PART V

AMERICAN HYMNODY

The First American Hymn

I love Thy Zion, Lord, The house of Thine abode; The Church our blest Redeemer saved With His own precious blood.

I love Thy Church, O God; Her walls before Thee stand, Dear as the apple of Thine eye, And graven on Thy hand.

For her my tears shall fall; For her my prayers ascend: To her my cares and toil be given, Till toils and cares shall end.

Beyond my highest joy I prize her heavenly ways, Her sweet communion, solemn vows, Her hymns of love and praise.

Jesus, Thou Friend divine, Our Saviour and our King, Thy hand from every snare and foe Shall great deliverance bring.

Sure as Thy truth shall last, To Zion shall be given The brightest glories earth can yield, And brighter bliss of heaven.

Timothy Dwight, 1800.

THE BEGINNINGS OF HYMNODY IN AMERICA

The rise of hymnody in America ran parallel with the development of hymn-singing in England. The Puritans who came from Holland in the Mayflower in 1620 were "separatists" from the Church of England, hence they used a psalm-book of their own, published by Henry Ainsworth at Amsterdam in 1612. This was the book that cheered their souls on the perilous crossing of the Atlantic and during the hard and trying years that followed their landing at Plymouth.

Amid the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang With the anthems of the free.

This was also the book that comforted Priscilla, when John Alden stole in and found that

Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth.

The later Puritans who came directly from England, on the other hand, were not "separatists," hence they brought with them the psalm-book of Sternhold and Hopkins, which was the version of the Psaltery approved at that time by the Established Church.

The wretched paraphrases of the Psalms in both the Ainsworth and the "orthodox" version of Sternhold and Hopkins eventually led to an insistent demand among the New England Puritans for an entirely new psalm-book which should also adhere more closely to the Hebrew original. The result was the famous "Bay Psalmist" of 1640, which was the first book printed in British America.

The Puritan editors of this first attempt at American psalmody cared no more for poetic effect than did their brother versifiers across the waters. This they made quite plain in the concluding words of the Preface to the "Bay Psalmist": "If therefore the verses are not always so smooth and elegant as some may desire or expect; let them consider that God's Altar needs not our pollishings: Ex. 20, for wee have respected rather a plaine translation, than to smooth our verses with the sweetness of any paraphrase, and soe have attended to Conscience rather than Elegance, fidelity rather than poetry, in translating the hebrew words into english language, and David's poetry into english meetre: that soe wee may sing in Sion the Lords songs of praise according to his own will; untill hee take us from hence, and wipe away all our tears, & bid us enter into our masters joye to sing eternall Halleluiahs."

The editors scarcely needed to apprise the worshiper that he should not look for artistic verses, for a glimpse within its pages was sufficient to disillusion any one who expected to find sacred poetry. The metrical form given the 137th Psalm is an example of the Puritan theologians' contempt for polished language:

The rivers on of Babilon there when wee did sit downe: yea even then wee mourned, when wee remembred Sion.

Our Harps wee did hang it amid, upon the willow tree. Because there they that us away led in captivitee,

Required of us a song, & thus askt mirth: us waste who laid, sing us among a Sions song, unto us then they said.

The lords song sing can wee? being in strangers land. Then let loose her skill my right hand, if I Jerusalem forget.

Let cleave my tongue my pallate on, if minde thee doe not I: if chiefe joyes o'er I prize not more Jerusalem my joye.

Nevertheless, strange as it may seem, the "Bay Psalmist" passed through twenty-seven editions, and was even reprinted several times abroad, being used extensively in England and Scotland. Gradually, however, psalmody began to lose its hold on the Reformed churches, both in Europe and America, and hymnody gained the ascendancy. The publication in 1707 of the epoch-making work of Isaac Watts, "Hymns and Spiritual Songs," was the first step in breaking down the prejudice in the Calvinistic churches against "hymns of human composure." In America the Great Awakening under Jonathan Edwards, which began in 1734 and which received added impetus from the visit of John Whitefield in 1740, also brought about a demand for a happier form of congregational singing. Then came the influence of the Wesleyan revival with its glorious outburst of song.

Jonathan Edwards himself, stern Puritan that he was, was finally forced to confess that it was "really needful that we should have some other songs than the Psalms of David." Accordingly hymn singing grew rapidly in favor among the people.

The first attempt to introduce hymns in the authorized psalm-books was made by Joel Barlow, a chaplain in the Revolutionary War. Instructed by the General Association of Congregational Churches of Connecticut to revise Watts' "Psalms of David" in order to purge them of their British flavor, he was likewise authorized to append to the Psalms a collection of hymns. He made a selection of seventy hymns, and the new book was published in 1786.

It was received with delight by the Presbyterians, but the Congregationalists who had sponsored it were thoroughly dissatisfied. As an example of the morbid character of Puritan theology, Edward S. Ninde has called attention to the fact that while Barlow failed to include Wesley's "Jesus, Lover of my soul" or Watts' "When I survey the wondrous cross," he did select such a hymn by Watts as "Hark, from the tombs, a doleful sound," and another beginning with the lines,

My thoughts on awful subjects roll, Damnation and the dead.

A second attempt to make a complete revision of Watts' "Psalms of David" was decided upon by the Congregational churches, and this time the task was entrusted to Timothy Dwight, president of Yale College. Dwight, who was a grandson of Jonathan Edwards, was born in 1752. He entered Yale at the age of thirteen and graduated with highest honors in 1769. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War he was commissioned a chaplain and throughout the conflict he wrote songs to enthuse the American troops. In 1795 he was elected president of Yale College, in which position he served his Alma Mater for twenty years.

Dwight exhibited a spirit of bold independence when he added to the revised "Psalms" by Watts a collection of two hundred and sixty-three hymns. Of these hymns, one hundred and sixty-eight were also by Watts, indicating the hold which that great hymnist retained on the English-speaking world. Other hymn-writers represented in Dwight's book included Stennett, Doddridge, Cowper, Newton, Toplady, and Charles Wesley. Only one of the latter's hymns was chosen, however, and Toplady's "Rock of Ages" was not included!

Dwight himself wrote thirty-three paraphrases of the Psalms, but they were so freely rendered that they are properly classified as original hymns. Among these is his splendid version of the 137th Psalm, "I love Thy Zion, Lord," which may be regarded as the earliest hymn of American origin still in common use today. It is usually dated 1800, which is the year when Dwight's work was published.

Dwight, who will always be remembered as the outstanding figure in the beginnings of American hymnody, died in 1817. The story of his life is an inspiring one, illustrating how his heroic qualities conquered despite a "thorn in the flesh." A chronicler records that "during the greater part of forty years he was not able to read fifteen minutes in the twenty-four hours; and often, for days and weeks together, the pain which he endured in that part of the head immediately behind the eyes amounted to anguish."

The Hymn of a Wounded Spirit

I love to steal awhile away From every cumbering care, And spend the hour of setting day In humble, grateful prayer.

I love in solitude to shed The penitential tear, And all His promises to plead Where none but God can hear.

I love to think of mercies past, And future good implore, And all my cares and sorrows cast On Him whom I adore.

I love by faith to take a view Of brighter scenes in heaven; The prospect doth my strength renew, While here by tempests driven.

Thus when life's toilsome day is o'er, May its departing ray Be calm as this impressive hour And lead to endless day.

Phoebe Hinsdale Brown, 1818.

AMERICA'S FIRST WOMAN HYMNIST

Less than twenty years after Timothy Dwight's hymns were published, a very poor and unpretentious American woman began to write lyrics that have been treasured by the Church until this present day, nor will they soon be forgotten. Her name was Phoebe Hinsdale Brown, and the story of her life is the most pathetic in the annals of American hymnody.

"As to my history," she wrote near the end of her life, "it is soon told; a sinner saved by grace and sanctified by trials."

She was born at Canaan, N. Y., May 1, 1783. Both parents died before she was two years old and the greater part of her childhood was spent in the home of an older sister who was married to a keeper of a county jail. The cruelties and privations suffered by the orphaned child during these years were such that her son in later years declared that it broke his heart to read of them in his mother's diary. She was not permitted to attend school, and could neither read nor write. She was eighteen years old before she escaped from this bondage and found opportunity to attend school for three months. This was the extent of her education within school walls.

In 1805, at the age of twenty-two, she married Timothy H. Brown, a house painter. He was a good man, but extremely poor. Moving to Ellington, Mass., they lived in a small, unfinished frame house at the edge of the village. Four little children and a sick sister who occupied the only finished room in the house added to the domestic burdens of Mrs. Brown. In the summer of 1818 a pathetic incident occurred that led to the writing of her most famous hymn.

There being no place in her crowded home where she might find opportunity for a few moments of quiet prayer and meditation, she would steal away at twilight to the edge of a neighboring estate, where there was a magnificent home surrounded by a beautiful garden.

"As there was seldom any one passing that way after dark," she afterwards wrote, "I felt quite retired and alone with God. I often walked quite up to that beautiful garden ... and felt that I could have the privilege of those few moments of uninterrupted communion with God without encroaching upon any one."

But her movements had been watched, and one day the lady of the mansion turned on her in the presence of others and rudely demanded: "Mrs. Brown, why do you come up at evening so near our house, and then go back without coming in? If you want anything, why don't you come in and ask for it?"

Mrs. Brown tells how she went home, crushed in spirit. "After my children were all in bed, except my baby," she continues, "I sat down in the kitchen, with my child in my arms, when the grief of my heart burst forth in a flood of tears. I took pen and paper, and gave vent to my oppressed heart in what I called 'My Apology for my Twilight Rambles, addressed to a Lady.'" The "Apology," which was sent to the woman who had so cruelly wounded her began with the lines:

Yes, when the toilsome day is gone, And night, with banners gray, Steals silently the glade along In twilight's soft array.

Then continued the beautiful verses of her now famous "Twilight Hymn:"

I love to steal awhile away From little ones and care, And spend the hours of setting day In gratitude and prayer.

Seven years later, when Dr. Nettleton was preparing his volume of "Village Hymns," he was told that Mrs. Brown had written some verses. At his request she brought forth her "Twilight Hymn" and three other lyrics, and they were promptly given a place in the collection. Only a few slight changes were made in the lines of the "Twilight Hymn," including the second line, which was made to read "From every cumbering care," and the fourth line, which was changed to "In humble, grateful prayer." Four stanzas were omitted, otherwise the hymn remains almost exactly in the form of the "Apology."

One of the omitted stanzas reveals a beautiful Christian attitude toward death. Mrs. Brown wrote:

I love to meditate on death! When shall his message come With friendly smiles to steal my breath And take an exile home?

One of the other hymns by Mrs. Brown included in "Village Hymns" is a missionary lyric, "Go, messenger of love, and bear." This was written a year earlier than her "Twilight Hymn." Her little son Samuel was seven years old at the time, and the pious mother's prayer was that he might be used of the Lord in His service. It was the period when the English-speaking world was experiencing a tremendous revival of interest in foreign missions, and in her heart she cherished the fond hope that her own boy might become a messenger of the gospel. Then came the inspiration for the hymn:

Go, messenger of love, and bear Upon thy gentle wing The song which seraphs love to hear, The angels joy to sing.

Go to the heart with sin oppressed, And dry the sorrowing tear; Extract the thorn that wounds the breast, The drooping spirit cheer.

Go, say to Zion, "Jesus reigns"-- By His resistless power He binds His enemies with chains; They fall to rise no more.

Tell how the Holy Spirit flies, As He from heaven descends; Arrests His proudest enemies, And changes them to friends.

Her prayer was answered. The son, Samuel R. Brown in 1838 sailed as a missionary to China, and eleven years later, when Japan was opened to foreigners, he was transferred to that field. He was the first American missionary to the Japanese.

Mrs. Brown died at Henry, Illinois, October 10, 1861. She was buried at Monson, Mass., where some thirty years of her life had been spent. Her son, the missionary, has written this beautiful tribute to her memory:

"Her record is on high, and she is with the Lord, whom she loved and served as faithfully as any person I ever knew; nay, more than any other. To her I owe all I am; and if I have done any good in the world, to her, under God, it is due. She seems even now to have me in her hands, holding me up to work for Christ and His cause with a grasp that I can feel. I ought to have been and to be a far better man than I am, having had such a mother."

A Triumphant Missionary Hymn

Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning! Joy to the lands that in darkness have lain! Hushed be the accents of sorrow and mourning, Zion in triumph begins her glad reign.

Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning, Long by the prophets of Israel foretold! Hail to the millions from bondage returning! Gentiles and Jews the blest vision behold.

Lo, in the desert rich flowers are springing, Streams ever copious are gliding along; Loud from the mountain-tops echoes are ringing, Wastes rise in verdure, and mingle in song.

Hark, from all lands, from the isles of the ocean, Praise to Jehovah ascending on high; Fallen the engines of war and commotion, Shouts of salvation are rending the sky.

Thomas Hastings.

THOMAS HASTINGS, POET AND MUSICIAN

High among the names of those who in the early days of America labored to raise the standard of hymnody must be inscribed the name of Thomas Hastings, Doctor of Music. Poet and musician by nature, Hastings may truly be said to have devoted his entire life to the elevation of sacred song.

The story of his life is typical of the struggles and hardships of many American pioneers who conquered in spite of the most adverse circumstances. Born at Washington, Conn., October 15, 1784, young Hastings removed with his parents to Clinton, N. Y., when he was only twelve years old. The journey was made in ox-sleds through unbroken wilderness in the dead of winter.

The frontier schools of those days offered little opportunity for education, but the eager lad trudged six miles a day to receive the instruction that was given. A passionate fondness for music was first satisfied when he secured a musical primer of four pages costing six pence. The proudest moment in his life came when he was named leader of the village choir.

It was not until he was thirty-two years old that Hastings was able to secure employment as a music teacher, but from that time until his death, in 1872, he devoted all his energies to the work he loved.

Hastings was ever tireless in contending that good music should have a recognized place in religious worship. From 1823 to 1832, during which time he edited the Western Recorder, in Utica, N. Y., he had an excellent opportunity to spread his views on music. In the latter year twelve churches in New York City jointly engaged his services as choir director, and for the remainder of his life Hastings made the great American metropolis his home.

Though seriously handicapped by eye trouble, Hastings produced a prodigious amount of work. It is claimed that he wrote more than one thousand hymn tunes. He also published fifty volumes of church music. Some of the finest tunes in our American hymnals were composed by him. Who has not found inspiration in singing that sweet and haunting melody known as "Ortonville"? And how can we ever be sufficiently grateful for the tune called "Toplady," which has endeared "Rock of Ages" to millions of hearts? Besides these there are at least a score of other beautiful hymn tunes that have been loved by the singing Church for nearly a century, any one of which would have won for the composer an enduring name.

Through the composing of tunes, Hastings was led to write words for hymns. More than six hundred are attributed to him, although many were written anonymously. "Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning" is generally regarded as his best hymn. It strikingly reflects the spirit of the missionary age in which Hastings lived.

Another very popular and stirring missionary hymn, written by Hastings in 1831, is a song of two stanzas:

Now be the gospel banner In every land unfurled; And be the shout, Hosannah! Reechoed through the world; Till every isle and nation, Till every tribe and tongue, Receive the great salvation, And join the happy throng.

Yes, Thou shalt reign forever, O Jesus, King of kings! Thy light, Thy love, Thy favor, Each ransomed captive sings: The isles for Thee are waiting, The deserts learn Thy praise, The hills and valleys, greeting, The songs responsive raise.

A hymn with the title, "Pilgrimage of Life," though very simple, is singularly beautiful and very tender in its appeal. The first stanza reads:

Gently, Lord, O gently lead us, Pilgrims in this vale of tears, Through the trials yet decreed us, Till our last great change appears.

Hastings did not cease writing and composing hymns until three days before his death. It is said that more of his hymns are found in the standard church hymnals of America than those of any other American writer. Their survival through almost a century is a testimony to their enduring quality.

Key's Hymn of Praise

Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise thee For the bliss Thy love bestows, For the pardoning grace that saves me, And the peace that from it flows. Help, O God, my weak endeavor; This dull soul to rapture raise; Thou must light the flame, or never Can my love be warmed to praise.

Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee, Wretched wanderer, far astray; Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee From the paths of death away; Praise, with love's devoutest feeling, Him who saw thy guilt-born fear, And, the light of hope revealing, Bade the blood-stained cross appear.

Lord, this bosom's ardent feeling Vainly would my lips express; Low before Thy footstool kneeling, Deign Thy suppliant's prayer to bless; Let Thy grace, my soul's chief treasure, Love's pure flame within me raise; And, since words can never measure, Let my life show forth Thy praise.

Francis Scott Key, 1823.

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY, PATRIOT AND HYMNIST

Francis Scott Key is known to every American child as the author of our national anthem, "The star spangled banner"; but his fame as a Christian hymnist has not gone abroad to the same degree. And yet, as the author of "Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee," he ranks among the foremost of American hymn-writers.

Key lived during the stirring days of our country's early history. His father was an officer in the Continental army who fought with distinction during the Revolutionary War. Francis was born at Frederick, Maryland, August 1, 1779. After receiving a legal education he began to practice law in Washington, and served as United States district attorney for three terms, holding that office at the time of his death.

The story of how he came to write "Star spangled banner" scarcely needs to be repeated. It was during the War of 1812 that Key was authorized by President Madison to visit the British fleet near the mouth of the Potomac in order to obtain the release of a friend who had been captured.

The British admiral granted Key's request, but owing to the fact that an attack was about to be made on Fort McHenry, which guarded the harbor of Baltimore, Key and his party were detained all night aboard the truce-boat on which they had come.

It was a night of great anxiety. A fierce bombardment continued during the hours of darkness, and as long as the shore fortifications replied to the cannonading, Key and his friends were certain that all was well. Toward morning, the firing ceased, and they were filled with dark forebodings. The others went below to obtain some sleep, but Key continued to pace the deck until the first streaks of dawn showed that the "flag was still there."

His joy was so unbounded that he seized a piece of paper, and hastily wrote the words of his famous anthem. It was not completed until later in the day, when he reached Baltimore and joined in the victorious joy that filled the city.

While "Star spangled banner" is not a Christian hymn, there are noble sentiments in it that reveal the writer at once as a devout Christian, and this was eminently true of Key.

As a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church he held a lay reader's license, and for many years read the service and visited the sick. He also conducted a Bible class in Sunday school. Although he lived in a slave state, he was finally moved by conscientious scruples to free his slaves. He also did much to alleviate conditions among other unfortunate blacks.

When the Protestant Episcopal Church in 1823 appointed a committee to prepare a new hymn-book for that body, Key was made a lay member of it. Another member of the committee was Dr. William Muhlenberg, who in that same year had published a little hymnal for use in his own congregation. It was in this hymnal, known as "Church Poetry", that Key's beautiful hymn, "Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee," was first published.

In Dr. Muhlenberg's hymn-book the hymn had only three stanzas, and that is the form in which it has since appeared in all other hymnals. In 1900, however, Key's autograph copy of the hymn was discovered, and it was found that the hymn originally had four stanzas. The missing one reads:

Praise thy Saviour God that drew thee To that cross, new life to give, Held a blood-sealed pardon to thee, Bade thee look to Him and live. Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee, Roused thee from thy fatal ease, Praise the grace whose promise warmed thee, Praise the grace that whispered peace.

