”), “Unser Herrscher, unser Koenig” (“Sovereign Ruler, King victorious”), still sung in every pious home in Germany.
The transitional personality between this Pietistic and the succeeding Rationalistic era, was Christian F. Gellert (1715-1769), a professor in Leipzig University. He was a man of sincere piety; he was a teacher, not only in the classroom, but in all his literary efforts. He wrote moralTales and Fables,Moral Poems,Didactic Poems, as well asSacred Odes and Hymns. There were fifty-four of these, all in the same didactic style. They lacked the rugged strength of Luther, the poetical element of Gerhardt, and the mystic insight of Tersteegen; but this very matter-of-factness made his writings immensely popular. Of all his hymns, but one survives in our modern hymnals, his Easter hymn, “Jesus lebt, mit ihm auch ich” (“Jesus lives, no longer now”).
German hymnody suddenly fell from its exalted Pietistic rhapsodies into a crass materialism. Dr. Philip Schaff gives a vivid glimpse into the situation: “He (Klopstock) was followed by a swarm of hymnological tinkers and poetasters who had no sympathy with the theology and poetry of the grand old hymns of faith; weakened, diluted, mutilated, and watered them, and introduced these misimprovements into the churches.... Conversion and sanctification were changed into self-improvement, piety into virtue, heaven into the better world, Christ into Christianity, God into Providence, Providence into fate. The people were compelled to sing rhymed sermons on the existence of God, the immortality of the soul, the delights of reunion, the dignity of man, the duty of self-improvement, the nurture of the body, and the care of animals and flowers.”
There is no poetical, much less religious, lyrical impulse in rationalism, and the church lyrics of this period have left little impress on the hymnody of the Christian Church. It was the classic period of German literature, but it had few Christian elements in it. Athens and Rome, not Jerusalem, were the centers of intellectual interest; and it might almost be said that it is a pagan literature.
As in the immediate pre-Reformation age, in spite of the decadence of religious life among the Roman Catholic leaders, there was a semi-submerged piety that forced the Reformation inside the church; so in this recrudescence of paganism in the German church, there was a great body of earnest, pious Christians who kept the spirit of true German devoutness alive.
These were represented by Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock (1724-1803), who, although he set the disastrous fashion of re-writing the older hymns in order to improve their literaryvalue by removing archaisms and harsh lines, was yet a devout man, writing the great German epic “Messias” and also some deeply religious hymns that were too poetic for the common people. Another devout writer was Johann Kasper Lavater (1741-1801), better known by his treatise on physiognomy, who wrote some hymns after the style of Klopstock, but with greater popular success, for his “O suessester der Namen all” (“O name than every name more dear”) has been translated and used in English hymnals.
When the first intoxication of the new freedom from churchly, and even moral, restraint passed away, the German church again found able representatives to give expression to its religious life. Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772-1801), also called “Novalis,” a mining engineer of fine literary ability, wrote some hymns of deep feeling and beautiful style. Friedrich de la Motte Fouque (1777-1843), chiefly known as the author ofUndine, and as an outstanding representative of the Romantic school in literature, wrote some very beautiful hymns, including two missionary hymns of great excellence. There is a literary and imaginative charm in these hymns, as in his general German style, that betrays his Huguenot heredity. Both these writers had the literary emphasis that somewhat discounted the value of their hymns for the common people. They stand, however, as landmarks of the subsidence of the rationalistic period in German hymnody.
In the reaction from Rationalism, Pietism again came into its own and a noble roster of sacred lyrists have given it expression. This includes Ernst Moritz Arndt, professor of history at the University of Bonn, whose “Wahres Christentum” was as necessary to every Christian home as the Bible itself, a patriot who won the hatred and persecution of Napoleon Bonaparte by his patriotic songs, and whose hymns are no small part of the treasury of later German hymnody. Amongthem are “Ich weiss, an wen ich glaube” (“I know in whom I put my trust”), which is one of the German classics.
Friedrich Adolf Krummacher (1767-1845) is best remembered by his hymn “Mag auch die Liebe weinen” (“Though love may weep with breaking heart”) and his missionary hymn, “Eine Herde und ein Hirt” (“One shepherd and one fold to be”). Still others are Friedrich Ruckert (1789-1866) whom Dr. Schaff calls “one of the greatest masters of lyric poetry,” Albert Knapp (1798-1864), editor of the outstanding critical collection of German hymns, “Der Liederschatz,” and writer of many widely used hymns, and Meta Heusser-Schweizer (1797-1876), of Switzerland, “the most eminent and noble among all the female poets of our whole evangelical Church.”[1]
The primate of them all is Karl Johann Philipp Spitta (1801-1859), “the most popular hymnist of the nineteenth century.” The fifty-fifth edition of hisPsalter und Harfeappeared in 1889. He was an Hanoverian pastor. He had been under rationalistic teachers at the University of Goettingen, but toward the end of his university course had a profound religious experience that affected all his future life; he wrote no secular verse after that time. He was recognized as a mystic and pietist and his promotion was antagonized on that ground.
