CHAPTER I.

THE PRAISE SERVICE OF THE EARLY CHURCH.

When our Lord and His disciples “had sung an hymn” they left the place where they had observed the passover, and went out to the Mount of Olives. This hymn was the “Great Hallel,” consisting of Psalms 113 to 118 inclusive. The 113th and 114th were sung previous to the feast; the others, after it. We thus know, with singular accuracy, what was the first hymn of praise in the Christian Church. The essence of this “Hallel” is the essence of all true psalmody—trust and thanksgiving and praise.

It may be said, and with truth, that the _Magnificat_ of Mary, the _Nunc Dimittis_ of old Simeon, and, above all, that the _Gloria in Excelsis Deo_ of the angels at Bethlehem, antedate this hymn of our Lord and His apostles. It may also be said, and with the same truth, that these furnished to the early Christians their earliest expressions of praise. But it appears that the Last Supper, with its pathetic union of Jewish and Christian ideas, was also the place at which the Psalms of David and the spiritual songs of primitive Christianity were united. The thought that this reveals is larger than these limits will permit us to discuss. It is in brief that as Jesus Christ came, “not to destroy, but to fulfil,” He designed to show to His Church that gratitude, love, trust, and adoration were to be combined in all future psalmody. The _t’hillim_ of the Jew were to become the _hymni_ of the Christian.

The noticeable fact remains that the early Church only caught the simplest and most fervent forms of this worship. Their pure veneration of the Lord led Pliny to write (Ep. 10:97) that they “sung alternately among themselves a hymn to Christ as God”—_carmen Christo quasi Deo, dicere secum invicem_. It is this loving devotion which charms us as we read those verses which have been preserved. For the most part the subjects are limited. We could naturally expect that, being largely drawn from Jewish sources, they would express gratitude and adoration—and this is correct. Chrysostom declared that the early Christians sung at prayers in the morning, at their work, and very usually at their meals. Jerome, writing to Marcellus, says—and we quote Cave’s translation for its quaintness—“You could not go into the field but you might hear the _Ploughman_ at his _Hallelujahs_, the _Mower_ at his _Hymns_, and the _Vine-dresser_ singing _David’s Psalms_.” In fact, Christian song was a notable feature of primitive Christianity.

The language of these hymns was either Syriac or Greek. By degrees the Greek obtained the precedence; and as the Latin hymns did not arise until Hilary of Poitiers (fourth century), the period between the Ascension and that era belongs to the Greek language rather more than to any other. We also know from the New Testament writers some very important facts, which may properly be classified at this point.

1. There were three terms for the sacred song. It might be a _psalm_, or a _hymn_, or a _spiritual song_, as we discover from Ephesians 5:19 and Colossians 3:16.

2. From 1 Corinthians 14:23-33, it seems plain that the composition, as well as the singing of these hymns and songs, might be the result of sudden emotion or inspiration. In any case, there is no doubt (for Tertullian decisively states it) that the “extempore,” or, more strictly, “private” authorship of such psalmody was not uncommon. The council of Laodicea (_circa_ A.D. 360) interdicted private persons from this privilege. Even in Paul’s time it would appear to have produced an effect akin to the “spirituals” of our own freedmen—much of it being exquisite in its simple devotion, while a certain share offended good taste, and hindered the propriety and solemnity of worship.

3. The alternation of prayer with praise was never better illustrated than when Paul and Silas (Acts 16:25) sent up their midnight anthems from that “inner prison,” while their feet were “made fast in the stocks.” This alternation was—as the Fathers assure us—the order in public worship also.

4. We have received in the very pages of the New Testament some of these earliest hymns. To say nothing, at present, of those great leading chants which bear the names of the angels, and of Mary, and of Zacharias, and of Simeon—and to pass over all those of Jewish origin—we have still left us such a strain as that in Acts 4:24-30. Here we have an impulse which expresses itself in reply to Peter and John by sacred song.

Ephesians 5:14 has also been considered to be such a fragment:

“Awake, O thou that sleepest! Arouse thee from the dead! And Christ shall give to thee Enlightenment!”

So too 1 Timothy 3:16 has been arranged by some scholars as though it were a well-known strophe the Apostle quoted:

“Who—for the mystery is great— Was manifest in body, Was justified in spirit, Was visible to angels, Was heralded to heathen, Was trusted on the earth, Was taken up to glory.”

Nor is this the only instance in this very Epistle, for 1 Timothy 6:15, 16, reads:

“The king of all the kingly ones, The lord of all the lordly ones, Who only hath the power of life immortal; Inhabiting the unapproachable light; Whom never any one of men hath seen, Nor ever can behold; Let glory and eternal strength be his! Amen!”