Another excellent hymn, "Before the Lord we bow", was written by Key in 1832 for a Fourth of July celebration.

A bronze statue of Key, placed over his grave at Frederick, Md., shows him with his hand outstretched, as at the moment when he discovered the flag "still there," while his other hand is waving his hat exultantly.

Bryant's Home Mission Hymn

Look from Thy sphere of endless day, O God of mercy and of might! In pity look on those who stray Benighted, in this land of light.

In peopled vale, in lonely glen, In crowded mart, by stream or sea, How many of the sons of men Hear not the message sent from Thee!

Send forth Thy heralds, Lord, to call The thoughtless young, the hardened old, A scattered, homeless flock, till all Be gathered to Thy peaceful fold.

Send them Thy mighty Word to speak, Till faith shall dawn, and doubt depart, To awe the bold, to stay the weak, And bind and heal the broken heart.

Then all these wastes, a dreary scene That makes us sadden, as we gaze, Shall grow with living waters green, And lift to heaven the voice of praise.

William Cullen Bryant, 1840.

AMERICA'S FIRST POET AND HIS HYMNS

William Cullen Bryant, America's first great poet, was also a hymn-writer. Although he did not devote much of his thought and genius to sacred lyrics, he wrote at least two splendid hymns that merit a place in every hymn collection. The one, "Thou, whose unmeasured temple stands," is a church dedication hymn of rare beauty; the other, "Look from Thy sphere of endless day," is unquestionably one of the finest home mission hymns ever written.

Born at Cummington, Mass., November 3, 1794, he was educated at Williams College to be a lawyer. It was his writing of "Thanatopsis" as a boy of seventeen years that gave the first notice to the world that America had produced a great poet.

It is said that when the lines of "Thanatopsis" were submitted to Richard H. Dana, editor of the "North American Review," he was skeptical.

"No one on this side of the Atlantic," he declared, "is capable of writing such verses."

Bryant was brought up in a typical New England Puritan home. Family worship and strict attendance at public worship was the rule in the Bryant household. Every little while the children of the community would also gather in the district schoolhouse, where they would be examined in the Catechism by the parish minister, a venerable man who was loved by old and young alike.

While yet a little child Bryant began to pray that he might receive the gift of writing poetry. No doubt he had been influenced to a large degree in this desire by the fact that his father was a lover of verse and possessed a splendid library of the great English poets. The youthful Bryant was taught to memorize the noble hymns of Isaac Watts, and when he was only five years old he would stand on a chair and recite them to imaginary audiences.

Early in life Bryant came under the influence of the Unitarian doctrines which were then sweeping through New England as a reaction against the stern, harsh teachings of Puritanism. When he was only twenty-six years old he was invited to contribute to a volume of hymns then in course of preparation by the Unitarians. He responded by writing five hymns. Six years later he wrote "Thou, whose unmeasured temple stands" for the dedication of the Second Unitarian Church of New York City. He usually attended the First Congregational Unitarian Church of that city.

About thirty years later, however, when Bryant was sixty-four years old, a profound change occurred in his religious convictions. During a trip abroad his wife became critically ill in Naples. At first her life was despaired of, but when she finally was on the road to recovery Bryant sent for a warm friend of the family, Rev. R. C. Waterston, who was in Naples at the time. The latter tells of his meeting with the aged poet in the following words:

"On the following day, the weather being delightful, we walked in the royal park or garden overlooking the Bay of Naples. Never can I forget the beautiful spirit that breathed through every word he (Bryant) uttered, the reverent love, the confiding trust, the aspiring hope, the rooted faith.... He said that he had never united himself with the Church, which, with his present feeling, he would most gladly do. He then asked if it would be agreeable to me to come to his room on the morrow and administer the communion, adding that, as he had never been baptized, he desired that ordinance at the same time.

"The day following was the Sabbath, and a most heavenly day. In fulfilment of his wishes, in his own quiet room, a company of seven persons celebrated together the Lord's Supper.... Previous to the breaking of bread, William Cullen Bryant was baptized. With snow-white head and flowing beard, he stood like one of the ancient prophets, and perhaps never, since the days of the apostles, has a truer disciple professed allegiance to the divine Master."

Twenty years after this experience, in the last year of the poet's life, he made some contributions to the Methodist Episcopal hymnal. A revision of one of the hymns which he had written in 1820 for the Unitarian hymnal reveals his changed attitude toward the Lord Jesus Christ. For the Unitarian book he had written:

Deem not that they are blest alone Whose days a peaceful tenor keep; The God who loves our race has shown A blessing for the eyes that weep.

For the Methodist hymn-book he changed the third line to read:

The anointed Son of God makes known.

The hymn was sung in its changed form at the poet's funeral, as well as another beautiful hymn entitled "The Star of Bethlehem," written in 1875 for the semi-centennial of the Church of the Messiah in Boston.

An Exquisite Baptismal Hymn

Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding With the shepherd's kindest care, All the feeble gently leading, While the lambs Thy bosom share. Now, these little ones receiving, Fold them in Thy gracious arm; There, we know, Thy word believing, Only there secure from harm.

Never, from Thy pasture roving, Let them be the lion's prey; Let Thy tenderness, so loving, Keep them through life's dangerous way. Then, within Thy fold eternal, Let them find a resting place, Feed in pastures ever vernal, Drink the rivers of Thy grace.

William Augustus Muhlenberg, 1826.

THE HYMN-WRITER OF THE MUHLENBERGS

William Augustus Muhlenberg, one of America's early hymn-writers, came from a most distinguished family. His great grandfather, Henry Melchior Muhlenberg, was the "patriarch of the Lutheran Church in America," having come to these shores from Germany in 1742, and being the founder in that year of the first permanent Lutheran organization in the new world.

A son of the patriarch and grandfather of the hymn-writer bore the name of Frederick Augustus Muhlenberg. He, too, was a Lutheran minister, but during the stirring days of the Revolutionary period he entered into the political affairs of the struggling colonies. He was president of the convention which ratified the Constitution of the United States and also served as first speaker of the new House of Representatives. His brother, Rev. Peter Muhlenberg, was also a distinguished patriot. When the Revolution broke out, he was serving a congregation at Woodstock, Va. It was he who stood in the pulpit of his church and, throwing aside his clerical robe, stood revealed in the uniform of a Continental colonel.

"There is a time to preach and a time to pray," he cried, "but these times have passed away. There is a time to fight, and that time has now come!"

Thereupon he called upon the men of his congregation to enlist in his regiment. Before the war ended he had risen to the rank of major general.

William Augustus Muhlenberg, the hymn-writer, was born in Philadelphia in 1796. Since the German language was then being used exclusively in the German Lutheran churches, he and his little sister were allowed to attend Christ Episcopal Church. In this way William Augustus drifted away from the Church of his great forbears, and when he grew up he became a clergyman in the Episcopal communion.

It is evident that Muhlenberg brought something of the spirit of the "singing church" into the church of his adoption, for in 1821 he issued a tract with the title, "A Plea for Christian Hymns." It appears that the Episcopal Church at this time was using a prayer-book that included only fifty-seven hymns, and no one felt the poverty of his Church in this respect more keenly than did Muhlenberg.

Two years later the General Convention of the Episcopal body voted to prepare a hymn-book, and Muhlenberg was made a member of the committee. One of his associates was Francis Scott Key, author of "Star spangled banner."

As a member of the committee Muhlenberg contributed four original hymns to the new collection. They were "I would not live alway," "Like Noah's weary dove," "Shout the glad tidings, triumphantly sing," and "Saviour, who Thy flock art leading." The latter is a baptism hymn and is one of the most exquisite lyrics on that theme ever written. Although Muhlenberg never married, he had a very deep love for children. No service seemed so hallowed to him as the baptism of a little child. It is said that shortly after his ordination, when asked to officiate at such a rite, Muhlenberg flushed and hesitated, and then asked a bishop who was present to baptize the babe. The latter, however, insisted that the young clergyman should carry out the holy ordinance, and from that day there was no duty that afforded Muhlenberg more joy.

Muhlenberg often expressed regret that he had written "I would not live alway." It seems that the poem was called into being in 1824, following a "heart-breaking disappointment in the matter of love." Muhlenberg was a young man at the time, and in his later years he sought to alter it in such a way that it would breathe more of the hopeful spirit of the New Testament. He contended that Paul's words, "For me to live is Christ" were far better than Job's lament, "I would not live alway." However, the hymn as originally written had become so fixed in the consciousness of the Church, that all efforts of the author to revise it were in vain.

Nearly all the hymns of Muhlenberg that have lived were written during his earlier years. His later ministry centered in New York City, where he was head of a boys' school for a number of years, and later rector of the Church of the Holy Communion. He soon became an outstanding leader in the great metropolis. After having founded St. Luke's hospital, the first church institution of its kind in New York City, he spent the last twenty years of his life as its superintendent.

His death occurred when he was past eighty years. It is said that when the end was drawing near, the hospital chaplain came to his bedside to pray for his recovery.

"Let us have an understanding about this," said the dying Muhlenberg. "You are asking God to restore me and I am asking God to take me home. There must not be a contradiction in our prayers, for it is evident that He cannot answer them both."

The Way, the Truth, and the Life

Thou art the Way; to Thee alone From sin and death we flee, And he who would the Father seek, Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee.

Thou art the Truth; Thy Word alone Sound wisdom can impart; Thou only canst inform the mind, And purify the heart.

Thou art the Life; the rending tomb Proclaims Thy conquering arm; And those who put their trust in Thee Nor death nor hell shall harm.

Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life; Grant us that Way to know, That Truth to keep, that Life to win Whose joys eternal flow.

George Washington Doane, 1824.

THE LYRICS OF BISHOP DOANE

Critics will forever disagree on the subject of the relative merits of great hymns. Bishop George Washington Doane's fine hymn, "Thou art the Way; to Thee alone," has been declared by some to be the foremost of all hymns written by American authors. Dr. Breed, on the other hand, declares that it is "by no means the equal" of other hymns by Doane. Another authority observes that it "rather stiffly and mechanically paraphrases" the passage on which it is founded, while Edward S. Ninde rejects this conclusion by contending that although "metrical expositions of Scriptures are apt to be stilted and spiritless ... this one is a success."

Ninde, however, does not agree that it is "the first of American hymns," reserving this honor, as do most critics, for Ray Palmer's "My faith looks up to Thee."

Bishop Doane was born in Trenton, N. J., May 27, 1799. This was the year in which George Washington died. The future hymn-writer was named after the great patriot. At the age of nineteen he was graduated by Union College with the highest scholastic honors. After teaching for a season, he became pastor of Trinity Episcopal Church, Boston, Mass., the church afterwards made famous by Phillips Brooks.

When only thirty-three years old he was elevated to the bishopric of New Jersey, which position he held until his death in 1859. By this time he had already won fame as a hymn-writer. It was in 1824, at the age of twenty-five, that Doane published a little volume of lyrics entitled "Songs by the Way." One of the hymns in this collection was the beautiful paraphrase, "Thou art the Way; to Thee alone." This hymn alone would have been sufficient to have perpetuated the name of the young poet, but there was another gem in the same collection that will always be treasured by those who love Christian song. It is the exquisite evening hymn:

Softly now the light of day Fades upon my sight away; Free from care, from labor free, Lord, I would commune with Thee.

Among the many achievements of this versatile bishop was the founding of Saint Mary's Hall, a school for young women, at Burlington, N. J. Doane lies buried in the neighboring churchyard, and it is said that the students on every Wednesday evening at chapel services sing "Softly now the light of day" as a memorial tribute to the founder of the institution.

Both of these hymns were quickly recognized as possessing unusual merit, and almost immediately found their way into Christian hymn-books. Today there is scarcely a hymnal published in the English language that does not contain them.

But Bishop Doane's fame does not rest on these two hymns alone. He was destined to write a third one, equally great but of a very different character from the other two. It is the stirring missionary hymn:

Fling out the banner! let it float Skyward and seaward, high and wide; The sun that lights its shining folds, The cross, on which the Saviour died.

It was written in 1848 in response to a request from the young women of St. Mary's Hall for a hymn to be used at a flag-raising. The third stanza is one of rare beauty:

Fling out the banner! heathen lands Shall see from far the glorious sight, And nations, crowding to be born, Baptize their spirits in its light.

The hymn, as may be surmised, is based on the passage from the Psaltery: "Thou hast given a banner to them that fear thee, that it may be displayed because of the truth."

Bishop Doane was a zealous advocate of missions. It was during his childhood that the modern missionary movement had its inception and swept like a tidal wave over the Christian world. "Fling out the banner" is a reflection of the remarkable enthusiasm that filled his own soul and that revealed itself in his aggressive missionary leadership. Indeed, he became known in his own Church as "the missionary bishop of America."

A son, William C. Doane, also became one of the most distinguished bishops of the Episcopal Church. Writing of his father's rare gifts as a hymnist, he declares that his heart was "full of song. It oozed out in his conversation, in his sermons, in everything that he did. Sometimes in a steamboat, often when the back of a letter was his only paper, the sweetest things came."

The Quaker Poet's Prayer

Dear Lord and Father of mankind, Forgive our feverish ways; Reclothe us in our rightful mind, In purer lives Thy service find, In deeper reverence, praise.

In simple trust like theirs who heard, Beside the Syrian sea, The gracious calling of the Lord, Let us, like them, without a word Rise up and follow Thee.

O Sabbath rest by Galilee! O calm of hills above, Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee The silence of eternity Interpreted by love.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness, Till all our strivings cease; Take from our souls the strain and stress, And let our ordered lives confess The beauty of Thy peace.

Breathe through the heat of our desire Thy coolness and Thy balm; Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire, Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire, O still, small voice of calm.

John Greenleaf Whittier, 1872.

THE QUAKER POET AS A HYMN-WRITER

Of all American poets, there is none who is so genuinely loved as John Greenleaf Whittier. A man of the people, a true American, and full of the milk of human kindness, Whittier's poetry reflects so much of his own character that it will never lose its singular charm and beauty.

Whittier's life is a story of struggle. He was born of humble Quaker parents at Haverhill, Mass., December 17, 1807. Instead of receiving the advantages of an education, he knew of nothing but drudgery and hard work throughout his childhood. But the poetic spark was in him even as a child. One day, when a small boy, he sat before the kitchen fire and wrote on his slate:

And must I always swing the flail And help to fill the milking pail? I wish to go away to school; I do not wish to be a fool.

No doubt it was the memory of these childhood experiences that later inspired him to write with such depth of feeling and understanding the lines of "The Barefoot Boy":

Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lips, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace: From my heart I give thee joy-- I was once a barefoot boy!

Through hard work he managed to save enough to attend Haverhill academy two seasons. Though this was the extent of his scholastic training, he never ceased to be a student.

A wandering Scotchman who chanced to visit the quiet Quaker home and sang such rollicking (!) lyrics as "Bonny Doon," "Highland Mary," and "Auld Lang Syne" kindled the boy's imagination. He immediately borrowed a copy of Burns' poems from the village schoolmaster, and now for the first time he seriously began to think of becoming a poet.

When he was only twenty-five years old he had already begun to attract attention by his poetry. He had also achieved some success in politics and was planning to run for Congress. Soon, however, came the call of the Abolition movement, and Whittier, always true to his Quaker conception of "the inner voice," determined to sacrifice all of his political ambitions to become a champion of the slaves.

It was not long before he was recognized as preeminently the poet of anti-slavery, as Phillips was its orator, Mrs. Stowe its novelist, and Sumner its statesman. The fervor with which he threw himself into the cause may be seen reflected in the stirring lines of his poems written in those days, notably "The Star of Bethlehem." However, since his anti-slavery poems are more vehement than inspiring, and as the events which suggested them were temporary, they will be read with constantly waning interest.

The vigor with which he espoused the Abolition cause stirred up deep resentment among his enemies. At Philadelphia, where he published "The Pennsylvania Free-man," the office of the paper was attacked by a mob and burned. But Whittier was not dismayed. When Daniel Webster in 1850 made his notable defense of the Fugitive Slave law in the United States senate, Whittier wrote "Ichabod" in reply.

At a time when the Abolition movement seemed to be losing, rather than gaining, ground, the poet gave expression to his faith in God in the beautiful poem, "Seed-Time and Harvest." His duty, as he saw it, was to sow the seed; God would take care of the harvest.

Because the Quakers do not sing in their services, Whittier knew little of music. However, he once wrote: "A good hymn is the best use to which poetry can be devoted, but I do not claim that I have succeeded in composing one."

And yet, the poems of Whittier, notably "Our Master" and "The Eternal Goodness," have been the source of some of the finest hymns in the English language. There are at least seventy-five hymns now in use that bear his name. Practically all of them are extracts from longer poems. "Dear Lord and Father of mankind," "I bow my forehead to the dust," and "We need not climb the heavenly steeps" are among the best loved of Whittier's hymns. Probably his most famous poem is "Snowbound."

Whittier died in 1892. His last words were, "Love--love to all the world." A friend bent over the dying man and whispered the words of his poem, "At Last."

Palmer's Famous Hymn

My faith looks up to Thee, Thou Lamb of Calvary, Saviour divine; Now hear me while I pray, Take all my guilt away, O let me from this day Be wholly Thine.

May Thy rich grace impart Strength to my fainting heart, My zeal inspire; As Thou hast died for me, O may my love for Thee Pure, warm, and changeless be, A living fire.

When life's dark maze I tread, And griefs around me spread, Be Thou my Guide; Bid darkness turn to day, Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From Thee aside.

When ends life's transient dream, When death's cold, sullen stream Shall o'er me roll, Blest Saviour, then, in love, Fear and distrust remove; O bear me safe above, A ransomed soul.

Ray Palmer, 1830.

AMERICA'S GREATEST HYMN AND ITS AUTHOR

Although a number of America's great poets wrote hymns, it was not given to any one of them to compose America's finest Christian lyric. Bryant wrote "Look from Thy sphere of endless day," Whittier was the author of "Dear Lord and Father of mankind," Holmes composed "O Love Divine, that stooped to share," and Longfellow has given us "I heard the bells of Christmas day;" but, beautiful as these hymns are, none of them can compare with "My faith looks up to Thee." This, "the most precious contribution which American genius has yet made to the hymnology of the Christian Church," came from the pen of a very humble but gifted minister, Ray Palmer.

Palmer, who was born at Little Compton, R. I., November 12, 1808, was a direct descendant of John Alden and his good wife, Priscilla. One of his forebears was William Palmer, who came to Plymouth in 1621.

Through pressure of poverty Ray found it necessary to leave home at the age of thirteen, after having received a grammar education. For two years he clerked in a Boston dry goods store, during which time he passed through some deep spiritual experiences, with the result that he gave his heart to God.

Friends who recognized unusual gifts in the young man urged him to attend school. Eventually he graduated from Phillips Andover Academy and from Yale. For a while he taught in New York and New Haven, but in 1835 he was ordained to the Congregational ministry. He served a congregation in Bath, Maine, for fifteen years, and another at Albany, N. Y., for a like period, after which he became Corresponding Secretary of the American Congregational Union, a position which he held until 1878, when he was compelled to retire because of failing health.