Many of his hymns have been translated into English. Among the most successful are “O Jesu, meine Sonne” (“I know no life divided”), “Es kennt der Herr die Seinen” (“He knoweth all His people”), “O selig Haus, wo man dich aufgenommen” (“O happy home, where thou art loved the dearest”), “O treuer Heiland, Jesu Christ” (“We praise and bless thee, gracious Lord”).
Spitta may be called “the Gerhardt of the nineteenth century,” for he has many of that great hymn writer’s qualities as well as his popularity. He was sincerely devout, a man of an abiding sense of God’s care and nearness; his style is smooth and melodious as well as poetical.
Spitta’s hymns are very practical in length and form of stanza, and his themes grow out of the common needs and experiences of general humanity. For this reason they have been very largely translated into English—no less than thirty-three of them—and, what is more significant, selected by editors of hymnals, especially in England.
Karl von Gerok (1815-?) is another exceedingly popular religious lyrist of the nineteenth century, hardly second to Spitta. His “Palm-blaetter,” issued in 1857, reached its fifty-sixth edition in 1886. By this time it has likely reached the century mark. But his verses are religious poetry, not hymns, and but a few centos have been admitted to German hymnbooks.
Recently the new rationalism and sensual materialism have again submerged the religious life of Germany and the impulse to write hymns has lost its urgency. Whether the shattering of the illusion of world-wide power, and the sobering effect of its terrible losses of men and of wealth, will bring Germany back to her religious senses must be patiently awaited by those eager for her highest welfare. The recrudescence of paganism and its threat of renewed striving after world dominance need not blast this pious hope. God’s hand is still on the tiller of the German national bark, and the heart of the German people is not represented by the bulletins on the surface of its current events, caused by the pride of nationalism in the shallow vocal stratum that stridently claims the world’s attention.
In this hurried review of the development of the German hymn from Luther to Spitta much that is interesting and profitable has been omitted. But it is manifest that this German hymnody holds the supreme place in the hymnody of the Christian Church in all ages and nations. The reasons for this lie on the surface: the German people are a singing people, and the instinct to sing their thoughts and feelings is stronger than in any other race. Again, they did not lose twocenturies under the spell of Calvin’s devotion to the Hebrew Psalms, as did Great Britain and America. In contrast with the Latin and Greek hymnodies, it is the voice of the people, not the restrained liturgical voice of the clergy.
The German hymnody is often ponderous and heavy, often tediously prolix and dull, but at the heart of it is a profound realization of the actualities of the Christian faith, and a responsiveness to its appeals to the hearts of men, that one cannot find elsewhere to the same extent.
While Luther recognized the value of hymns as pre-eminent in his work, he still left a large place for the Psalms, himself making some admirable versions and inciting others to do the same. But there were limits to his sympathy with an undue and merely formal emphasis of them. He canceled the obligation of repeating the whole Psalter once a week, instituted by Cardinal Quimonez, as “a donkey’s burden.” Luther was a reformer, changing only what needed changing in order to secure a deeper spirituality. Calvin and Zwingli were not reformers, but re-creators, setting wholly aside all the liturgy, the ecclesiastical organization, the clerical rules, and the distinctive doctrines of the Roman church, and building up an entirely new church with no other sanction than their interpretation of the Word of God.
Perhaps unconsciously, Calvin harked back to the Roman attitude of Gregory the Great, in insisting on purely Scriptural sources for the service of song. He was too good a Biblical scholar not to know that the Apostolic Church used “hymns and spiritual songs” as well as Psalms; indeed he never categorically forbade hymns of “human composure.” But the people had been forbidden the Bible. The Psalms had beensung by the clergy alone in an already dead language. Calvin declared that “if a man sang in an unknown tongue, he might as well be a linnet or a popinjay.” So he reacted somewhat violently. He had a profound sense of the authority of the Word of God, and his mind was possessed by the idea of the divine sovereignty; hence religious rites of human origin seemed trifling and negligible.
This attitude was emphasized all the more by the Latin hymns sung and read in the churches, and on religious occasions, whose chief burden was worship of the Madonna, and even of the saints, against which his mind rose in outraged horror.
Human nature being what it is, it was inevitable that Calvin’s followers should carry his ideas to an extreme, and mechanically add the conclusion that hymns independent of the lyrics of the Scriptures should be forbidden.
While Luther stressed the Biblical content of the hymns and exalted the Psalms as the source of religious lyrical impulses, Calvin and his disciples added a rigid and almost superstitious regard for the mere form of the Scripture lyrics. They accepted their distortion and mutilation in giving them a metrical form as justified by the congregational necessity, and by the evident devotional results among the people.