5. When, now, we complete our New Testament mention of this praise—which clings like incense to the temple-curtains and sweetly perfumes the place—we have only to add the earliest received anthems. These are the _Magnificat_ (Luke 1:46-55); the _Benedictus_ (Luke 1:68-79); the _Gloria in Excelsis Deo_ (Luke 2:18); and the _Nunc Dimittis_ (Luke 2:29-32). It will be observed that all these are derived from a single gospel, wherein, more than in any other, the “sweet, sad music of humanity” can most readily be found. It is natural, too, that the painter and physician, Luke, should have a poetic ear which could catch—as in the Acts of the Apostles—this faintest and earliest praise. There were, indeed, in the primitive church, eight of these classic expressions of worship. These are:

(1) The Lesser Doxology (_Gloria Patri_), “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.” (2) The Greater Doxology (_Gloria in Excelsis_), “Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace,” etc. [This was also called the Angelical Hymn.] (3) The _Ter Sanctus_ (the cherubical hymn), “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.” (4) The Hallelujah. [This “Alleluia, Amen!” was the response of the church.] (5) The Evening Hymn (containing the _Nunc Dimittis_). (6) The _Benedicite_. [The “Song of the Three Children,” which is taken from the Apocrypha, and which appears in the service of the Episcopal Church (Order for Morning Prayer) as, “O all ye works of the Lord,” etc.] (7) The _Magnificat_. [Named—as these are all named—from the first word of the Latin Vulgate version.] (8) The _Te Deum_, “We praise Thee, O God, we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord,” etc.

We can feel quite sure that the Latin Church merely borrowed these hymns from the earliest forms of the Greek. The _Te Deum_ was probably translated from that language, either by Hilary of Poitiers or by an unknown author of that date. It is, undoubtedly, a close rendering of many phrases and expressions which are common to the Greek hymns, and, if the learned hymnologist H. A. Daniel is to be credited (_Thesaurus Hymnologicus II._ 289), it is a real and literal translation of an actual chant of praise of great antiquity. His words are these: “To give you my opinion briefly, the _Te Deum_, equally with the Angelic Hymn (to which it is very similar in form and expression), was born in the Eastern Church, whence it has been translated into the Latin tongue.” He then proceeds to cite an ancient Greek hymn, five lines of which are exact with the Latin.

In 2 Timothy 2:11-13 the “faithful saying” has been interpreted to be a similar quotation from one of these ancient hymns:

“For if we are dead together, We shall live together; If we serve together, We shall reign together; If we should deny Him, He will deny us too; If we should be faithless, He is faithful still.”

It does not, of course, absolutely follow that these are really such fragments of hymns as scholars have supposed. The late Dr. Lyman Coleman—a man of great practical good judgment—comments upon these citations thus:

“The argument is not conclusive; and all the learned criticism, the talent, and the taste, that have been employed on this point, leave us little else than uncertain conjecture on which to build an hypothesis.” (_Primitive Church_, p. 366.) Yet the latest scholarship tends so strongly in this direction, and the internal evidence is so good and fair, that it may be regarded as pretty well affirmed and accepted. No one, for example, would think of comparing such passages as these with the antithetic prose of Romans 3:21-23; or with the magnificent unrhythmic utterance in Romans 8:38, 39; or with the careful particularity of 2 Corinthians 6:4-10. They are seen and felt to be different both in tone and in form.

In the Apocalypse, where the language is naturally exalted and poetic, several such instances have been noted. They are: Revelation 1:4-8; 5:9, 10, 12-14; 11:15, 17, 18; 15:3, 4; 21:10-14, and 22:17. Of one of these—the “Song of Moses and of the Lamb”—we may be reasonably certain:

“Great are Thy works and strange, Lord God, Thou Ruler of all! And just are Thy ways, and true, Thou King of the nations of earth. For who shall not fear Thee, Lord, And give to Thy name the praise, For holy art Thou alone!— To Thee shall the nations come And worship before Thy face; For all of Thy righteous acts Shall then be openly known!”

In the same manner may be written the stanza from Revelation 22:17:

“And the Spirit and the Bride— Are saying, ‘Come!’ And he that heareth— Let him say, ‘Come!’ And he that thirsteth— Let him come! And he that willeth— Let him receive, Freely, the water of life!”

We have also a positive acquaintance with the order of religious worship in the early Church, dating back one hardly knows how far, but definitely leading us into the custom of the first three centuries. Public services began, and were continued, as follows:

First, _Prayer_—or, possibly, a _Salutation_ or _Invocation_, such as is in common use to-day.