It was while he was teaching in New York City that "My faith looks up to Thee" was written. He was only twenty-two years old at the time, and he had no thought when writing it that he was composing a hymn for general use. He tells in his own account of the hymn how he had been reading a little German poem of two stanzas, picturing a penitent sinner before the cross. Deeply moved by the lines, he translated them into English, and then added the four stanzas that form his own hymn.

The words of the hymn, he tells us, were born out of his own spiritual experience.

"I gave form to what I felt, by writing, with little effort, the stanzas," he said. "I recollect I wrote them with very tender emotion, and ended the last lines with tears."

"A ransomed soul!" Who would not have been moved to deep emotion after having written a poem with such a sublime closing line!

This happened in the year 1832, almost a hundred years ago.

Palmer copied the poem into a little note-book which he constantly carried in his pocket. Frequently he would read it as a part of his private devotion. It never seemed to occur to him that it might some day be used as a hymn.

But God was watching over that little poem. One day as Palmer was walking along the busy streets of Boston, he chanced to meet Lowell Mason, the famous musician and composer of Savannah, Ga. Mason was compiling a hymn-book at the time and asked Palmer, who had established something of a reputation as a poet, if he could give him some words for which he could compose music. Palmer remembered the poem in his note-book, and, while the two men stepped into a nearby store, a copy of the poem was made and given to Mason.

When the two men met again a few days later, Mason exclaimed: "Dr. Palmer, you may live many years and do many good things, but I think you will be best known to posterity as the author of 'My faith looks up to Thee.'"

Mason wrote the beautiful tune known as "Olivet" for the hymn, and perhaps the music contributed as much as the words to endear it to the hearts of millions. Certainly here is an instance where words and music are wedded, and should never be parted asunder.

Palmer wrote many other splendid hymns. Some of his most famous are translations from the Latin. His rendering of the noted hymn of Bernard of Clairvaux, "O Jesus, Joy of loving hearts," is a gem of wondrous beauty. It has become a favorite communion hymn.

In his ministry Palmer laid much emphasis on the Lord's Supper, and many of his hymns were written for communion services. He once said, in a communion address: "When the cares and the business of life have hurried me hither and thither with no little distraction of mind, I love to come back again, and sit down before the cross, and gaze on the blessed Sufferer with silent, tender memories. It is like coming once more into the sunshine after long walking through gloom and mist."

Palmer's whole life was characterized by a warm, almost passionate, devotion to Christ. His faith in the Saviour was so childlike and strong that it enabled him to rise above all external burdens and trials. Something of his personal love to Christ may be seen beautifully reflected in his hymn, "Jesus, these eyes have never seen," which was his own favorite and which many regard as inferior only to "My faith looks up to Thee." It is such an appealing lyric, we feel we must quote it in full.

Jesus, these eyes have never seen That radiant form of Thine! The veil of sense hangs dark between Thy blessed face and mine!

I see Thee not, I hear Thee not, Yet art Thou oft with me! And earth hath ne'er so dear a spot As where I meet with Thee.

Like some bright dream that comes unsought, When slumbers o'er me roll, Thine image ever fills my thought, And charms my ravished soul.

Yet though I have not seen, and still Must rest in faith alone, I love Thee, dearest Lord, and will, Unseen, but not unknown.

When death these mortal eyes shall seal, And still this throbbing heart, The rending veil shall Thee reveal, All glorious as Thou art.

Palmer looked upon his hymns as gifts from heaven, and therefore he refused to accept money for their use. He insisted, however, that those who published his hymns should print them exactly as they were written. He regarded the somewhat common practice of tampering with texts as "immoral."

Palmer died in 1887. On the day before he breathed his last, he was heard repeating feebly the last stanza of his favorite hymn:

When death these mortal eyes shall seal, And still this throbbing heart, The rending veil shall Thee reveal, All glorious as Thou art.

A Hopeful Missionary Lyric

The morning light is breaking; The darkness disappears; The sons of earth are waking To penitential tears; Each breeze that sweeps the ocean Brings tidings from afar, Of nations in commotion, Prepared for Zion's war.

See heathen nations bending Before the God we love, And thousand hearts ascending In gratitude above; While sinners, now confessing, The gospel call obey, And seek the Saviour's blessing, A nation in a day.

Blest river of salvation, Pursue thine onward way; Flow thou to every nation, Nor in thy richness stay; Stay not till all the lowly Triumphant reach their home: Stay not till all the holy Proclaim: "The Lord is come!"

Samuel Francis Smith, 1832.

SAMUEL SMITH, A PATRIOTIC HYMN-WRITER

Nearly a century has now elapsed since our national hymn, "America," was written, and, despite all efforts to displace it by other anthems, it seems to retain its hold on the hearts of the people. Samuel Francis Smith will always be gratefully remembered as the author of this hymn, but we should not lose sight of the fact that the New England pastor who gave his country such an inspiring patriotic song has also given to the Christian Church some of the choicest gems in her hymnody.

Associated with "My country, 'tis of thee" will be the stirring missionary hymn, "The morning light is breaking," the two being regarded as the foremost of Dr. Smith's poetical works. Both were written in the winter of 1832, when he was only twenty-four years old. He was a student at Andover Theological Seminary at the time.

Altogether Dr. Smith contributed nearly 150 hymns to American hymnody, many of them on missionary themes. They were written in an era that witnessed a remarkable revival of interest in foreign missions. The famous "Haystack Meeting" at Williams College, which marked the beginning of the modern missionary movement in America, was held in 1806, just two years before Smith was born. Smith himself, while a theological student at Andover, caught the spirit of the times and felt constrained to become a missionary.

At this time reports came from Adoniram Judson in Burmah that, after years of painful disappointment and failure, the light was breaking, and multitudes were turning to Christ. Smith was fired with hopeful enthusiasm, and it was in this spirit of glad exultation that he sat down to write his immortal missionary hymn:

The morning light is breaking, The darkness disappears; The sons of earth are waking To penitential tears.

Many other missionary hymns came from the gifted writer in succeeding years, and immediately after his graduation from Andover he became editor of a missionary magazine, through which he wielded a great influence. When the "Lone Star" mission in India was in danger of being abandoned because of lack of funds, Smith did much to save it by writing a poem with the title, "Lone Star." Another missionary hymn by him begins with the line, "Onward speed thy conquering flight." However, it does not attain to the poetic heights of "The morning light is breaking," which has been compared to Heber's "From Greenland's icy mountains" in spiritual fervor and literary merit.

Another interesting hymn written by Smith during his student days is called "The Missionary's Farewell." The first stanza reads:

Yes, my native land, I love thee; All thy scenes, I love them well; Friends, connections, happy country, Can I bid you all farewell? Can I leave you, Far in heathen lands to dwell?

Although Dr. Smith never carried out his earlier resolve to become a missionary, he visited many foreign fields and had the satisfaction of hearing his own hymns sung in many tongues. Referring to "The morning light is breaking," he once wrote:

"It has been a great favorite at missionary gatherings, and I have myself heard it sung in five or six different languages in Europe and Asia. It is a favorite with the Burmans, Karens and Telugus in Asia, from whose lips I have heard it repeatedly."

A son of the distinguished hymn-writer became a missionary to the Burmans.

Dr. Smith filled many important pulpits in New England during his long and illustrious career. At one time he was a professor in modern languages. He was an unusual linguist, being familiar with fifteen tongues. In 1894, a year before his death, he was still vigorous in mind and body, writing and preaching, although he was eighty-six years old. It was in this year that he was found looking around for a textbook that would enable him to begin the study of Russian. It was in this year, too, that he wrote one of his finest hymns, for a church dedication.

Founded on Thee, our only Lord, On Thee, the everlasting Rock, Thy Church shall stand as stands Thy Word, Nor fear the storm, nor dread the shock.

For Thee our waiting spirits yearn, For Thee this house of praise we rear; To Thee with longing hearts we turn; Come, fix Thy glorious presence here.

Come, with Thy Spirit and Thy power, The Conqueror, once the Crucified; Our God, our Strength, our King, our Tower, Here plant Thy throne, and here abide.

Accept the work our hands have wrought; Accept, O God, this earthly shrine; Be Thou our Rock, our Life, our Thought, And we, as living temples, Thine.

The celebrated hymnist happily has left a personal account of how he wrote "America." Lowell Mason, the composer, had given him a collection of German books containing songs for children with the request that Smith should examine them and translate anything of merit.

"One dismal day in February, 1832," he wrote long afterward, "about half an hour before sunset, I was turning over the leaves of one of the music books when my eye rested on the tune which is now known as 'America.' I liked the spirited movement of it, not knowing it at that time to be 'God save the King.' I glanced at the German words and saw that they were patriotic, and instantly felt the impulse to write a patriotic hymn of my own, adapted to the tune. Picking up a scrap of waste paper which lay near me, I wrote at once, probably within half an hour, the hymn 'America' as it is now known everywhere. The whole hymn stands today as it stood on the bit of waste paper, five or six inches long and two and a half wide."

Dr. Smith was a member of the celebrated Harvard class of 1829, to which Oliver Wendell Holmes also belonged. The latter wrote a poem for one of the class reunions, in which he referred to the distinguished hymn-writer in the following lines:

And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith-- Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; But he shouted a song for the brave and the free-- Just read on his medal, 'My country,' 'of thee.'

On November 19, 1895, the venerable pastor and poet was called suddenly to his eternal home. He died as he was taking a train from Boston to preach in a neighboring town.

A Pearl among Christmas Carols

It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold; "Peace on the earth, good will to men, From heaven's all-gracious King:" The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come With peaceful wings unfurled, And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world; Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing.

And ye, beneath life's crushing load, Whose forms are bending low, Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow-- Look now! for glad and golden hours Come swiftly on the wing: O rest beside the weary road, And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hastening on By prophet-bards foretold, When with the ever-circling years Comes round the age of gold; When peace shall over all the earth Its ancient splendors fling, And the whole world send back the song Which now the angels sing.

Edmund Hamilton Sears, 1834.

TWO FAMOUS CHRISTMAS HYMNS AND THEIR AUTHOR

To be the writer of one great hymn classic on the nativity is an enviable distinction, but to be the author of two immortal Christmas lyrics is fame that has probably come to only one man, and he an American. His name was Edmund Hamilton Sears, and so long as Christians celebrate Christmas, they will sing the two hymns he wrote--"It came upon a midnight clear" and "Calm on the listening ear of night."

Strangely enough, an interval of sixteen years separated the writing of the two hymns. Sears had just graduated from Union College at the age of twenty-four when he wrote "Calm on the listening ear of night." It appeared in the "Boston Observer," and was immediately recognized as a poem of unusual merit. Oliver Wendell Holmes spoke of it as "one of the finest and most beautiful hymns ever written."

Sixteen years elapsed, and then at Christmas time in 1850 the Christian world was delighted to find in the "Christian Register" another lyric, "It came upon the midnight clear," which many believe is superior to the earlier hymn. The language of this hymn is so surpassingly lovely and its movement so rhythmical, it fairly sings itself.

There is, in fact, a close resemblance between the two hymns, and yet they are different. While the earlier hymn is largely descriptive, the later one is characterized by a note of joyous optimism and triumphant faith. In Sears' "Sermons and Songs" he published the one at the beginning, and the other at the close, of a sermon for Christmas Eve on 1 Tim. 2:6.

Each of the two hymns had five stanzas in its original form. The fourth stanza of the older hymn is usually omitted. It reads:

Light on thy hills, Jerusalem! The Saviour now is born; More bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains Breaks the first Christmas morn; And brighter on Moriah's brow, Crowned with her temple-spires, Which first proclaim the new-born light, Clothed with its orient fires.

The stanza omitted from the second Christmas hymn sounds the only minor note heard in that otherwise hopeful and joyous lyric:

Yet with the woes of sin and strife The world hath suffered long; Beneath the angel-strain have rolled Two thousand years of wrong; And man, at war with man, hears not The love song which they bring: O hush the noise, ye men of strife, And hear the angels sing!

Sears was a native of New England, having been born in Berkshire County, Massachusetts, in 1810. He completed his theological course at Harvard Divinity School in 1837, whereupon he entered the Unitarian Church, serving as a pastor for nearly forty years.

Surprise has often been expressed that a Unitarian could write such marvelous hymns on the nativity; but Sears was a Unitarian in name rather than in fact. He leaned strongly toward Swedenborgian teachings, and believed implicitly in the deity of Christ.

In addition to his hymns, he wrote a few works in prose. His books on "Regeneration," "Foregleams of Immortality," and "The Fourth Gospel the Heart of Christ" were widely read in his day. These have now been almost entirely forgotten, but his two great hymns go singing through the years. They are found in practically all standard hymn-books, although the final stanza of "It came upon the midnight clear" is often altered. Sears died in 1876.

Mrs. Stowe's Hymn Masterpiece

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee; Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee!

Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows, The solemn hush of nature newly born; Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration, In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer; Sweet the repose beneath Thy wings o'ershading, But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.

So shall it be at last, in that bright morning, When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee; O for that hour when fairer than the dawning Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!

Harriet Beecher Stowe, 1855

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE AND HER HYMNS

Through the fame that her book, "Uncle Tom's Cabin," brought her, the name of Harriet Beecher Stowe has become almost a household word on both sides of the Atlantic. But not many, perhaps, are familiar with Mrs. Stowe the hymn-writer. And yet she wrote a number of hymns that are worthy of finding a place in the best of collections. Indeed, for sheer poetic beauty there is probably not a single American lyric that can excel "Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh."

It was her brother, Henry Ward Beecher, who introduced Mrs. Stowe as a hymn-writer, when he included three of her hymns in the "Plymouth Collection," which he edited in 1865. One of the three was the hymn mentioned above; the other two were "That mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord" and "When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean."

Like the Wesley family in England, the Beecher family became one of the most famous in religious and literary circles in America. Harriet Beecher was born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1812. Her father was the noted Dr. Lyman Beecher, a distinguished clergyman of his day. Her mother, a very devout Christian, died when Harriet was less than four years of age. Her dying prayer was that her six sons might be called into the ministry. That prayer was answered, and the youngest of them, Henry Ward Beecher, who was only a boy when the mother died, became one of America's greatest preachers. We do not know what the dying mother's prayer for her daughter was, but we do know that Harriet Beecher achieved fame such as comes to few women. Even as a child she revealed a spiritual nature of unusual depth. An earnest sermon preached by her father when she was fourteen made such an impression on her youthful heart that she determined to give herself wholly to Christ. She tells of the experience in these words:

"As soon as my father came home and was seated in his study, I went up to him and fell in his arms, saying, 'Father, I have given myself to Jesus, and He has taken me.' I never shall forget the expression of his face as he looked down into my earnest childish eyes; it was so sweet, so gentle, and like sunlight breaking out upon a landscape. 'Is it so?' he said, holding me silently to his heart, as I felt the hot tears fall on my head. 'Then has a new flower blossomed in the kingdom this day.'"

In 1832 the father removed to Cincinnati, Ohio, where he became president of Lane Theological Seminary. Here Harriet married Prof. Calvin E. Stowe, a member of the faculty. Many misfortunes and sorrows came into her life, but always she was sustained by her strong faith in God, and she bore them with unusual Christian fortitude. In 1849 her infant boy was snatched from her by the dreadful cholera scourge. Her husband, broken in health, was in an Eastern sanatorium at the time, and all the cares and anxieties of the household fell upon the shoulders of the brave young wife. A letter written to her husband, dated June 29, 1849, gives a graphic description of the plague as it was then raging in Cincinnati. She wrote:

"This week has been unusually fatal. The disease in the city has been malignant and virulent. Hearse drivers have scarce been allowed to unharness their horses, while furniture carts and common vehicles are often employed for the removal of the dead. The sable trains which pass our windows, the frequent indications of crowding haste, and the absence of reverent decency have, in many cases, been most painful.... On Tuesday, one hundred and sixteen deaths from cholera were reported, and that night the air was of that peculiarly oppressive, deathly kind that seems to lie like lead on the brain and soul. As regards your coming home, I am decidedly opposed to it."

Under date of July 26, she wrote again: "At last it is over and our dear little one is gone from us. He is now among the blessed. My Charley--my beautiful, loving, gladsome baby, so loving, so sweet, so full of life, and hope and strength--now lies shrouded, pale and cold, in the room below.... I write as though there were no sorrow like my sorrow, yet there has been in this city, as in the land of Egypt, scarce a house without its dead. This heart-break, this anguish, has been everywhere, and when it will end God alone knows."

The succeeding years brought other tragedies to the sorely tried family. In 1857 the eldest son, Henry, pride of his mother's heart, was drowned at the close of his freshman year at Dartmouth College. Then came the Civil War with its bloody battles. At Gettysburg a third son, Fred, was wounded in the head by a piece of shrapnel. Although it did not prove fatal, his mental faculties were permanently impaired.

Through all these afflictions the marvelous faith of Mrs. Stowe remained firm and unshaken. Many years afterwards, in looking back upon these bitter experiences, she wrote: "I thank God there is one thing running through all of them from the time I was thirteen years old, and that is the intense unwavering sense of Christ's educating, guiding presence and care."

It was in the midst of these dark tragedies that Mrs. Stowe wrote a hymn entitled "The Secret."

When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down, beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.

Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth, And silver waves chime ever peacefully; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.

So to the heart that knows Thy love, O Purest! There is a temple sacred evermore, And all the babble of life's angry voices Dies in hushed stillness at its sacred door.

Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth, And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord, in Thee!

O Rest of rests! O Peace serene, eternal! Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never; And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth Fulness of joy, forever and forever.

It was the writing of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" that brought world-wide fame to this unusual mother. The family had moved from Cincinnati to Brunswick, Maine, where Professor Stowe had accepted a position in the faculty of Bowdoin College. There were six children now and the father's income was meager. In order to help meet the family expenses, Mrs. Stowe began to write articles for a magazine known as the "National Era." She labored under difficulties. "If I sit by the open fire in the parlor," she wrote, "my back freezes, if I sit in my bedroom and try to write my head and my feet are cold.... I can earn four hundred dollars a year by writing, but I don't want to feel that I must, and when weary with teaching the children, and tending the baby, and buying provisions, and mending dresses, and darning stockings, I sit down and write a piece for some paper."

The passage of the Fugitive Slave Act aroused the deepest feeling among Abolitionists in the North. While living in Cincinnati her family had aided the so-called "underground railway," by which runaway slaves were helped in their efforts to reach the Canadian boundary. Now Mrs. Stowe's spirit burned within her. "I wish," she writes at this period, "some Martin Luther would arise to set this community right."

It was then she conceived the idea of writing "Uncle Tom's Cabin." In the month of February, 1851, while attending communion service in the college church at Brunswick, the scene of the death of Uncle Tom passed before her mind like the unfolding of a vision. When she returned home she immediately wrote down the mental picture she had seen. Then she gathered her children around her and read what she had written. Two of them broke into violent weeping, the first of many thousands who have wept over "Uncle Tom's Cabin."