Beneath his austerity Calvin evidently had an appreciation of literary beauty and grace, for he developed an ambition to clothe the Hebrew Psalms in a literary French metrical dress. It was while this problem was exercising his mind that there fell into his hands the French version of some of the Psalms by Clement Marot (1497-1544), who had come under the influence of Marguerite de Valois, the Huguenot princess, whosevalet de chambrehe was during his early twenties. It is possiblethat he and Calvin met at Ferrara in 1535. Though the work of a Huguenot poet, these lyrics were admired in high political and social circles in France. Written in measures fitting them to popular tunes, they were very popular among the royal courtiers, Catholics as well as Protestants, and were soon introduced into other countries.
That he was later persecuted by the Roman ecclesiastics only recommended him the more to Calvin. Here was a poet of high reputation, a skillful versifier of the Psalms, a fellow-sufferer at the hands of the Roman hierarchy—why not commit to his hands the task of supplying Calvin’s new church with its needed book of Psalms? So Marot was called to Geneva.
In 1543, nineteen years after Luther’s first venture, theAcht Liederbuch, appeared,The Genevan Psalterwas issued in the French language. It contained fifty psalms by Marot. Marot died in 1544. The completion of the Psalter was committed to Theodore Beza of Burgundy, who revised Marot’s verses, eliminating the classical allusions and offensive gaiety. With the help of Bourgeois, and later of Goudimel, in completing and harmonizing the tunes, he finished the Psalter in 1562.[1]
There had been English versions of some of the Psalms before Sternhold undertook the task. Bishop Aldhelm of Sherborne, who died in 709 A.D., composed a complete psalter. Two versions were due to Lutheran influence. That of Miles Coverdale,Ghoostly Psalms and Spiritual Songs, appearing sometime between 1530 and 1540, used some of the German chorales, including the great “Ein’ feste Burg.”
The Wedderburn brothers of Dundee, Scotland, issued theCompendious Booke of Gude and Godlie Ballates, also known asDundee Psalms, on the return of John Wedderburn,soon after 1539, from Wittenberg, where he had been under the influence of both Luther and Melanchthon. Latin psalms and hymns had no value with young people, he insisted in his preface; “but when they hear it sung into their vulgar tongue, or sing it themselves, with sweet melody, then shall they love their God with heart and mind, and cause them to put away bawdry and unclean songs.” While considerably better than the songs the collection displaced, the new book was too cheaply popular, and undignified in many of its religious parodies of popular songs, to satisfy the elders of the Scottish Kirk (!) and they tried to suppress it.
But the lines of religious, social, doctrinal, and political influence connected England and Scotland with France and Geneva so closely that it happened that the new English and Scotch psalmody was based on the work of Marot and Calvin and not on that of Luther. To human minds with some sense of literary dignity and style and of a more spontaneous expression of religious life and experience, it seems a great pity!
The first response in England to the new version of Marot was the Latin version of George Buchanan in 1548. Latin was an entirely dead language to the commonalty, but was quite generally familiar to people of scholarship and culture. This version, in the scholarly language of all Europe (like the Mandarin in China), found wide appreciation in intellectual circles and many editions of it were issued. Of course, the mass of the English people was not affected by it, and it had little or no influence on the development of English psalmody.
That there were vernacular versions already in use, is quite certain. Robert Cowley anticipated Sternhold and Hopkins in the versifying of the whole Psalter, issuing his work in 1549. In the preface to this collection he refers to previous versions which had passages “obscure and hard.” Probably they were Lollard or Wycliffite in origin, for these “sweet singers,” precursorsof the Reformation to come, worked among the lower classes in the Low Countries as well as in England, singing the Gospel in the vernacular.
Undoubtedly it was the French Psalms of Marot, and their great popularity in the highest circles in France, that incited Thomas Sternhold to undertake a like version in the English language. His first issue, probably in 1547 and 1548, contained nineteen Psalms. In 1549 he published another edition containing thirty-seven Psalms. Sternhold died in 1549, leaving but nineteen additional Psalms unpublished. Another poet, John Hopkins, a near neighbor in Gloucestershire, contributed to the edition of 1551. In 1562 the psalter was completed. Of the one hundred and fifty Psalms, Sternhold had supplied fifty-one, Hopkins sixty, all in common meter, and the rest were contributed by various writers. It also contained metrical versions of the Canticles, the Ten Commandments, the Athanasian Creed, the Te Deum, the Lord’s Prayer, an English version of the festival hymn, “Veni, Creator Spiritus,” and several original English hymns.
This psalter had a popularity equaled only byHymns Ancient and Modernand theGospel Hymnsseries in the recent past. Within half a century more than fifty editions were issued. By 1841 no less than six hundred and fifty different editions had been absorbed by the religious public—more than all other metrical versions combined.
This version was adopted by the Church of England in 1562 and continued to be used for nearly two hundred and fifty years, despite its notorious crudities and imperfections, and despite the many efforts made to supersede it by other versions and by hymns. The singing of Psalms became universal. At St. Paul’s Cross, after the service, there were sometimes six thousand persons engaged in singing Psalms. It was a time of genuine community singing.