Then the _Reading of Scripture_. The Old Testament and New Testament were both employed: the one being expounded to apply to the case of the Christian Church; and the other for her comfort, encouragement, and edification.

Then followed the _Hymns_ and _Psalms_. The distinction appears to have been that the _psalms_ were those of David; the _hymns_, such as the song of Mary, or of the angels; and the _spiritual songs_, such as were composed by private persons, or which sprang up spontaneously in a kind of chant. That this was liable to abuse, and might cause confusion, is made evident by Paul’s advice to the Corinthians. Between these acts of praise was interpolated some brief Scripture lesson. And, very likely, a considerable portion of time was taken up by this part of the service.

Then came the _Sermon_, which was succeeded by a _Prayer_.

Another question now meets us, and one of some importance: Did the early Christians employ any musical instruments? In reply, it can be noted that ψάλλειν, “to make melody” (Eph.5:19), is usually taken to refer to a musical accompaniment. In Romans 15:9 it is a quotation from Psalm 18:50, where it means, “I will _sing psalms_.” In 1 Corinthians 15:15 (“I will _sing_ with the spirit, and I will _sing_ with the understanding also”) and in James 5:13 (“Is any merry? let him _sing psalms_”) we have nothing decisive except that we know that the Jewish method of “singing psalms” was to the accompaniment of musical instruments. Thus, with all these texts before us, we are not able either to affirm or deny the fact. The reference of Paul (1 Cor. 14:7) to the _pipe_ (αυλός, flute) and _harp_ (κιθάρα, lute) gives us no assistance. The “harp” of Revelation 5:8, 14:2, and 15:2, is the cithara or _lute_ again; but neither does this tell us what the early Christians did or did not do. The inference is pretty strong that they avoided some things that were Jewish—and instrumental music was a marked feature in the Jew’s worship—but it is plain that (as with the Sabbath question) there was a great deal of blending at the edges between the two dispensations. We are told, moreover, that the Syriac Church has always been rich in tunes, having fully two hundred and seventy-five, while the Greek was confined to about eight.

There is another fact which comes in just here, however, to explain what we would otherwise find it hard to unriddle. It is the matter of the very language of the hymns themselves.

When we observe the places where these fragments occur, or where singing in the church is mentioned, we find that the language naturally is Greek. No one doubts that Luke and the other New Testament writers employed the tongue which was the educated and flexible medium of conveying the loftiest truth; nor that Ephesians or Corinthians chanted in Greek. “The Greek tongue,” say Conybeare and Howson (_St. Paul_, 1:10), “became to the Christian more than it had been to the Roman or the Jew.” It lends itself most readily to that dithyrambic shape in which highly emotional natures could best express their praise. So the irregularity of the verse; its utter lack of metrical form (as Dr. Neale found when he examined eighteen quarto volumes of it), and its simplicity of diction, all combined to put the instrumental accompaniment aside. Perhaps there was a prejudice—as Archbishop Trench affirms—against a distinctively Jewish method. Perhaps there was a disposition in this, as in other matters where art had perverted the morals of men, to oppose whatever looked toward a possible laxity. Music and banqueting, music and luxury, music and profligacy, went together so much that the early Church reacted to the extreme of Puritanism—forgetting that her Lord and Master had often worshipped in the full-choired temple itself. In the catacombs, where every manner of ordinary symbol may be found, there is neither pipe nor harp, nor any sort of musical instrument—the lyre alone excepted. But neither is there any condescension to beauty in form or color. Everything betokens a rude, uncultivated simplicity—a piety which contented itself with the barest and meagerest representations. It rose high enough to portray the face of Christ, in the ancient cemetery of Domitilla, and in one carving on a sarcophagus of the fourth century. And, remembering how repugnant anything heathenish was to the souls of those who associated pipe and tabret and harp with the bloody arena and the wild revelry of Rome, can we doubt why they mingled only their unassisted voices in these chants of praise? It can be positively added that Ambrose, Basil, and Chrysostom do not include _instrumental_ music in their eulogies of the Church’s practice upon this theme.

We are justified, however, in going one step beyond this bald statement, that the early Christians _sang_ together. They sang _secum invicem_, alternately. The quotations already given show the adaptation of their hymns to this use. In this, at least, they were following the Jewish habit of responses and part-singing, whatever other changes their poverty or prejudices or principles or persecutions might have produced.