The first chapter was not completed until the following April, and on June 5 it began to appear in serial form in the "National Era." She had intended to write a short tale of a few chapters, but as her task progressed the conviction grew on her that she had been intrusted with a holy mission. Afterwards she said: "I could not control the story; it wrote itself." At another time she remarked: "The Lord himself wrote it, and I was but the humblest of instruments in His hand. To Him alone should be given all the praise."

Mrs. Stowe received $300 for her serial story! However, scarcely had the last instalment appeared when a Boston publisher made arrangements to print it in book form. Within one year it had passed through 120 editions, and four months after the book was off the press the author had received $10,000 in royalties. Almost in a day Mrs. Stowe had become one of the most famous women in the world, and the specter of poverty had been banished forever. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" exerted a profound influence not only over the American people, but its fame spread to Europe. The year following its publication Jenny Lind came to America. Asked to contribute to a fund Mrs. Stowe was raising for the purpose of purchasing the freedom of a slave family, the "Swedish Nightingale" gladly responded, also writing a letter to Mrs. Stowe in the following prophetic vein: "I have the feeling about 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' that great changes will take place by and by, from the impression people receive from it, and that the writer of that book can fall asleep today or tomorrow with the bright, sweet consciousness of having been a strong means in the Creator's hand of having accomplished essential good."

Tributes like this came to Mrs. Stowe from the great and lowly in all parts of the world.

Concerning Jenny Lind's singing, Mrs. Stowe wrote to her husband from New York: "Well, we have heard Jenny Lind, and the affair was a bewildering dream of sweetness and beauty. Her face and movements are full of poetry and feeling. She has the artless grace of a little child, the poetic effect of a wood-nymph."

Mrs. Stowe died in 1896 at the ripe age of eighty-four. Not long before her death she wrote to a friend: "I have sometimes had in my sleep strange perceptions of a vivid spiritual life near to and with Christ, and multitudes of holy ones, and the joy of it is like no other joy--it cannot be told in the language of the world.... The inconceivable loveliness of Christ!... I was saying as I awoke:

'Tis joy enough, my All in all, At Thy dear feet to lie. Thou wilt not let me lower fall, And none can higher fly."

Bishop Coxe's Missionary Hymn

Saviour, sprinkle many nations, Fruitful let Thy sorrows be; By Thy pains and consolations Draw the Gentiles unto Thee. Of Thy cross the wondrous story, Be it to the nations told; Let them see Thee in Thy glory, And Thy mercy manifold.

Far and wide, though all unknowing, Pants for Thee each mortal breast: Human tears for Thee are flowing, Human hearts in Thee would rest. Thirsting as for dews of even, As the new-mown grass for rain, Thee they seek, as God of heaven, Thee as Man, for sinners slain.

Saviour, lo, the isles are waiting, Stretched the hand, and strained the sight, For Thy Spirit, new-creating, Love's pure flame, and wisdom's light. Give the word, and of the preacher Speed the foot, and touch the tongue, Till on earth by every creature, Glory to the Lamb be sung.

Arthur Cleveland Coxe, 1851.

A HYMN WRITTEN ON TWO SHORES

"Saviour, sprinkle many nations" has been called the "loveliest of missionary hymns." The praise is scarcely too great. All the elements that make a great hymn are present here. Scriptural in language and devotional in spirit, it is fervent and touching in its appeal and exquisitely beautiful in poetic expression. It was given to the Church by Arthur Cleveland Coxe, an American bishop, in 1851, and since that time it has made its victorious course around the world.

A study of the hymn is interesting. The first stanza at once suggests the words of Jesus, uttered in the last week of His life, when Greek pilgrims in Jerusalem came seeking for Him: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." In the second stanza the author no doubt had in mind the immortal words of St. Augustine: "Thou, O Lord, hast made me for Thyself, and my heart can find no rest till it rest in Thee." And in the final stanza we find almost an echo of the thought expressed by Paul in Romans: "How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!"

Curiously enough, this beautiful missionary lyric was written on two shores of the Atlantic. It was on Good Friday, in the year 1850, that the first stanza was written by Bishop Coxe at his home in Hartford, Conn. For lack of time, however, or because the needed inspiration did not come to him the unfinished manuscript was laid aside.

The next year he visited England, and one day, while wandering about the campus of Magdalen College, Oxford, the thought flashed through his mind that he had never completed the hymn. Finding a scrap of paper and a pencil, he sat down to write, and in a few moments the touching words of the two concluding stanzas were composed, and the hymn was sent on its way to stir the heart of the world.

Bishop Coxe was not primarily a hymn-writer. His fame rests chiefly on his religious ballads. It was in 1840, when a young student of twenty-two, that he published his first volume, entitled "Christian Ballads." These are mostly moral poems, impressive and challenging in character, but not usually suitable as hymns. One of them, however, bearing the name of "Chelsea," has yielded the famous hymn, "O where are kings and empires now?"

An interesting story is told concerning this hymn. In 1873 the General Conference of the Evangelical Alliance was held in New York City. It was a period when many scientific objections had been raised regarding the value of prayer, and many anxious souls were fearful that the faith of the Church was being shaken to its foundations. President Woolsey of Yale University gave the opening address. After he had referred to the wave of skepticism that had swept over the world, particularly in regard to prayer, he looked out upon the assembly with a quiet, confident smile lighting his features, and then quoted the first stanza of Bishop Coxe's hymn:

O where are kings and empires now, Of old that went and came? But, Lord, Thy church is praying yet, A thousand years the same.

"For a moment," writes an eye-witness, "there was silence. In another moment the full significance of the reference had flashed on every mind, and the response was instantaneous and universal. Shouts, waving of handkerchiefs, clapping of hands, stamping of feet--I never knew anything like it. Round after round continued, until the storm of applause ended in a burst of grateful tears. No one doubted that the Church still believed in prayer and that the tempest had passed without the loss of a sail."

In the same volume of "Christian Ballads" there appears another little poem, most appealing in its simplicity:

In the silent midnight-watches, List--thy bosom door! How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, Knocketh, evermore! Say not 'tis thy pulse is beating: 'Tis thy heart of sin; 'Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, "Rise, and let Me in!"

For a time Coxe gave promise of becoming the "John Keble of America," but after his election as a bishop in the Episcopal Church, pressing duties interfered with his literary work, and in later years he wrote few poems.

Bishop Coxe was the son of a noted Presbyterian minister, Rev. Samuel H. Cox. He was born in Menham, N. J., in 1818. After his graduation from the University of the City of New York, he decided to leave the Presbyterian Church and to enter the Episcopalian fold. At the same time he added an "e" to the end of his name, much to his father's displeasure! He died in 1896 at the age of seventy-eight years.

The Hymn of a Consecrated Woman

More love to Thee, O Christ, More love to Thee; Hear Thou the prayer I make On bended knee; This is my earnest plea, More love, O Christ, to Thee, More love to Thee.

Once earthly joy I craved, Sought peace and rest; Now Thee alone I seek, Give what is best; This all my prayer shall be, More love, O Christ, to Thee, More love to Thee.

Then shall my latest breath Whisper Thy praise; This be the parting cry My heart shall raise; This still its prayer shall be, More love, O Christ, to Thee, More love to Thee.

Elizabeth Payson Prentiss, 1856.

A HYMN THAT GREW OUT OF SUFFERING

The fruits of a sanctified life are often seen long after the person who lived that life has ceased from earthly strivings. This was true in a very special sense of Elizabeth Payson Prentiss, author of "More love to Thee, O Christ." Although it is fifty years since Mrs. Prentiss went home to glory, her beautiful Christian life still radiates its spirit of trust and hope through her hymns and devotional writings.

As a child she was blessed with an unusual home. Her father, Edward Payson, was one of New England's most famous clergymen, revered and beloved by thousands because of his saintly life. It is said that after his death the name of "Edward Payson" was given in baptism to thousands of children whose parents had been blessed through his consecrated ministry.

The daughter, who was born in 1818, was much like her father. Spiritually minded from childhood, she possessed unusual gifts as a writer. When she was only sixteen years old she contributed verses and prose to "The Youth's Companion." Later she taught school at Portland, Me., her birthplace, and in Ipswich, Mass., and Richmond, Va., at each place being greatly beloved by her pupils.

In 1845 she became the bride of Rev. George L. Prentiss, who later was a professor in Union Theological Seminary, New York City.

Her home life was beautiful. Those who knew her best, described her as "a very bright-eyed little woman, with a keen sense of humor, who cared more to shine in her own happy household than in a wide circle of society."

But all the while she was carrying a heavy burden. Throughout life she was a sufferer, and scarcely knew what it meant to be well. Chronic insomnia added to her afflictions, but as her body languished under physical chastening her spirit rose above pain and tribulation, daily growing more radiant and beautiful. It was out of these trying experiences that she wrote her famous story, "Stepping Heavenward." The purpose of the book, as she herself explained, was "for strengthening and comforting other souls."

It met with instant success, more than 200,000 copies being sold. It also was translated into many foreign languages. Another story, "The Flower of the Family," likewise became very popular.

It was as poet and hymn-writer, however, that Mrs. Prentiss was destined to achieve fame. Her volume, "Religious Poems," numbering one hundred and twenty-three, breathes a spirit of fervent devotion to Christ. "To love Christ more," she said, "is the deepest need, the constant cry of my soul.... Out in the woods, and on my bed, and out driving, when I am happy and busy, and when I am sad and idle, the whisper keeps going up for more love, more love, more love!"

It is easy to understand how such a longing should finally find expression in her most famous hymn, "More love to Thee, O Christ." The hymn in reality was the prayer of her life. It was born in 1856 during a time of great physical suffering and spiritual anxiety. It was written in great haste, and the last stanza was left incompleted. Not until thirteen years later did Mrs. Prentiss show it to her husband. She then added a final line with a pencil and gave it to the printer, intending it only for private distribution. The following year, however, the "Great Revival" swept over America, and the hymn sprang into popularity everywhere.

When in August, 1878, the mortal remains of the sanctified singer were lowered into the grave, a company of intimate friends stood with bared heads and sang "More love to Thee, O Christ." The whole Christian world seemed to join in mourning her death. From far-off China came a message of sympathy to the bereaved husband in the form of a fan on which Christian Chinese had inscribed the famous hymn in native characters.

After her death the following verse was found written on the flyleaf of one of her favorite books:

One hour with Jesus! How its peace outweighs The ravishment of earthly love and praise; How dearer far, emptied of self to lie Low at His feet, and catch, perchance, His eye, Alike content when He may give or take, The sweet, the bitter, welcome for His sake.

A Hymn of the Sea

Jesus, Saviour, pilot me Over life's tempestuous sea; Unknown waves before me roll, Hiding rock and treacherous shoal; Chart and compass came from Thee: Jesus, Saviour, pilot me.

As a mother stills her child, Thou canst hush the ocean wild; Boisterous waves obey Thy will When Thou say'st to them, "Be still!" Wondrous Sovereign of the sea, Jesus, Saviour, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore, And the fearful breakers roar 'Twixt me and the peaceful rest, Then, while leaning on Thy breast, May I hear Thee say to me, "Fear not, I will pilot thee."

Edward Hopper, 1871.

A FAMOUS HYMN WRITTEN FOR SAILORS

It does not surprise us that the writer of "Jesus, Saviour, pilot me" was the pastor of a sailors' church. Rev. Edward Hopper, who for many years was minister of the Church of Sea and Land in New York harbor, had in mind the daily life of the seamen attending his church when he wrote his famous lyric. A hymn on the theme of the stormy sea, picturing Jesus as the divine Pilot--this, he felt, would appeal to sailors and be a source of constant comfort and encouragement.

Perhaps Hopper got his idea from Charles Wesley. It was a common practice of the great English hymn-writer to compose hymns that were particularly adapted to the audiences he addressed. When he visited the men who worked in the Portland quarries in England, he wrote the hymn containing the lines:

Strike with the hammer of Thy Word, And break these hearts of stone.

In any event, Hopper's beautiful hymn at once sprang into popular use, not only with sailors, but with Christians everywhere. It appeared for the first time anonymously in "The Sailors' Magazine," but several hymn-books adopted it. It was not until 1880, nine years after it was published, however, that the author's name became known. In that year the anniversary of the Seamen's Friend Society was held in Broadway Tabernacle, New York City, and Hopper was asked to write a hymn for the occasion. He responded by producing "Jesus, Saviour, pilot me," and the secret was out.

Hopper wrote several other hymns, but only this one has lived. Like Edward Perronet, the author of "All hail the power of Jesus' Name," he was "a bird of a single song." We could have wished that the fires of inspired genius had continued to burn with both of these men. Here, however, apply the words: "Happy is the man who can produce one song which the world will keep on singing after its author shall have passed away."

The author of "Jesus, Saviour, pilot me" was a child of the city. He was born in America's great metropolis, New York City, in the year 1818. His father was a merchant. His mother was a descendant of the Huguenots, the persecuted French Protestants. He was educated for the ministry, and, after serving several churches in other places, he returned to New York in 1870 to begin his work among the men who go down to the sea in ships. He remained as pastor of the Church of Sea and Land until his death in 1888, and we scarcely need to add that his ministry was singularly successful.

The beautiful prayer in the third stanza of Hopper's hymn was answered in his own passing. He was sitting in his study-chair, pencil in hand, when the final summons came. On the sheet before him were found some freshly written lines on "Heaven." Thus was fulfilled in his own death the beautiful prayer expressed in the final stanza of his hymn:

When at last I near the shore, And the fearful breakers roar 'Twixt me and the peaceful rest, Then, while leaning on Thy breast, May I hear Thee say to me, "Fear not, I will pilot thee."

A Rally Hymn of the Church

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, Ye soldiers of the cross; Lift high His royal banner, It must not suffer loss; From victory unto victory His army He shall lead, Till every foe is vanquished, And Christ is Lord indeed.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, The trumpet call obey; Forth to the mighty conflict In this His glorious day: Ye that are men, now serve Him Against unnumbered foes; Your courage rise with danger, And strength to strength oppose.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, Stand in His strength alone; The arm of flesh will fail you, Ye dare not trust your own; Put on the gospel armor, And watching unto prayer, Where duty calls or danger, Be never wanting there.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, The strife will not be long; This day the noise of battle, The next the victor's song: To him that overcometh, A crown of life shall be; He with the King of glory Shall reign eternally.

George Duffield, 1858

A TRAGEDY THAT INSPIRED A GREAT HYMN

The Christian Church has many stirring rally hymns, but none that is more effective when sung by a large assembly than George Duffield's "Stand up, stand up for Jesus." Who has not been moved to the depths of his soul by the inspiring words and resounding music of this unusual hymn?

A tragedy lies in its background. It was in the year 1858, and a great spiritual awakening was gripping the city of Philadelphia. Men referred to this revival afterwards as "the work of God in Philadelphia."

One of the most earnest and zealous leaders in the movement was a young pastor, Dudley A. Tyng, not quite thirty years old. Because of his evangelical convictions and his strong opposition to slavery he had shortly before been compelled to resign as rector of the Church of the Epiphany, and in 1857 he had organized a little congregation that met in a public hall.

In the midst of the revival in 1858 he preached a powerful sermon at a noon-day meeting in Jayne's Hall to a gathering of 5,000 men. His text was Exodus 10:11: "Go now, ye that are men, and serve the Lord." It is said that the effect was overwhelming, no less than a thousand men giving themselves to the Lord.

A few weeks later the young pastor was watching a corn-shelling machine when his arm was caught in the machinery and terribly mangled. Though every effort was made to save his life, he died within a few hours. Shortly before the end came he cried to the friends who were gathered about him, "Sing, sing, can you not sing?" He himself then began the words of "Rock of Ages," with the others trying to join him in the midst of their grief. When his father, the distinguished clergyman, Stephen H. Tyng, bent over him to ask if he had a last message for his friends, the dying soldier of the cross whispered:

"Tell them to stand up for Jesus!"

Rev. George Duffield, also of Philadelphia and a close friend of the greatly lamented Tyng, felt that the words were too impressive to be lost. On the following Sunday he preached a sermon in his own church on Ephesians 6:14, "Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness." As he concluded his sermon, he read the words of a poem he had written, "Stand up, stand up for Jesus."

Not only did Duffield preserve the dying words of his devoted friend, but it will be noted that the second stanza also contains the challenge of Tyng's last revival sermon: "Go now, ye that are men, and serve the Lord."

The superintendent of Duffield's Sunday school printed the words of the poem for distribution among his scholars. One of these leaflets found its way to a religious periodical, where it was published. Soon it began to appear in hymn-books, being generally set to a tune composed by George J. Webb a few years earlier. It is said that the first time the author heard it sung outside of his own church was in 1864, when the Christian men in the Army of the James sang it in their camp, just before they were about to enter into a bloody battle.

As originally written, the hymn contained six stanzas. The second and fifth are omitted from most hymn-books. These stanzas read:

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, The solemn watchword hear; If while ye sleep He suffers, Away with shame and fear; Where'er ye meet with evil, Within you or without, Charge for the God of Battles, And put the foe to rout.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, Each soldier to his post: Close up the broken column, And shout through all the host: Make good the loss so heavy, In those that still remain, And prove to all around you That death itself is gain.

The omission of these lines is really no loss, since they sink far beneath the literary level of the remaining verses. They also carry the military imagery to needless length.

A Hymn of Spiritual Yearning

We would see Jesus, for the shadows lengthen Across this little landscape of our life; We would see Jesus, our weak faith to strengthen For the last weariness, the final strife.

We would see Jesus, the great Rock-foundation Whereon our feet were set by sovereign grace: Nor life nor death, with all their agitation, Can thence remove us, if we see His face.

We would see Jesus: other lights are paling, Which for long years we have rejoiced to see; The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing: We would not mourn them, for we go to Thee.

We would see Jesus: this is all we're needing; Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight; We would see Jesus, dying, risen, pleading; Then welcome day, and farewell, mortal night.

Anna Bartlett Warner, 1851.

ANNA WARNER AND HER BEAUTIFUL HYMNS

In the last week of our Saviour's life, a very beautiful and touching incident occurred in the city of Jerusalem. The Evangelist John tells the story in the following words:

"Now there were certain Greeks among those that went up to worship at the feast: these therefore came to Philip, who was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and asked him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip cometh and telleth Andrew: Andrew cometh, and Philip, and they tell Jesus. And Jesus answereth them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified."

It was the petition of these Gentile pilgrims from the land of the Spartans and Athenians that inspired an American young woman to write one of our beautiful hymns, "We would see Jesus."

Her name was Anna Bartlett Warner, and for almost a century she lived at a beautiful retreat in the Hudson river known as Constitution island, under the very shadows of the great military academy at West Point. She had a sister named Susan who achieved even greater literary fame than she, but it is Anna's name, after all, that will live on and be cherished for her songs. We wonder if any child in America during the last half century has not learned to know and to love the little hymn--

Jesus loves me, this I know, For the Bible tells me so.

Children throughout the world are singing it now, and missionaries tell us that the simplicity of its message also makes a wonderful appeal to the newly-converted heathen. This hymn is one of the reasons why the name of Anna Warner will never be forgotten.

An exquisite lullaby, also written by Miss Warner, begins with the words, "O little child, lie still and sleep."

Two volumes of sacred song were composed by this gifted young woman. The first bore the title, "Hymns of the Church Militant," and was published in 1858. The second, called "Wayfaring Hymns, Original and Translated," appeared in 1869. "We would see Jesus" was included in the first of these collections. It appears, however, that it was written at least seven years before its publication. An interesting item from her sister Susan's diary, under date of February 8, 1851, tells of the impression the hymn made on her when she first read it. She writes:

"The next day, Sunday, in the afternoon, Anna had been copying off some hymns for Emmelin's book, and left them with me to look over. I had not read two verses of 'We would see Jesus,' when I thought of Anna, and merely casting my eye down, the others so delighted and touched me that I left it for tears and petitions. I wished Anna might prove the author--and after I found she was, I sat by her a little while with my head against her, crying such delicious tears."

Another hymn that has found a place in many hearts bears the title, "The Song of the Tired Servant." It was inspired by a letter received by Miss Warner from a friend who was a pastor, in which he spoke of the weariness he felt after the tasks of an arduous day, but of the joy that his soul experienced in serving the Master. The first stanza reads:

One more day's work for Jesus, One less of life for me! But heaven is nearer, And Christ is dearer Than yesterday, to me; His love and light Fill all my soul tonight.

Although the two Warner sisters lived in a corner apart from the busy world, they made their influence felt in widespread circles. They felt a particular responsibility in reference to the many thousands of young men from all parts of the United States who were being trained at West Point for service in the army, and for many years they conducted a Bible class for the cadets.

Military honors were accorded each of the sisters when they were buried. Anna Warner was ninety-five years old when she died in 1915.

A Famous Christmas Carol

O little town of Bethlehem How still we see thee lie; Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by; Yet in thy darkness shineth The everlasting Light; The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, And gathered all above, While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wondering love. O morning stars, together Proclaim the holy birth, And praises sing to God the King, And peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently, The wondrous Gift is given! So God imparts to human hearts The blessings of His heaven. No ear may hear His coming, But in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive Him still, The dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem! Descend to us, we pray; Cast out our sin, and enter in, Be born in us today. We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell: O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Immanuel!

Phillips Brooks, 1868.

PHILLIPS BROOKS AND HIS CAROLS

Phillips Brooks was a great man. Not only was he a giant in stature, but he possessed a great mind and a great heart. Also, he was a great preacher--one of America's greatest--and he just missed being a great poet. Indeed, the flashes of poetic genius revealed in the few verses he wrote indicate that he might have become famous as a hymn-writer had he chosen such a career.

His poetic gift had its roots in childhood. Phillips was brought up in a pious New England home. Every Sunday the children of the Brooks household were required to memorize a hymn, and, when the father conducted the evening devotion on the Lord's day, the children recited their hymns. When Phillips was ready to go to college, he could repeat no less than two hundred hymns from memory. In his later ministry this knowledge proved to be of inestimable value, and he frequently made effective use of hymn quotations in his preaching. But, more than that, the childhood training unconsciously had made of him a poet!

"O little town of Bethlehem," his most famous Christmas carol, was written for a Sunday school Christmas festival in 1868, when Brooks was rector of Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. He was only thirty-two years old at the time. Three years earlier he had visited the Holy Land, and on Christmas eve he had stood on the star-lit hills where the shepherds had watched their flocks. Below the hills he had seen the "little town of Bethlehem," slumbering in the darkness just as it had done in the night when Jesus was born. Later he had attended midnight services in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.

He could never entirely forget the impressions of that sublime night, and, when he was asked in 1868 to write a Christmas hymn for his Sunday school, he put down on paper the song that long had been ringing in his mind.

The beautiful tune "St. Louis," to which the hymn is usually sung, also has an interesting story. It was composed by Lewis H. Redner, who was organist and Sunday school superintendent of Dr. Brooks' church. When Brooks asked Redner to write a suitable tune for the words, the latter waited for the inspiration that never seemed to come. Christmas eve arrived and Redner went to sleep without having written the tune. In the middle of the night, however, he dreamed that he heard angels singing. He awoke with the melody still sounding in his ears. Quickly he seized a piece of paper, and jotted it down, and next morning he filled in the harmony.

Redner always insisted that the hymn tune was "a gift from heaven," and those who have learned to love its exquisite strains are more than willing to believe it!

Phillips Brooks, though he never had a family of his own, possessed a boundless love for children. That, perhaps, is one reason why the Christmas season so fascinated him, and why he wrote so many Christmas carols for children. One of these is famous for its striking refrain, "Everywhere, everywhere, Christmas tonight." "The voice of the Christ-child" is the title of another Christmas carol. He also wrote a number of Easter carols, among them, "God hath sent His angels."

But Phillips Brooks not only made a strong appeal to children; it was not long before the great and learned men of America began to realize that a great preacher and prophet had risen among them. There was need of such a spiritual leader, for Unitarianism had threatened to engulf all New England.

In its beginnings this movement was merely a protest against the stern and forbidding aspects of the Christian religion as it had been exemplified in New England Puritanism. It grew more and more radical, however, until the deity of Christ was denied.

The old-fashioned religion of "Christ and Him crucified" was all but forgotten in the intellectual circles of New England when a young man thirty-four years of age began preaching in Trinity church, Boston. He was preaching Jesus Christ, but he was presenting Him in a new and wonderful light. Crowds began to fill the church. Even sedate old Harvard was stirred.

That was the beginning of the ministry of Phillips Brooks in Boston, a ministry that made him famous throughout the land. It marked the turning point in religious tendencies in New England, and perhaps was the most potent factor in checking the spread of the Unitarian doctrine. Brooks was later elevated to a bishopric in his Church. He died in 1893.

It is said that when a little girl of five years was told by her mother that "Bishop Brooks has gone to heaven," the child exclaimed, "Oh, mamma, how happy the angels will be!"

The Story that Never Grows Old

I love to hear the story Which angel voices tell, How once the King of glory Came down to earth to dwell. I am both weak and sinful, But this I surely know, The Lord came down to save me, Because He loved me so.

I'm glad my blessed Saviour Was once a child like me, To show how pure and holy His little ones should be; And if I try to follow His footsteps here below, He never will forget me, Because He loves me so.

To sing His love and mercy My sweetest songs I'll raise! And though I cannot see Him, I know He hears my praise; For He has kindly promised That even I may go To sing among His angels, Because He loves me so.

Emily Huntington Miller, 1867.

WOMEN WHO WROTE HYMNS FOR CHILDREN

Everybody loves the hymns the children sing. And that, perhaps, is the reason why Emily Huntington Miller's name will not soon be forgotten, for the hymns she wrote were children's hymns indeed--hymns that came from the heart of one who understood the heart of a child.

The daughter of a Methodist clergyman, Emily Huntington was born in Brooklyn, Conn., October 22, 1833. The spiritual and cultural influence of a New England parsonage was not lost on this little child, who early in life began to reveal unusual literary gifts. It was very unusual in those days for young women to attend college, but Emily enrolled at Oberlin College and graduated in the class of 1857.

Ten years later she became one of the editors of "_The Little Corporal_," a very popular magazine for children. Each month she contributed a poem to this publication. Like all other contributors, she often found it difficult to have her poem ready each month on the required day. One month in 1867 she was handicapped by illness. The final day came, and her poem was not written. In spite of her weakness, she aroused herself to the task. The inspiration seemed to come immediately, and, so she tells us, "in less than fifteen minutes the hymn was written and sent away without any correction."

The hymn referred to was "I love to hear the story." Almost immediately it sprang into popularity. In England it was admitted in 1875 to "Hymns Ancient and Modern," the hymn-book of the Church of England. This was a very unusual honor, since very few hymns of American origin have been included in that famous collection. It is said that no one was more surprised at the popularity achieved by the hymn than the author herself.

Another of her hymns that has won a place in the hearts of the smaller children is the sweet little gem:

Jesus bids us shine With a clear, pure light Like a little candle Burning in the night; In the world is darkness, So we must shine, You in your small corner, And I in mine.

Another of her hymns for children, though not so well known as the other two mentioned, possesses unusual merit:

Father, while the shadows fall, With the twilight over all, Deign to hear my evening prayer, Make a little child Thy care. Take me in Thy holy keeping Till the morning break; Guard me thro' the darkness sleeping, Bless me when I wake.

Emily Huntington became the wife of Prof. John E. Miller in 1860. After his death she became dean of the Woman's College of Northwestern University, in which position she exerted a blessed influence over large numbers of young women. She died in 1913.

Another American woman who at this time was also writing hymns for children was Mrs. Lydia Baxter. Although born at Petersburg, N. Y., September 2, 1809, it was not until nearly fifty years later that she seems to have begun to exercise her gifts as a song writer. Her "Gems by the Wayside" were published in 1855, after which she became a frequent contributor to hymn collections for Sunday schools and evangelistic services.

Mrs. Baxter may be regarded as one of the forerunners of the Gospel hymn movement of America. Her lyrics fall short of the severer standards required in a true hymn, and for this reason few of her hymns have been admitted to the authorized collections of the principal church communions. However, the woman who wrote "Take the Name of Jesus with you" and "There is a gate that stands ajar" will not soon be forgotten by pious Christians, even though the author receives scant notice at the hands of hymnologists. It is a significant fact that in 1921 the Church of Sweden included a translation of the latter hymn in the appendix to its "Psalm-book," one of the most conservative hymn collections in Christendom. Mrs. Baxter died in New York, June 22, 1874.

A Hymn of Sweet Consolation

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on His gentle breast, There by His love o'ershaded, Sweetly my soul shall rest. Hark! 'tis the voice of angels, Borne in a song to me, Over the fields of glory, Over the jasper sea.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe from corroding care, Safe from the world's temptations, Sin cannot harm me there. Free from the blight of sorrow, Free from my doubts and fears; Only a few more trials, Only a few more tears!

Jesus, my heart's dear refuge, Jesus has died for me; Firm on the Rock of Ages Ever my trust shall be. Here let me wait with patience, Wait till the night is o'er; Wait till I see the morning Break on the golden shore.

Frances Jane Crosby, 1869.

FANNY CROSBY, AMERICA'S BLIND POET

Blindness is not always an affliction. If it serves to give the soul a clearer vision of Christ and of His redeeming love, as it did with Fanny Crosby, it may rather be regarded as a blessing.

America's most famous hymn-writer could never remember having seen the light of day, nevertheless her life was one of the most happy and fruitful ever lived. Always she radiated a sweet and cheerful spirit, refusing to be pitied, while her soul poured out the songs that brought joy and salvation to countless multitudes.

Born of humble parents at Southeast, N. Y., March 24, 1823, she was only six weeks old when, through the application of a poultice to her eyes, her sight was forever destroyed. Such a disaster would have cast a perpetual gloom over most lives, but not so with Fanny Crosby. Even at the age of eight years she gave evidence not only of her happy optimism but also of her poetic genius by penning the following cheerful lines:

O what a happy soul am I! Although I cannot see, I am resolved that in this world Contented I will be.

How many blessings I enjoy, That other people don't; To weep and sigh because I'm blind, I cannot, and I won't!

When she was fifteen years old she entered the Institution for the Blind in New York City, where she soon began to develop her remarkable talent for writing verse. At first she wrote only secular songs. One of these, "Rosalie, the Prairie Flower," brought the blind girl nearly $3,000 in royalties.

Strange to state, it was not until she was forty-one years old that her first hymn was written. It was in 1864 that she met the famous composer, W. B. Bradbury, and it was at his request that she made her first attempt at hymn-writing. Her first hymn began:

We are going, we are going, To a home beyond the skies, Where the fields are robed in beauty, And the sunlight never dies.

She now felt that she had found her real mission in life, and she wrote that she was "the happiest creature in all the land." Until her death in 1915, hymns flowed from her inspired pen in a ceaseless stream. For a long time she was under contract to furnish her publishers, Biglow & Main, with three hymns every week. It has been estimated that no less than 8,000 hymns and songs were written by this unusual woman.

Not all of her hymns possess high poetical excellence. In fact, they have been subjected to the most severe criticism. John Julian, the English hymnologist, with his usual candor, declares that "they are, with few exceptions, very weak and poor, their simplicity and earnestness being their redeeming features."

However, whether we consider her hymns of high poetic standard or not, the fact remains that no one has written more hymns that are being sung and loved today than Fanny Crosby. Certainly the hymnody of the Christian Church is infinitely richer for "Pass me not, O gentle Saviour," "Sweet hour of prayer," "Safe in the arms of Jesus," "All the way my Saviour leads me," "Jesus is tenderly calling thee home," "I am thine, O Lord," "Rescue the perishing," "Speed away," "Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine," "Jesus keep me near the Cross," "Some day the silver cord will break," and scores of other inspiring gems that have come to us from this blind genius.

Practically all her hymns are very subjective in character. Although this is doubtless an element of weakness, it probably explains their unusual personal appeal. It was the prayer of Miss Crosby that she might win a million souls for Christ, and there are many who believe that her prayer has been more than realized. A strong Scriptural note is heard in most of her hymns. When she was yet a child, she committed to memory the first four books of the Old Testament, as well as the four Gospels, and this proved a rich treasure store from which she drew in later life.

Fanny Crosby's fault apparently lay in the fact that she was too prolific a writer. Most of her songs were composed in a few minutes. Often the lines came as rapidly as they could be dictated. It was this circumstance that led Dr. S. W. Duffield to observe rather facetiously that "It is more to her credit as a writer that she has occasionally found a pearl than that she has brought to the surface so many oyster shells." However, before his death he evidently had altered his opinion, for he wrote: "I rather think her talent will stand beside that of Watts or Wesley, especially if we take into consideration the number of hymns she has written."

Certainly there are many pearls among the 8,000 songs she wrote, and perhaps none has given more solace to broken hearts than "Safe in the arms of Jesus." Often the themes of her hymns were suggested to her by publishers or musical composers. At other times a musician would play a tune for her and ask her to write words for it. It was in 1868 that William H. Doane, the popular hymn composer, came to her one day and said: "Fanny, I have a tune I would like to have you hear." He played it for her, and she exclaimed, "That says 'Safe in the arms of Jesus!'" She went to her room immediately, and within half an hour the words had been written.

Although Fanny Crosby never permitted the fact of her blindness to make her life gloomy, there are many touching allusions in her hymns to her affliction. "All the way my Saviour leads me" suggests how much a guiding hand means to the blind. The same thought appears in the song, "God will take care of you," especially in the lines,

Tenderly watching, and keeping His own, He will not leave you to wander alone.

There also are pathetic passages in her hymns that reflect the hope that some day the long night of blindness would be ended--in heaven.

Here let me wait with patience, Wait till the night is o'er; Wait till I see the morning Break on the golden shore.

That is also the constant refrain heard in the exquisite hymn, "Some day the silver cord will break."

And I shall see Him face to face, And tell the story--Saved by grace.

Nevertheless, she never permitted any one to express sympathy on account of her blindness. Once a Scotch minister remarked to her, "I think it is a great pity that the Master, when He showered so many gifts upon you, did not give you sight."

She answered: "Do you know that, if at birth I had been able to make one petition to my Creator, if would have been that I should be made blind?"

"Why?" asked the surprised clergyman.

"Because, when I get to heaven, the first face that shall ever gladden my sight will be that of my Saviour," was the unexpected reply.

At a summer religious conference in Northfield, Mass., Miss Crosby was sitting on the platform when the evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, asked her for a testimony concerning her Christian experience. At first she hesitated, then quietly rose and said: "There is one hymn I have written which has never been published. I call it my Soul's poem, and sometimes when I am troubled I repeat it to myself, for it brings comfort to my heart." She then recited:

Some day the silver chord will break, And I no more as now shall sing: But, the joy when I shall wake Within the palace of the King! And I shall see Him face to face, And tell the story--Saved by grace.

The sight of her uplifted face, with its wistful expression, made a deep impression upon the vast audience, and many were moved to tears.

In 1858 Miss Crosby married Alexander Van Alstyne, a blind musician, wherefore she is often referred to as Mrs. Frances Jane Van Alstyne. She died on February 12, 1915.

The Call of the Gospel Song

Sing them over again to me, Wonderful words of life, Let me more of their beauty see, Wonderful words of life. Words of life and beauty, Teach me faith and duty; Beautiful words, Wonderful words, Wonderful words of life.

Christ, the blessed One, gives to all Wonderful words of life; Sinner, list to the loving call, Wonderful words of life. All so freely given, Wooing us to heaven, Beautiful words, Wonderful words, Wonderful words of life.

Sweetly echo the gospel call, Wonderful words of life; Offer pardon and peace to all, Wonderful words of life. Jesus, only Saviour, Sanctify forever, Beautiful words, Wonderful words, Wonderful words of life.

Philip P. Bliss (1838-1876).

ONE OF AMERICA'S EARLIEST GOSPEL SINGERS

Among hymn-books that have exerted a profound influence over the spiritual lives of Christian people none has probably achieved greater fame or wider circulation than the volume known as Gospel Hymns. It was issued in a series of six editions, but now is usually found combined in a single book.

Philip P. Bliss, the subject of this chapter, was the first editor of Gospel Hymns. Associated with him in the publication of the first two editions was the renowned Ira D. Sankey, who gained world-wide fame through his evangelistic campaigns with Dwight L. Moody.

The story of the life of Bliss reads like romance.

Like many a poor lad endowed with love for the artistic, he was compelled to struggle almost all his life for the opportunity that finally came to him. Born at Rome, Pa., in 1838, he early revealed a passion for music when, as a boy, he made crude instruments on which he tried to produce tones.

The story is told of how Philip, when a ragged and barefoot boy of ten years, heard piano music for the first time. So entranced did he become that he entered the home unbidden, and stood listening at the parlor door. When the young woman at the instrument ceased playing, the child who hungered for music cried:

"O lady, play some more!"

Instead of complying with the request, the startled young woman is said to have invited young Bliss to leave the house forthwith!

Although he received practically no musical education, except from occasional attendance at a singing school, he wrote his first song at the age of twenty-six years. It was called "Lora Vale," and because of its popular reception, Bliss was encouraged to devote all his time to writing songs and giving concerts.

Bliss usually wrote both the words and music of his hymns. His work was done very quickly, the inspiration for the whole song, text and melody, being born in his mind at once.

Any incident of an unusually impressive nature would immediately suggest a theme to his mind. He heard the story of a shipwreck. The doomed vessel was abandoned, and the captain ordered the sailors to exert their utmost strength to "pull for the shore." Immediately he wrote his well-known song with the words as a refrain.

One night he listened to a sermon in which the preacher closed with the words, "He who is almost persuaded is almost saved, but to be almost saved is to be entirely lost." He went home from the service and wrote "Almost persuaded," a hymn that is said to have brought more souls to Christ than anything else Bliss ever composed.

In 1870 he heard Major Whittle, an evangelist, tell the story of how the message, "Hold the fort!" was signalled to the besieged garrison at Allatoona Pass. The words suggested the passage from Revelations 2:25, "That which ye have, hold fast till I come." The result was one of his most famous Gospel songs, the chorus of which runs:

"Hold the fort, for I am coming," Jesus signals still, Wave the answer back to heaven,-- "By Thy grace we will."