It remains for us to speak of the ancient hymns which have come down to our day. We have some information as to Harmonius and Bardesanes, who wrote Syriac hymns in the first century, but the hymns themselves are either lost or unidentified. Ephrem Syrus (died 378) furnishes the earliest authentic hymns in that language. One of these (Daniel, _Thesaurus Hymnologicus_, III. 145) is on the Nativity of our Lord, and may be thus rendered, following Zingerle’s German version:

“Into his arms with tender love Did Joseph take his holy son, And worshipped him as God, and saw The babe like any little one. His heart rejoiced above him there, For now the only Good had birth; And pious fear upon him came Before this Judge of all the earth. Oh, what a lofty wonder!

“Who gave me then this precious Son Of highest God, to be my child? For I against thy mother here Had almost been by zeal beguiled; And I had thought to cast her off— Alas, I saw not truly then How in her bosom she should bear The costliest treasure known to men, To make my poverty, so soon, The richest lot in mortal ken!

“David, that king of ancient days, My ancestor, had placed the crown On his own head, and there it lay; But I sank deep and further down: I was no king, but in its stead A carpenter, and that alone. But now may crown my brow again That which befits a kingly throne, For here upon my bosom lies The Lord of lords, my very own!”

There is a trifle of doubt as to which is the very oldest Greek hymn. One cited by Basil (died 379),

“Φῶς ἱλαρὸν ἁγίας δοξής”—κ. τ. λ.

has been by some considered the most ancient, and is known to us as, “Hail, gladdening Light.” It is wrongly credited to Athenagenes (died 169), for Basil explicitly denies that authorship. That which it is safest for us to receive is one found in the works of Clement of Alexandria, and by him ascribed to an earlier author. It was probably composed about 200 A.D.; and while it is too long to quote, it may be characterized as dithyrambic, and almost Anacreontic, in rhythm. It begins:

“Στροµίον πώλων ἀδαῶν.”—κ. τ. λ.

and is known as “Shepherd of Tender Youth,” from its best English version, by the Rev. Dr. H. M. Dexter, of Boston. The Φῶς ἱλαρὸν is also accessible in Longfellow’s beautiful translation in the Golden Legend, commencing, “O gladsome light.”

As we turn the pages on which Daniel and Mone have recorded these hymns of the earliest age of the Church, we observe that they are either in praise of Christ or of God, or are songs of worship for the morning or the evening. Their simplicity is admirable. Here is one called ἦχος—an “Echo”—literally rendered:

“We who have risen from our sleep Worship before thee, O Good One. And, of the angels the hymn We cry aloud to thee, thou Mighty One; Holy, holy art thou, O God, And of thy mercy have pity on us!

“From my couch and from my sleep Thou hast raised me, O Lord; Enlighten my mind and my heart, And open thou my lips To praise thee, Holy Trinity, Holy, holy, holy art thou!

“Suddenly shall come the Judge, And the deeds of each shall be laid bare; But guard us from fear in the midst of the night, Holy, holy, holy art thou!”

Another of these unplaced, anonymous, and possibly very ancient hymns, may be given in full for comparison:

“Ψυχή µου, ψυχή µου, Ἀνάστα, τί καθεύδεις; Τὸ τέλος ἐγγίζει, Καὶ µήλλεις θορυβεῖσθαι;

“Ἀνάνηψον ὀυν, ἵνα Φείσηται σου Χριστὸς Ὁ Θεὸς, ὁ πανταχοῦ παρὼν Καὶ τὰ πάντα πληρῶν.”

“O soul of mine, O soul of mine, Arise, why sleepest thou? The end of earth is drawing near And art thou fearful now? Be sober therefore, O my soul, That He who filleth space And filleth time, our Saviour, God, May spare thee by His grace.”

And this beautiful little doxology:

“My hope is God, My refuge is the Lord, My shelter is the Holy Ghost; Be thou, O Holy Three, adored!”

In such sweet and simple language did the early Christians sing their “praise to Christ, as God.” They understood the true meaning of a hymn as Ambrose and St. Bernard also understood it—and as Gregory Nazianzen and Adam of St. Victor never knew it at all. In 1866 Professor Coppée could truly declare that there was no collection of sacred verse in which this thought of adoration and of worship was “the leading feature.” It is better now; but even to-day there is an honored place for any book of praise in which the formal and didactic shall be done away, and where nothing shall be found but the pure reverence of a loving and trusting soul.

Of old, in the temple, there was kept—said the rabbins—a flute of reed, plain and straight and simple, but of marvellous sweetness. It came down from Moses’ day. But the king commanded his goldsmiths to cover and adorn it with gold and gems. And, lo, the sweetness of the reed flute was forever gone! Thus, perchance, in our later art and our foolish wisdom, it may be we have often spoiled the ancient hymns!