Other popular songs by Bliss are "Whosoever heareth, shout, shout the sound," "I am so glad that our Father in heaven," "There's a light in the valley," "Sing them over again to me," "Let the lower lights be burning," "Free from the law, Oh, happy condition," "Down life's dark vale we wander" and "Where hast thou gleaned today?"

These songs, like the greater number of the Gospel Hymns, do not possess high literary merit. The most that can be said for them is that they are imaginative and picturesque. They are usually strong in emotional appeal. The same is true of the tunes composed for them. They are usually very light in character, with a lilt and movement that make them easily singable, but lacking in the rich harmony found in the standard hymns and chorales. No doubt there will always be a certain demand for this type of religious song, and a few of the Gospel Hymns will probably live on, but the present trend in all of the principal Christian denominations is toward a higher standard of hymnody.

A terrible tragedy brought the life of the Gospel singer to a close in his thirty-eighth year. He had visited the old childhood home at Rome, Pa., at Christmas time in 1876, and was returning to Chicago in company with his wife when a railroad bridge near Ashtabula, Ohio, collapsed on the evening of December 29. Their train plunged into a ravine, sixty feet below, where it caught fire, and one hundred passengers perished miserably.

Bliss managed to escape from the wreckage, but crawled back into a window in search for his wife. That was the last seen of him.

The song-writer's first name was originally "Philipp." He disliked the unusual spelling, however, and in later years he used the extra "P" as a middle initial.

Chautauqua Vesper Hymn

Day is dying in the west; Heaven is touching earth with rest: Wait and worship while the night Sets her evening lamps alight Through all the sky.

Refrain: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts! Heaven and earth are full of Thee! Heaven and earth are praising Thee, O Lord Most High!

Lord of life, beneath the dome Of the universe, Thy home, Gather us who seek Thy face To the fold of Thy embrace, For Thou art nigh.

While the deepening shadows fall, Heart of Love, enfold us all; Through the glory and the grace Of the stars that veil Thy face, Our hearts ascend.

When forever from our sight Pass the stars, the day, the night, Lord of angels, on our eyes Let eternal morning rise, And shadows end.

Mary Artimisia Lathbury, 1880, 1890.

THE LYRIST OF CHAUTAUQUA

Those who have had the privilege of attending a vesper service in the great Chautauqua Institution auditorium on the shores of beautiful Lake Chautauqua, N. Y., have come away with at least one impression that is lasting. It is the singing by the vast assembly of Mary Lathbury's famous vesper hymn, "Day is dying in the west."

This beautiful evening lyric, which was written especially for the Chautauqua vesper hour, has been called by a distinguished critic "one of the finest and most distinctive hymns of modern times," and there are few who will not concur in his judgment.

The "lyrist of Chautauqua" was born in Manchester, N. Y., August 10, 1841. As a child she began to reveal artistic tendencies. She developed a special talent in drawing pictures of children, and her illustrations in magazines and periodicals made her name widely known. She also wrote books and poetry, illustrating them with her own sketches.

Very early in life she felt constrained to dedicate her talent to Christian service. She tells how she seemed to hear a voice saying to her: "Remember, my child, that you have a gift of weaving fancies into verse, and a gift with the pencil of producing visions that come to your heart; consecrate these to Me as thoroughly and as definitely as you do your inmost spirit."

An opportunity to serve her Lord in a very definite way came in 1874, when Dr. John H. Vincent, then secretary of the Methodist Sunday School Union, employed her as his assistant. The Chautauqua movement had just been launched the previous year and the formal opening on the shores of the beautiful lake from which the institution has received its name took place on August 4, 1874. Dr. Vincent became the outstanding leader of the movement, and he began to make use of Miss Lathbury's literary talent almost immediately.

Dr. Jesse Lyman Hurlbut, historian of Chautauqua, writes: "In Dr. Vincent's many-sided nature was a strain of poetry, although I do not know that he ever wrote a verse. Yet he always looked at life and truth through poetic eyes. Who otherwise would have thought of songs for Chautauqua and called upon a poet to write them? Dr. Vincent found in Mary A. Lathbury a poet who could compose fitting verses for the expression of the Chautauqua spirit."

The beautiful evening hymn, "Day is dying in the west," was written in 1880, at Dr. Vincent's request, for the vesper services which are held every evening. It originally consisted of only two stanzas, and it was not until ten years later that Miss Lathbury, at the strong insistence of friends, added the last two stanzas. We are happy that she did so, for the last two lines, with their allusion to the "eternal morning" when "shadows" shall end, bring the hymn to a sublime conclusion.

It was also in 1880 that she wrote another hymn of two stanzas that has shared in the fame that has come to her evening hymn. It was composed for the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle, and Miss Lathbury called it "A Study Song." Its beautiful reference to the Sea of Galilee is made the more interesting when we are reminded that the hymn was written on the shores of lovely Lake Chautauqua. The hymn is particularly adapted for Bible study, and it is said that the great London preacher, G. Campbell Morgan, always announced it before his mid-week discourse. The hymn reads:

Break Thou the Bread of life, Dear Lord, to me, As Thou didst break the loaves Beside the sea; Beyond the sacred page I seek Thee, Lord; My spirit pants for Thee, O living Word!

Bless Thou the truth, dear Lord, To me, to me, As Thou didst bless the bread By Galilee; Then shall all bondage cease, All fetters fall; And I shall find my peace, My All-in-all!

Miss Lathbury was greatly esteemed, not only for her lovely lyrics which have given inspiration to thousands of souls, but also for her gentle, Christian character. There was an indescribable charm about her personality, and she exerted an abiding influence over those who came in contact with her devout and consecrated spirit. She died in New York City in 1913.

In His Footsteps

O Master, let me walk with Thee In lowly paths of service free; Tell me Thy secret, help me bear The strain of toil, the fret of care.

Help me the slow of heart to move By some clear winning word of love; Teach me the wayward feet to stay, And guide them in the homeward way.

Teach me Thy patience; still with Thee In closer, dearer company, In work that keeps faith sweet and strong, In trust that triumphs over wrong.

In hope that sends a shining ray Far down the future's broadening way, In peace that only Thou canst give, With Thee, O Master, let me live!

Washington Gladden, 1879.

GLADDEN'S HYMN OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE

For more than half a century, until his death in 1918, the name of Washington Gladden was known throughout the length of the country as one of America's most distinguished clergymen. A prolific writer, his books and his magazine contributions were widely read by the American people.

Like most literary productions, however, his books and pamphlets have already been largely forgotten. It is only a little hymn, written on a moment's inspiration, that seems destined to preserve Gladden's name for posterity. That hymn is "O Master, let me walk with Thee."

The author was born in Pottsgrove, Pa., February 11, 1836. After his graduation from Williams College in 1859, he was called as pastor to a Congregational church in Brooklyn. In 1882 he removed to Columbus, O., where he remained as pastor until 1914, a period of thirty-two years.

During these years he exerted a profound influence, not only over the city of Columbus, but in much wider circles. Gladden was deeply interested in social service, believing that it is the duty of the Christian Church to elevate the masses not only spiritually and morally, but in a social and economic sense as well. By sermons, lectures and by his writings, he was ever trying to bring about more cordial relationship between employer and employee.

Gladden was often the center of a storm of criticism on the part of those who charged him with liberalism. His beautiful hymn, written in 1879, seems to be in part an answer to his critics. It originally consisted of three stanzas of eight lines each. The second stanza, which was omitted when the poem was first published as a hymn, indicates how keenly Gladden felt the condemnation of his opponents:

O Master, let me walk with Thee Before the taunting Pharisee; Help me to bear the sting of spite, The hate of men who hide Thy light, The sore distrust of souls sincere Who cannot read Thy judgments clear, The dulness of the multitude, Who dimly guess that Thou art good.

Dr. Gladden always insisted that he was nothing but a preacher, and he gloried in his high calling. In spite of busy pastorates, however, he always found time to give expression to his literary talent. At one time he was a member of the editorial staff of the New York Independent. Later he was an editor of the "Sunday Afternoon," a weekly magazine. It was in this magazine that "O Master, let me walk with Thee" was first published.

The writer had no idea of composing a hymn when it was written, and no one was more surprised than he at its popularity. He himself agreed that the second stanza quoted above was not suitable for hymn purposes.

Whatever judgment may be passed on Dr. Gladden's liberalistic views, it will be agreed that he looked upon Christianity as an intensely practical thing; and, if he underestimated the value of Christian dogma, it was because he emphasized so strongly the necessity of Christian life and practice.

He was always buoyed up by a hopeful spirit, and he believed implicitly that the Kingdom of Light was gradually overcoming the forces of evil. In one of his last sermons, he said:

"I have never doubted that the Kingdom I have always prayed for is coming; that the gospel I have preached is true. I believe ... that the nation is being saved."

Something of his optimism may be seen reflected in the words of his hymn.

A Hymn of the City

Where cross the crowded ways of life, Where sound the cries of race and clan, Above the noise of selfish strife, We hear Thy voice, O Son of man!

In haunts of wretchedness and need, On shadowed thresholds dark with fears, From paths where hide the lures of greed, We catch the vision of Thy tears.

From tender childhood's helplessness, From woman's grief, man's burdened toil, From famished souls, from sorrow's stress, Thy heart has never known recoil.

The cup of water given for Thee Still holds the freshness of Thy grace; Yet long these multitudes to see The sweet compassion of Thy face.

O Master, from the mountain-side, Make haste to heal these hearts of pain, Among these restless throngs abide, O tread the city's streets again,

Till sons of men shall learn Thy love And follow where Thy feet have trod; Till glorious from Thy heaven above Shall come the city of our God.

Frank Mason North, 1905.

A HYMN WITH A MODERN MESSAGE

Among the more recent hymns that have found their way into the hymn-books of the Christian churches in America, there is none that enjoys such popularity and esteem as Frank Mason North's hymn, "Where cross the crowded ways of life." It is a hymn of the highest order, beautiful in thought and unusually tender in expression. It is typical of the trend in modern hymns to emphasize the Church's mission among the lowly and the fallen.

From beginning to end this hymn is a picture of the modern city with its sins and sorrows and spiritual hunger. We see the city as the meeting place of all races and tongues; we hear the din and noise of selfish striving; we behold the haunts of poverty and sin and wretchedness; we catch a glimpse of the sufferings of helpless childhood, of woman's secret griefs and man's ceaseless toil. And all these multitudes are hungering for Christ!

North has, consciously or unconsciously, made a striking distinction between mere social service work, which aims at the alleviation of human need and suffering, and inner mission work, which seeks to help men spiritually as well as physically. "The cup of water" is never to be despised, but when it is given in Christ's Name it has double value; for it is Christ Himself, after all, that men need, and it is only Christ who can truly satisfy. Social service can never take the place of salvation.

What a beautiful prayer is that contained in the fifth stanza, where the Master is entreated to "tread the city's streets again!" And then, as a fitting climax to this whole remarkable poem, comes the triumphant thought expressed in the final lines of the coming of the New Jerusalem from above--"the city of our God."

North was well qualified to write such a hymn. He himself was a child of the city, having been born in America's greatest metropolis in 1850. His early education, too, was received in New York City and after his graduation from Wesleyan University in 1872 he served several congregations in the city of his birth. In 1892 he was made Corresponding Secretary of the New York City Church Extension and Missionary Society and in 1912 he was elected a Corresponding Secretary of the Methodist Episcopal Board of Foreign Missions. Thus, almost his whole life has been devoted to missionary activities at home and abroad.

It was in 1905, in response to a request from the Methodist hymnal committee, that North wrote his celebrated hymn. He tells the story in the following words:

"My life was for long years, both by personal choice, and official duty, given to the people in all phases of their community life. New York was to me an open book. I spent days and weeks and years in close contact with every phase of the life of the multitudes, and at the morning, noon and evening hours was familiar with the tragedy, as it always seemed to me, of the jostling, moving currents of the life of the people as revealed upon the streets and at great crossings of the avenues; and I have watched them by the hour as they passed, by tens of thousands. This is no more than many another man whose sympathies are with the crowd and with the eager, unsatisfied folk of the world, has done.

"As I recall it, I came to write the hymn itself at the suggestion of Professor C. T. Winchester, who, as a member of the committee on the new hymnal, was struggling with the fact that we have so few modern missionary hymns. He said to me one day, 'Why do you not write us a missionary hymn?' I wrote what was in my thought and feeling.... That it has found its way into so many of the modern hymnals and by translation into so many of the other languages, is significant not as to the quality of the hymn itself but as to the fact that it is an expression of the tremendous movement of the soul of the gospel in our times which demands that the follower of Christ must make the interest of the people his own, and must find the heart of the world's need if he is in any way to represent his Master among men."

Another lovely hymn by North was written in 1884. The first stanza reads:

Jesus, the calm that fills my breast No other heart than Thine can give; This peace unstirred, this joy of rest, None but Thy loved ones can receive.

The spirit of this hymn reminds us very much of the two classic hymns of Bernard of Clairvaux--"O Jesus, joy of loving hearts" and "Jesus, the very thought of Thee." The last line quoted above is evidently inspired by a line from the latter hymn.

A Gripping Hymn by a Girl

O'er Jerusalem Thou weepest In compassion, dearest Lord! Love divine, of love the deepest, O'er Thine erring Israel poured, Crieth out in bitter moan, "O loved city, hadst thou known This thy day of visitation, Thou wouldst not reject salvation."

By the love Thy tears are telling, O Thou Lamb for sinners slain, Make my heart Thy temple dwelling, Purged from every guilty stain! O forgive, forgive my sin! Cleanse me, cleanse me, Lord, within! I am Thine since Thou hast sought me, Since Thy precious blood hath bought me.

O Thou Lord of my salvation, Grant my soul Thy blood-bought peace. By the tears of lamentation Bid my faith and love increase. Grant me grace to love Thy Word, Grace to keep the message heard, Grace to own Thee as my Treasure, Grace to love Thee without measure.

Anna Hoppe, 1919.

A LUTHERAN PSALMIST OF TODAY

It is gratifying to know that the spirit of hymnody is not dead, and that still today consecrated men and women are being inspired to "sing new songs unto Jehovah," In Milwaukee, Wis., lives a young woman who for several years has been attracting wide-spread attention by her Christian lyrics. Her name is Anna Hoppe, and the hymns she writes suggest strongly something of the style and spirit of the Lutheran hymns of a by-gone age.

Born of German parents in Milwaukee in 1889, she began to write verse in early childhood. Most of them were on patriotic themes, such as Washington, Lincoln, The Battle of Gettysburg, and Paul Jones.

"At the age of about eleven," Miss Hoppe tells us, "I wrote a few lines on Angels."

It was at the age of twenty-five years, however, that she began in earnest the writing of spiritual poetry. Many of her poems were published in religious periodicals and aroused much interest. In the hymnal of the Augustana Synod, published in 1925, twenty-three of her hymns were included. Since that time a collection of her hymns under the title, "Songs of the Church Year," has appeared. In 1930 eight of her lyrics were published in the "American Lutheran Hymnal."

As a prolific writer of hymns, Miss Hoppe probably has no equal in the Lutheran Church today. Her unusual talent seems all the more remarkable when it is known that she is practically self-educated. After she had finished the eighth grade in the Milwaukee public schools, she entered a business office. Since that time she has worked continuously, and has received the benefit of only a few months' training at evening schools. At present she is employed in the office of the Westinghouse Company.

Her hymns are composed in the midst of the stress and hurry of modern life.

"Many of my hymns," she writes, "have been written on my way to and from church, and to and from work. I utilize my lunch hours for typing the hymns and keeping up correspondence. I used to do quite a bit of writing on Sunday afternoons, but now we have a Layman's Hour in our church at that time, and I do not like to miss it. I also attend our Fundamentalist Bible lectures, Jewish mission meetings, and the like. Still I find a minute here and there in which to jot down some verse."

Although few of Miss Hoppe's hymns rise to heights of poetic rapture, they are characterized by a warmth of feeling and fervency of spirit that make them true lyrics. They are thoroughly Scriptural in language, although they sometimes become too dogmatic in phraseology. A deep certainty of faith, however, breathes through their lines and saves them from becoming prosaic.

One of her most beautiful hymns is for New Year's. Its opening stanza reads:

Jesus, O precious Name, By heaven's herald spoken, Jesus, O holy Name, Of love divine the token. Jesus, in Thy dear Name This new year we begin; Bless Thou its opening door, Inscribe Thy Name within.

A hymn for Epiphany reflects something of the same spirit of adoration:

Desire of every nation, Light of the Gentiles, Thou! In fervent adoration Before Thy throne we bow; Our hearts and tongues adore Thee, Blest Dayspring from the skies. Like incense sweet before Thee, Permit our songs to rise.

The final stanza of her Ascension hymn is full of poetic fire:

Ascend, dear Lord! Thou Lamb for sinners slain, Thou blest High Priest, ascend! O King of kings, in righteousness e'er reign, Thy kingdom hath no end. Thy ransomed host on earth rejoices, While angels lift in song their voices. Ascend, dear Lord!

Her fidelity to Scriptural language may be seen in the following simple verses:

Have ye heard the invitation, Sinners ruined by the fall? Famished souls who seek salvation, Have ye heard the loving call? Hark! a herald of the Father Bids you of His supper taste. Round the sacred table gather; All is ready; sinners, haste!

O ye chosen, have ye slighted This sweet call to you proclaimed? Lo! the King hath now invited All the halt, the blind, the maimed: Come, ye poor from out the highways, Come, a feast awaits you, come! Leave the hedges and the byways, Hasten to the Father's home.

We have heard Thee call, dear Father, In Thy Word and sacrament; Round Thy festal board we'll gather Till our life's last day is spent. Ours the risen Saviour's merit, Ours the bounties of Thy love, Ours Thy peace, till we inherit Endless life in heaven above.

Miss Hoppe speaks in glowing terms of the spiritual impressions received in childhood from pious parents and a consecrated pastor, the sainted John Bading, who both baptized and confirmed her. Her father died in 1910.

"He was a very pious Lutheran," she writes, "and so is mother. They often spoke of afternoon prayer meetings they attended in Germany."

Some of her hymns not already mentioned are, "By nature deaf to things divine," "Heavenly Sower, Thou hast scattered," "How blest are they who through the power," "Lord Jesus Christ, the children's Friend," "O dear Redeemer, crucified," "O precious Saviour, heal and bless," "O'er Jerusalem Thou weepest," "Precious Child, so sweetly sleeping," "Repent, the Kingdom draweth nigh," "The Sower goeth forth to sow," "Thou camest down from heaven on high," "Thou hast indeed made manifest," "Thou Lord of life and death," "Thou virgin-born incarnate Word," "O Lord, my God, Thy holy law," "Jesus, Thine unbounded love," "He did not die in vain," "I open wide the portals of my heart," "Rise, my soul, to watch and pray," "O joyful message, sent from heaven," "O Thou who once in Galilee," and "Thou goest to Jerusalem." She is the translator of "O precious thought! some day the mist shall vanish," a hymn from the Swedish, as well as some eighty gems from German hymnody. Thirty-two of her German translations appeared in "The Selah Song Book," edited by Adolf T. Hanser in 1922.

Many of Miss Hoppe's hymns have been written on the pericopes of the Church Year. She has consistently refused to have her hymns copyrighted, believing that no hindrance should be put in the way of any one who desires to use them.

Up to 1930 nearly 400 hymns had appeared from Miss Hoppe's pen. Her ambition is to write a thousand original Christian lyrics.

A Song of Victory

Rise, ye children of salvation, All who cleave to Christ, the Head! Wake, arise, O mighty nation, Ere the foe on Zion tread: He draws nigh, and would defy All the hosts of God Most High.

Saints and heroes, long before us, Firmly on this ground have stood; See their banner waving o'er us, Conquerors through the Saviour's blood! Ground we hold whereon of old Fought the faithful and the bold.

Fighting, we shall be victorious By the blood of Christ our Lord; On our foreheads, bright and glorious, Shines the witness of His Word; Spear and shield on battlefield, His great Name; we cannot yield.

When His servants stand before Him, Each receiving his reward-- When His saints in light adore Him, Giving glory to the Lord-- "Victory!" our song shall be, Like the thunder of the sea.

Justus Falckner, 1697.

SURVEY OF AMERICAN LUTHERAN HYMNODY

It is a significant fact that the first Lutheran pastor to be ordained in America was a hymn-writer. He was Justus Falckner, author of the stirring hymn, "Rise, ye children of salvation."

Falckner, who was born on November 22, 1672, in Langenreinsdorf, Saxony, was the son of a Lutheran pastor at that place. He entered the University of Halle in 1693 as a student of theology under Francke, but for conscientious reasons refused to be ordained upon the completion of his studies. Together with his brother Daniel he became associated with the William Penn colony in America and arranged for the sale of 10,000 acres of land to Rev. Andreas Rudman, who was the spiritual leader of the Swedish Lutherans along the Delaware.

Through Rudman's influence Falckner was induced to enter the ministry, and on November 24, 1703, he was ordained in Gloria Dei Lutheran Church at Wicacoa, Philadelphia. The ordination service was carried out by the Swedish Lutheran pastors, Rudman, Erik Bjork, and Andreas Sandel. Falckner was the first German Lutheran pastor in America, and he also had the distinction of building the first German Lutheran church in the New World--at Falckner's Swamp, New Hanover, Pa. Later he removed to New York, where for twenty years he labored faithfully among the German, Dutch, and Scandinavian settlers in a parish that extended some two hundred miles from Albany to Long Island.

It seems that Falckner's hymn, "Rise, ye children of salvation," was written while he was a student at Halle. It appeared as early as 1697 in "Geistreiches Gesangbuch," and in 1704 it was given a place in Freylinghausen's hymn-book. There is no evidence that Falckner ever translated it into English.

Since the Lutheran Church in America to a large extent employed the German and Scandinavian languages in its worship, it was content for nearly two hundred years to depend on hymn-books originating in the Old World. Not until the latter half of the nineteenth century were serious efforts made to provide Lutheran hymn-books in the English language. Writers of original hymns were few in number, but a number of excellent translators appeared.

Through the efforts of these translators, an increasing number of Lutheran hymns from the rich store of German and Scandinavian hymnody are being introduced in the hymn-books of this country. Pioneers in this endeavor about half a century ago were Charles Porterfield Krauth, noted theologian and vice-provost of the University of Pennsylvania; Joseph A. Seiss, of Philadelphia, pastor and author, to whom we are indebted for the translation of "Beautiful Saviour" and "Winter reigns o'er many a region"; and Charles William Schaeffer, Philadelphia theologian, who translated Held's "Come, O come, Thou quickening Spirit" and Rambach's beautiful baptism hymn, "Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." Mrs. Harriet Krauth Spaeth also belongs to this group, her most notable contribution being the translation of the medieval Christian hymn, "Behold, a Branch is growing."

Later translators of German hymns were Matthias Loy, for many years president of Capital University, Columbus, Ohio; August Crull, professor of German at Concordia College, Fort Wayne, Ind., and Conrad H. L. Schuette, professor of theology at Capital University and later president of the Joint Synod of Ohio. Loy was not only a translator but also an author of no mean ability. Among his original hymns that seem destined to live are "Jesus took the babes and blessed them," "I thank Thee, Jesus, for the grief," and "O great High Priest, forget not me." His splendid translations include such hymns as Selnecker's "Let me be Thine forever," Schenck's "Now our worship sweet is o'er" and Hiller's "God in human flesh appearing." From Schuette we have received in English dress Behm's "O holy, blessed Trinity," while Crull's most successful translations are Homburg's "Where wilt Thou go, since night draws near?" and Ludaemilia Elizabeth of Schwartzburg-Rudolstadt's beautiful hymn, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus only."

Among the living translators of German hymns, H. Brueckner, professor at Hebron College, Hebron, Nebraska, takes first rank. In the American Lutheran Hymnal, published in 1930 by a Lutheran intersynodical committee, he is represented by some seventy translations from the German, three from the French, and four original hymns. Although Brueckner's work is too recent to be properly evaluated, his hymns reveal evidences of genuine lyrical quality and true devotional spirit.

Other successful translators of German hymns are John Caspar Mattes, Lutheran pastor at Scranton, Pa.; Emmanuel Cronenwett, pastor emeritus at Butler, Pa., and Paul E. Kretzmann, of Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Mo., Lutheran theologian and commentator. To Mattes we are indebted for the English version of Gotter's "Friend of the weary, O refresh us" and Albinus' "Smite us not in anger, Lord." Cronenwett and Kretzmann have written a number of excellent original hymns in addition to their translations. The American Lutheran Hymnal contains nine of these by the former and seventeen from the pen of the latter. Cronenwett's hymns are chiefly didactic, but occasionally he soars to lyrical heights, as in "Of omnipresent grace I sing." Among Kretzmann's best efforts are "Lead on, O Lord" and "Praise and honor to the Father." A note of praise to the Holy Trinity is heard in practically all of Kretzmann's hymns.

The foremost translator of Swedish hymns is Ernst W. Olson, office editor of Augustana Book Concern, Rock Island, Ill. From his gifted pen we have received the English version of such gems as Wallin's "All hail to thee, O blessed morn," "From peaceful slumber waking," "Jerusalem, lift up thy voice," "Mute are the pleading lips of Him," and "Heavenly Light, benignly beaming"; Franzen's "Ajar the temple gates are swinging," "Come, O Jesus, and prepare me," and "When vesper bells are calling"; Soderberg's "In the temple where our fathers," Geijer's "In triumph our Redeemer," Petri's "Now hail we our Redeemer" and "Thy sacred Word, O Lord, of old," and Carl Olof Rosenius' "With God and His mercy, His Spirit and Word." Olson has also written a number of excellent original hymns, including "Mine eyes unto the mountains," "Behold, by sovereign grace alone," and "Glorious yuletide, glad bells proclaim it."

Other translators of Swedish hymns include Claude W. Foss, professor of history at Augustana College, Rock Island, Ill.; Victor O. Peterson, formerly with the same institution, but now deceased; George H. Trabert, Lutheran pastor at Minneapolis, Minn.; Augustus Nelson, Lutheran pastor at Gibbon, Minn.; Olof Olsson, for many years president of Augustana College, and August W. Kjellstrand, who until his death in 1930 was professor of English at the same institution. Among the finest contributions by Foss are translations of Nystrom's "O Fount of truth and mercy," Hedborn's "With holy joy my soul doth beat," and Franzen's "Thy scepter, Jesus, shall extend." Nelson has given us beautiful renderings of Franzen's "Prepare the way, O Zion" and "Awake, the watchman crieth," and Wallin's "Jesus, Lord and precious Saviour." Peterson is the translator of Arrhenius' "Jesus is my friend most precious" and Wallin's Advent hymn, "O bride of Christ, rejoice." Olsson, who was one of the earliest translators of Swedish lyrics, has given us Franzen's communion hymn, "Thine own, O loving Saviour," and another on the Lord's Supper by Spegel, "The death of Jesus Christ, our Lord." Kjellstrand's version of Hedborn's sublime hymn of praise, "Holy Majesty, before Thee," is one of the most successful efforts at converting Swedish hymns into the English language. To these translators should also be added the name of Anders O. Bersell, for many years professor of Greek at Augustana College, who gave poetic English form to Lina Sandell's "Jerusalem, Jerusalem" and Rutstrom's "Come, Saviour dear, with us abide."

A number of translators and writers besides those here named made new contributions to the Hymnal of the Augustana Synod published in 1925.

About twenty-five years ago a group of literary men within the Norwegian Lutheran Synods undertook the task of translating some of the gems of Danish and Norwegian hymnody. Among these were C. Doving, now a city missionary in Chicago; George T. Rygh, also residing at the present time in Chicago; C. K. Solberg, pastor of St. Paul's Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, Minn.; O. T. Sanden, and O. H. Smedby, former Lutheran pastor at Albert Lea, Minn., now deceased. Doving's masterpiece undoubtedly is his translation of Grundtvig's "Built on the Rock, the Church doth stand," although he will also be remembered for his rendering of Holm's "How blessed is the little flock," and Landstad's "Before Thee, God, who knowest all." Rygh's contribution consists of the translation of such hymns as Grundtvig's "Peace to soothe our bitter woes," Kingo's "Our table now with food is spread," Landstad's "Speak, O Lord, Thy servant heareth," Boye's "O Light of God's most wondrous love," and Brun's "Heavenly Spirit, all others transcending." Sanden has translated Brun's "The sun has gone down," while Smedby has left us a fine version of Boye's "Abide with us, the day is waning." While Solberg has translated some hymns, he is known better as a writer of original lyrics. Among these are "Lift up your eyes, ye Christians," "Fellow Christians, let us gather," and "O blessed Light from heaven."

Foremost among recent translators of Danish hymns are J. C. Aaberg, pastor of St. Peter's Danish Lutheran church, Minneapolis, Minn., and P. C. Paulsen, pastor of Golgotha Danish Lutheran church, Chicago, Ill. In the American Lutheran Hymnal there are nineteen translations by Aaberg, while Paulsen is represented by a like number. Through the efforts of these men, both of whom possess no mean poetic ability, many of the finest hymns of Brorson, Kingo, Grundtvig, Ingemann, Vig, and Pawels have been introduced to American Lutherans. Paulsen is the author of three original hymns, "Blest is he who cries to heaven," "Take my heart, O Jesus," and "Let us go to Galilee," while Aaberg has written "There is a blessed power."

One of the most richly endowed hymn-writers in the Lutheran Church today is A. F. Rohr, pastor at Fremont, O. From his pen we have received such hymns as "Eternal God, omnipotent," "Lord of life and light and blessing," "From afar, across the waters," and "Living Fountain, freely flowing." For poetic expression and graceful rhythm his hymns are unsurpassed by any contemporary writer. He also combines such depth of feeling with the lyrical qualities of his hymns, they no doubt possess enduring qualities. Witness the following hymn:

Living Fountain, freely flowing In the sheen of heaven's day, Grace and life on us bestowing, Wash Thou all our sins away.

Fountain whence alone the living Draw the life they boast as theirs, By Thy grace, a gift whose giving Life of life forever shares.

Who Thy mighty depths can measure? Who can sound, with earthly line, Thy profundity of treasure, Thy infinity divine?

They who quaff Thy wave shall never Thirst again; for springing free In their hearts, a fount forever Thou to them of life shall be.

May we drink of Thee rejoicing, Till on heaven's sinless shore We Thy virtues shall be voicing With the blest for evermore.

Samuel M. Miller, dean of the Lutheran Bible Institute, Minneapolis, Minn., is the writer of a number of spiritual songs and hymns that have become popular in Bible conference circles. Among his hymns are "In the holy Father's keeping" and "When Jesus comes in glory."

W. H. Lehmann, superintendent of home missions in the American Lutheran Church, has written "Take Thou my life, dear Lord," and "Beneath Thy cross I stand," the latter a passion hymn of rare beauty:

Beneath Thy cross I stand And view Thy marred face; O Son of man, must Thou thus die To save a fallen race?

Alone Thou bear'st the wrath That should on sinners fall, While from Thy holy wounds forthflows A stream of life for all.

O Lamb of God so meek, Beneath Thy cross I bow: Heart-stricken, all my sins confess-- O hear, forgive me now!

O Son of God, look down In mercy now on me And heal my wounds of sin and death, That I may live to Thee!

INDEX OF NOTABLE HYMNS ESPECIALLY PRESENTED IN THIS VOLUME

The Angelic Hymn 12 Glory be to God on high. The Oldest Christian Hymn 18 Shepherd of tender youth.--_Clement of Alexandria._ An Ambrosian Advent Hymn 24 Come, Thou Saviour of our race.--_Aurelius Ambrose._ A Prophetic Easter Hymn 30 Welcome, happy morning!--_Venantius Fortunatus._ A Tribute to the Dying Saviour 34 O sacred Head, now wounded.--_Bernard of Clairvaux._ The Battle Hymn of the Reformation 42 A mighty Fortress is our God.--_Luther._ A Metrical Gloria in Excelsis 52 All glory be to Thee, Most High.--_Nicolaus Decius._ A Beautiful Confirmation Hymn 58 Let me be Thine forever.--_Nicolaus Selnecker._ A Masterpiece of Hymnody 64 Wake, awake, for night is flying.--_Philipp Nicolai._ A Tribute to the Dying Saviour 68 Ah, holy Jesus, how hast Thou offended.--_Johann Heermann._ The Swan Song of Gustavus Adolphus 76 Be not dismayed, thou little flock.--_Johann Michael Altenberg._ Rinkart's Hymn of Praise 80 Now thank we all our God.--_Martin Rinkart._ A Joyous Christmas Carol 84 All my heart this night rejoices.--_Paul Gerhardt._ A Glorious Paean of Praise 92 Praise to the Lord, the Almighty.--_Joachim Neander._ A Hymn Classic by Scheffler 98 Thee will I love, my Strength, my Tower.--_Johann Scheffler._ A Gem among Pietistic Hymns 102 O Jesus, Source of calm repose.--_Johann Anastasius Freylinghausen._ A Hymn of Longing for Christ 110 O Son of God, we wait for Thee.--_Philipp Friedrich Hiller._ A Noble Hymn of Worship 116 Light of light, enlighten me.--_Benjamin Schmolck._ A Hymn on the Mystical Union 122 Thou hidden love of God.--_Gerhard Tersteegen._ Following a Heavenly Leader 126 Jesus, still lead on.--_Nicolaus Ludwig Count Zinzendorf._ A Glorious Hymn of Adoration 130 Beautiful Saviour. A Classical Harvest Hymn 134 We plow the fields.--_Matthias Claudius._ A Picture of a Christian Home 140 O happy home, where Thou art loved the dearest.--_Carl Johann Spitta._ A Hymn in Luther's Style 148 Our Father, merciful and good.--_Olavus Petri._ A Model Hymn of Invocation 154 O Lord, give heed unto our plea.--_Jesper Swedberg._ Wallin's Sublime Morning Hymn 160 Again Thy glorious sun doth rise.--_Johan Olof Wallin._ A Vision of Christ's Triumph 168 Thy scepter, Jesus, shall extend.--_Frans Michael Franzen._ A Longing For Home 176 Jerusalem, Jerusalem.--_Carolina Vilhelmina Sandell Berg._ Kingo's Sunrise Hymn 184 The sun arises now.--_Thomas Kingo._ The Great White Host 190 Behold, a host arrayed in white.--_Hans Adolph Brorson._ A Prayer to the Holy Spirit 196 Holy Spirit, come with light.--_Nicolai Grundtvig._ A Norwegian Miserere 202 Before Thee, God, who knowest all.--_Magnus Brorstrup Landstad._ Ken's Immortal Evening Hymn 208 Glory to Thee, my God, this night.--_Thomas Ken._ The Pearl of English Hymnody 214 When I survey the wondrous cross.--_Watts._ Seeking the Heavenly Prize 220 Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve.--_Philip Doddridge._ A Hymn of the Ages 224 Jesus, Lover of my soul.--_Charles Wesley._ Another Hymn of the Ages 232 Rock of Ages, cleft for me.--_Augustus M. Toplady._ The Coronation Hymn 238 All hail the power of Jesus' Name.--_Edward Perronet._ In Praise of the Word of God 244 Father of Mercies.--_Anne Steele._ The Name above All Names 248 How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds.--_John Newton._ A Hymn on God's Providence 252 God moves in a mysterious way.--_William Cowper._ A Hymn of Gracious Invitation 258 Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish.--_Thomas Moore._ A Beautiful Lyric on Prayer 262 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire.--_James Montgomery._ A Sublime Hymn of Adoration 268 Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty.--_Reginald Heber._ A Hymn That Wins Souls 274 Just as I am, without one plea.--_Charlotte Elliott._ The Sun That Ne'er Goes Down 278 Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear.--_John Keble._ The Hymn of a Perplexed Soul 284 Lead, kindly Light.--_John Henry Newman._ A Hymn Written in the Shadows 290 Abide with me! fast falls the eventide.--_Henry Francis Lyte._ A Woman's Gift to the Church 296 Nearer, my God, to Thee.--_Sarah Adams._ That Sweet Story of Old 300 I think, when I read that sweet story of old.--_Jemima Luke._ Redemption's Story in a Hymn 304 There is a green hill far away.--_Cecil Frances Alexander._ The Voice of Jesus 310 I heard the voice of Jesus say.--_Horatius Bonar._ The Dayspring from on High 316 O very God of very God.--_John Mason Neale._ A Great Marching Song 322 Onward, Christian soldiers.--_Sabine Baring-Gould._ A Rapturous Hymn of Adoration 326 O Saviour, precious Saviour.--_Frances Ridley Havergal._ The Emblem that Survives 332 In the cross of Christ I glory.--_John Bowring._ A Hymn That Opens Hearts 336 O Jesus, Thou art standing.--_William Walsham How._ A Blind Man's Hymn of Faith 340 O Love that wilt not let me go.--_George Matheson._ The First American Hymn 346 I love Thy Zion, Lord.--_Timothy Dwight._ The Hymn of a Wounded Spirit 352 I love to steal awhile away.--_Phoebe Hinsdale Brown._ A Triumphant Missionary Hymn 358 Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning.--_Thomas Hastings._ Key's Hymn of Praise 362 Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee.--_Francis Scott Key._ Bryant's Home Mission Hymn 366 Look from Thy sphere of endless day.--_William Cullen Bryant._ An Exquisite Baptismal Hymn 370 Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding.--_William Augustus Muhlenberg._ The Way, the Truth, and the Life 374 Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life.--_George Washington Doane._ The Quaker Poet's Prayer 378 Dear Lord and Father of mankind.--_John Greenleaf Whittier._ Palmer's Famous Hymn 382 My faith looks up to Thee.--_Ray Palmer._ A Hopeful Missionary Lyric 388 The morning light is breaking.--_Samuel Francis Smith._ A Pearl among Christmas Carols 394 It came upon the midnight clear.--_Edmund Hamilton Sears._ Mrs. Stowe's Hymn Masterpiece 398 Still, still with Thee.--_Harriet Beecher Stowe._ Bishop Coxe's Missionary Hymn 406 Saviour, sprinkle many nations.--_Arthur Cleveland Coxe._ The Hymn of a Consecrated Woman 410 More love to Thee, O Christ.--_Elisabeth Payson Prentiss._ A Hymn of the Sea 414 Jesus, Saviour, pilot me.--_Edward Hopper._ A Rally Hymn of the Church 418 Stand up, stand up for Jesus.--_George Duffield._ A Hymn of Spiritual Yearning 422 We would see Jesus.--_Anna Bartlett Warner._ A Famous Christmas Carol 426 O little town of Bethlehem.--_Phillips Brooks._ The Story That Never Grows Old 430 I love to hear the story.--_Emily Huntington Miller._ A Hymn of Sweet Consolation 434 Safe in the arms of Jesus.--_Frances Jane Crosby._ The Call of the Gospel Song 440 Sing them over again to me.--_Philip P. Bliss._ Chautauqua Vesper Hymn 444 Day is dying in the west.--_Mary Artimisia Lathbury._ In His Footsteps 448 O Master, let me walk with Thee.--_Washington Gladden._ A Hymn of the City 452 Where cross the crowded ways of life.--_Frank Mason North._ A Gripping Hymn by a Girl 456 O'er Jerusalem Thou weepest.--_Anna Hoppe._ A Song of Victory 462 Rise, ye children of salvation.--_Justus Falckner._

ALPHABETICAL INDEX OF HYMNS AND SOURCES

PAGE A Babe is born in Bethlehem 200 A charge to keep I have 227 A few more years shall roll 313, 314 A great and mighty wonder 22 A mighty Fortress is our God 42, 78 A pilgrim and a stranger 89 A voice, a heavenly voice I hear 167 Abide with me, fast falls the eventide 183, 271, 290, 291 Abide with us, Our Saviour 73 Abide with us, the day is waning 468 According to Thy gracious Word 263 Again Thy glorious sun doth rise 160, 167 Agnus Dei 57 Ah, holy Jesus, how hast Thou offended 68 Ajar the temple gates are swinging 170, 466 Alas, and did my Saviour bleed 218 Alas, my God, my sins are great 63 All blessing, honor, thanks, and praise 54 All glory be to God on high 52, 56, 308 All glory be to Thee, Most High 52, 56 All glory, laud, and honor 35 All hail the power of Jesus' Name 238, 239, 241, 416 All hail to thee, O blessed morn 65, 466 All my heart this night rejoices 84, 89, 308 All praise to Thee, my God, this night 242 All that I was, my sin, my guilt 314 All the way my Saviour leads me 437 All things bright and beautiful 307 Almost persuaded 442 Amazing grace! how sweet the sound 251 Am I a soldier of the cross 218 Angels, from the realms of glory 263 Approach, my soul, the mercy seat 251 Arise, arise, ye Christians 90 Arise, my soul, arise 227 Arise, the kingdom is at hand 90 Art thou weary 23, 318 Ascend, dear Lord 459 As pants the hart for cooling streams 294 As the rose shall blossom here 200 Awake, all things that God has made 192 Awake, my heart, and marvel 89 Awake, my soul, and with the sun 209, 211 Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve 220 Awake, my soul, to joyful lays 247 Awake, the watchman crieth 170, 467 Awake, Thou Spirit, who didst fire 106, 107 Baptized into Thy Name most holy 108 Beautiful Saviour 130, 131, 132, 464 Before Jehovah's awful throne 218 Before Thee, God 202, 206, 468 Behold, a Branch is growing 464 Behold a host, arrayed in white 190, 191, 193 Behold, by sovereign grace alone 466 Behold the glories of the lamb 216 Behold, the joyful day is nigh 167 Behold the man! how heavy lay 139 Behold, the Saviour of mankind 226 Benedicite 14 Benedictus 14 Be not dismayed, thou little flock 76, 77, 78, 79 Beneath Thy Cross I stand 470 Beside Thy manger here I stand 89 Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine 437 Blessed, blessed, he who knoweth 165 Blessed Jesus, at Thy Word 74 Blessed Jesus, here we stand 118 Blessed Saviour, who hast taught me 319 Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power 314 Bless us, Father, and protect us 157 Blest are the pure in heart 283 Blest be the tie that binds 247 Blest Easter day, what joy is thine 151 Blest is he who cries to heaven 469 Bread of the world in mercy broken 272 Break Thou the Bread of life 447 Brethren, called by one vocation 143 Brief life is here our portion 39 Built on the Rock, the Church doth stand 199, 200, 468 By cool Siloam's shady rill 272 By faith we are divinely sure 194 By nature deaf to things divine 460 By the holy hills surrounded 143 Calm on the listening ear of night 395, 396 Chime, happy Christmas bells, once more 199 Children of God, born again of His Spirit 194 Children of the heavenly Father 178 Children of the heavenly King 242 Christ, the Life of all the living 72 Christ, whose glory fills the sky 227 Come, follow me, the Saviour spake 101 Come, Holy Spirit, from above 51 Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord 51 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove 218 Come, my soul, thy suit prepare 251 Come, O come, Thou quickening Spirit 72, 464 Come, O Jesus, and prepare me 170, 466 Come, Saviour dear, with us abide 467 Come, sound His praise abroad 218 Come, Thou long-expected Jesus 227 Come, Thou Saviour of our race 24, 28, 51 Come to Calvary's holy mountain 263 Come, ye disconsolate 228, 260 Come, ye faithful, raise the strain 23 Comfort, comfort ye My people 73 Commit thou all thy griefs 89, 229 Crushed by my sin, O Lord, to Thee 137 Day is dying in the west 444, 445 Day of judgment, day of wonders 251 Dayspring of eternity 74 De contemptu mundi 39 De Nomine Jesu 38, 39 Dear Christians, one and all rejoice 51 Dear Lord and Father of mankind 378, 381, 383 Dear Refuge of my weary soul 246 Dearest Jesus, draw Thou near me 188 Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness 74 Deem not that they are blest alone 369 Den yndigste Rose er funden 192 Desire of every nation 459 Despair not, O heart, in thy sorrow 29 Deus ignee fons animarum 29 Dies irae, dies illa 39 Down life's dark vale we wander 443 Earth has nothing sweet or fair 101 Ein Feste Burg 49, 82 Eternal God, omnipotent 469 Everywhere, everywhere, Christmas tonight 428 Fade, fade, each earthly joy 315 Fair beyond telling 200 Fairest Lord Jesus 130, 131, 132 Faith of our fathers, living still 288, 289 Faithful cross! above all other 32 Faithful God, I lay before Thee 71 Father, merciful and holy 90 Father of all, Thy care we bless 223 Father, whate'er of earthly bliss 245 Father of lights, eternal Lord 167 Father of mercies, in Thy Word 244, 246 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit 464 Father, while the shadows fall 432 Father, who hast created all 144 Fellow Christians, let us gather 468 Fierce was the wild billow 22 Fling out the banner! let it float 376, 377 For all the saints who from their labors rest 183, 339 For a season called to part 251 For thee, O dear, dear country 39 Forever with the Lord 263, 266 Founded on Thee, our only Lord 391 Free from the law, O happy condition 443 Friend of the weary, O refresh us 466 From afar, across the waters 469 From Greenland's icy mountains 269, 270, 390 From peaceful slumber waking 466 From the grave remove dark crosses 200 Full of reverence, at Thy Word 139 Gently, Lord, O gently lead us 361 Gloria in Excelsis, A metrical 52, 56 Gloria in Excelsis 14, 15 Gloria Patri 14, 82 Glorious things of Thee are spoken 251 Glorious yuletide, glad bells proclaim it 466 Glory be to God on high 12 Glory be to Jesus 320 Glory to Thee, my God, this night 208, 209 God calling yet! shall I not hear 125, 309 God hath sent his angels 428 God Himself is present 125 God, in human flesh appearing 112, 465 God is Love; His mercy brightens 335 God is in His temple 125 God moves in a mysterious way 252, 254 God of Ages, all transcending 91 God of mercy, God of grace 294 God save the King 392 God that madest earth and heaven 272 God will take care of you 438 Go forth, my heart, and seek delight 89 Go, labor on! Spend and be spent! 313 Go, messenger of love, and bear 355, 356 Go to dark Gethsemane 263 Good news from heaven the angels bring 51 Great God, we sing that mighty hand 223 Great joy and consolation 167 Great White Host, The 190, 191, 193 Guardian of pure hearts 167 Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah 243 Hail the day that sees Him rise 227 Hail to the brightness of Zion's 358, 360 Hail to the Lord's Anointed 263 Hallelujah, Lo, He wakes 118 Hark! a thrilling voice is sounding! 320 Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound 350 Hark, hark, my soul! angelic songs 288 Hark, the glad sound, the Saviour comes 223 Hark! the herald angels sing 227, 242 Hark! the song of jubilee 266 Hast to the plow thou put thy hand 200 Have ye heard the invitation 459 Heaven and earth, and sea and air 97 Heavenly Light, benignly beaming 167, 466 Heavenly Sower, Thou hast scattered 460 Heavenly Spirit, all others transcending 468 He did not die in vain 460 He lives! O fainting heart, anew 167 He that believes and is baptized 188 He who has helped me hitherto 201 Help us, O Lord, behold we enter 90 Here behold me, as I cast me 97 Herzlich thut mich verlangen 36 Herzliebster Jesu 70 Hold the fort, for I am coming 442 Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness 89 Holy, holy, holy, blessed Lord 146 Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty 268, 269, 271 Holy Majesty, before Thee 65, 171, 467 How art Thy servants blest, O Lord 212 How beauteous are their feet 218 How blessed from the bonds of sin 143 How blessed is the little flock 468 How blest are they who through the power 460 How doth the busy little bee 218 How gracious, kind and good, my great High Priest 124 How helpless guilty nature lies 246 How precious is the Book divine 247 How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds 248, 249, 250 Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber 218 I am so glad that our Father in heaven 443 I am Thine, O Lord 437 I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus 331 I bow my forehead to the dust 381 I come, invited by Thy Word 189 I come to Thee, O blessed Lord 206 I gave My life for thee 328 I have a Friend, so patient, kind, forbearing 182 I heard the bells of Christmas day 383 I heard the voice of Jesus say 310, 314 I know in whom I trust 167 I know no life divided 143 I know of a sleep in Jesus' Name 206 I lay my sins on Jesus 313, 314 I love Thy Zion, Lord 346, 351 I love to hear the story 430ff I love to steal awhile away 352, 354, 355 I near the grave, where'er I go 194 I open wide the portals of my heart 460 I place myself in Jesus' hands 143 I see Thee standing, Lamb of God 194 I thank Thee, Jesus, for Thy grief 465 I think, when I read that sweet story 300ff I was a wandering sheep 313 I would not live alway 372, 373 I'll praise my Maker, while I've breath 229 If God Himself be for me 87 If God were not upon our side 56 If thou but suffer God to guide thee 90 Immanuel, we sing Thy praise 89 In age and feebleness extreme 226 In death's strong grasp the Saviour lay 51 In heaven above, in heaven above 173, 174 In holy contemplation 254 In my quiet contemplation 167 In the cross of Christ I glory 332ff In the Holy Father's keeping 470 In the temple where our fathers 466 In the hour of trial 263 In the silent midnight watches 409 In Thy dear wounds I fall asleep 55 In triumph our Redeemer 162, 466 In vain we seek for peace with God 218 It came upon the midnight clear 394ff Jeg gaar i Kare, hvor jeg gaar 193 Jehovah, Thee we glorify 166 Jerusalem, Jerusalem 176, 467 Jerusalem, lift up thy voice 167, 466 Jerusalem, my happy home 263, 266 Jerusalem the golden 39, 318 Jerusalem, thou city fair and high 73 Jesus bids us shine 432 Jesus calls us; o'er the tumult 307 Jesus Christ as King is reigning 113 Jesus, I my cross have taken 294 Jesus, I will trust Thee 331 Jesus is my Friend most precious 159, 467 Jesus is my Joy, my All 90 Jesus is tenderly calling thee home 437 Jesus, Jesus, Jesus only 465 Jesus, keep me near the cross 437 Jesus, lead the way 126, 129 Jesus lives! thy terrors now 137 Jesus, Lord and precious Saviour 167, 467 Jesus, Lover of my soul 224, 227, 230, 231, 235, 291, 350 Jesus loves me, this I know 423, 424 Jesus, Name of wondrous grace 194 Jesus, Name of wondrous love 339 Jesus, O precious Name 458 Jesus, priceless Treasure 75 Jesus, Saviour come to me 101 Jesus, Saviour, pilot me 414ff Jesus shall reign where'er the sun 216 Jesus sinners doth receive 119 Jesus, still lead on 126, 129, 308 Jesus, the very thought of Thee 38, 320, 455 Jesus, these eyes have never seen 386 Jesus, Thine unbounded love 460 Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts (O Jesus, Joy of loving hearts) Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness 129, 229 Jesus took the babes and blessed them 465 Jesus, where'er Thy people meet 254 Jesus, whom Thy Church doth own 125 Joy to the world, the Lord is come 217 Just as I am, without one plea 274ff Lauda, Sion, salvatorem 40 Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom 284ff Lead on, Lord 466 Let dogs delight to bark and bite 218 Let me be thine forever 58, 465 Let, O my soul, thy God direct thee 90 Let the earth now praise the Lord 72 Let the lower lights be burning 443 Let us go to Galilee 469 Life's day is ended 194 Lift up your eyes, ye Christians 468 Lift up your heads, ye gates of brass 266 Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates 72 Light of light, enlighten me 116, 118 Light of Light, O Sun of heaven 72 Light of the Gentile nations 74 Like Noah's weary dove 372 Like the golden sun ascending 187 Living Fountain, freely flowing 469 Lobe den Herren 92, 95, 183 Lo, God is here, let us adore 124 Lo, He comes, with clouds descending 242 Look from Thy sphere of endless day 366ff, 383 Look to Jesus Christ thy Saviour 171 Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing 247 Lord, disperse the mists of error 173 Lord God, we praise Thee 46 Lord God, we worship Thee 75 Lord Jesus Christ, my Life, my Light 61 Lord Jesus Christ, the children's Friend 460 Lord, Jesus Christ, to Thee we pray 51 Lord Jesus Christ, true man and God 56 Lord, keep us in Thy Word and work 53 Lord, keep us steadfast in Thy Word 51, 53, 183 Lord of life and light and blessing 469 Lord of the worlds above 218 Lord, speak to me 331 Lord, Thou Source of all perfection 139 Lord, Thy death and passion give 71 Lord, to Thee I make confession 74 Lord, we confess our numerous faults 218 Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee 362ff Love divine, all love excelling 227 Love, the fount of light from heaven 200 Loving Shepherd, kind and true 101 Lustra sex qui jam peregit 33 Magnificat 14, 15 Majestic sweetness sits enthroned 247 May the grace of Christ our Saviour 251 Mine eyes unto the mountains 466 More love to Thee, O Christ 410ff Mute are the pleading lips of Him 167, 466 My country, 'tis of thee 389, 392, 393 My dear Redeemer and my Lord 218 My faith looks up to Thee 375, 382ff My God, I know that I must die 118, 309 My God, my Father, while I stray 277 My heart, prepare to give account 194 My hope is God 21 My inmost heart now raises 56 My Jesus, as Thou wilt 118, 308 My soul, repeat His praise 218 My spirit on Thy care 294 My thoughts on awful subjects roll 350 My truest Friend abides in heaven 118 Nearer, my God, to Thee 183, 287, 296ff Near the cross was Mary weeping 40 New every morning is the love 279 Not all the blood of beasts 218 Not what my hands have done 314 Now be the gospel banner 360 Now hail we our Redeemer 28, 151, 466 Now I have found the ground wherein 114 Now our worship sweet is o'er 465 Now Israel's hope in triumph ends 65, 172 Now rest beneath night's shadow 89 Now thank we all our God 80, 81, 82, 308 Now the day is over 325 Nunc Dimittis 14 Nun danket alle Gott 80, 81, 82 Nun ruhen alle Walder 88, 89 O bless the Lord, my soul 218 O blessed is the man who stays 161 O blessed Light from heaven 468 O blessed sun, whose splendor 144 O blest the house, whate'er befall 113 O boundless joy, there is salvation 113 O bride of Christ, rejoice 467 O Christ, our true and only Light 71 O Christ, Thy grace unto us lend 73 O come, Eternal Spirit 143 O could I speak the matchless worth 247 O darkest woe 90 O dear Redeemer, crucified 460 O dearest Lord, receive from me 188 O enter, Lord, Thy temple 89 O for a closer walk with God 254 O Fount of good, to own Thy love 223 O Fount of truth and mercy 175, 467 O gladsome Light 20 O God, our help in ages past 217, 218 O God, whom we as Father know 144 O great High Priest, forget not me 465 O happy home where Thou art loved the dearest 140, 142, 309 O happy day, that stays my choice 222 O holy, blessed Trinity 61, 62, 465 O Holy Spirit, enter in 65, 90 O how blest are ye 73, 74 O how shall I receive Thee 88 O Jesus, Saviour dear 71 O Jesus Christ, Thou Bread of Life 90 O Jesus, Joy of loving hearts 39, 385, 455 O Jesus! King most wonderful 39, 320 O Jesus, King of glory 61 O Jesus, Source of calm repose 102, 106, 229 O Jesus, Thou art standing 336 O joyful message, sent from heaven 460 O Lamb of God, most holy 57 O let the children come to Me 167 O let Thy Spirit with us tarry 200 O Light of God's most wondrous love 468 O little child, lie still and sleep 424 O little town of Bethlehem 426ff O Living Bread from heaven 90 O Love divine, all else transcending 125 O Love divine, that stooped to share 383 O Love that wilt not let me go 340ff O Lord, devoutly love I Thee 63 O Lord, give heed unto our plea 154 O Lord, my God, Thy holy law 460 O Master, let me walk with Thee 448, 449 O Paradise, O Paradise 288 O precious Saviour, heal and bless 460 O precious thought! some day the mist shall vanish 182, 460 O sacred Head, now wounded 34, 35, 89, 183 O Saviour, bless us ere we go 288 O Saviour dear 89 O Saviour of our race 108 O Saviour, precious Saviour 326, 331 O seek the Lord today 194 O Shepherd, abide with us, care for us still 182 O Son of God, we wait for Thee 110, 113 O that I had a thousand voices 115 O that the Lord would guide my ways 218 O that the Lord's salvation 294 O Thou, who by a star didst guide 319 O Thou who once in Galilee 460 O Thou, whose infant feet were found 272 O Thou whose tender mercy hears 247 O timely happy, timely wise 282 O Tree of beauty, Tree of light 33 O very God of very God 316 O watch and pray 194 O where are kings and empires now 408, 409 O wondrous kingdom here on earth 200 O Word of God Incarnate 339 O worship the King 272 O would, my God, that I could praise Thee 114 O'er Jerusalem Thou weepest 456, 460 Of omnipresent grace I sing 466 On my heart imprint Thine image 188 On what has now been sown 251 Once in David's royal city 307 One more day's work for Jesus 425 One there is above all others 251 Onward, Christian soldiers 322ff Onward speed thy conquering flight 390 Open now thy gates of beauty 118, 308 Others He hath succored 178 Our Father, merciful and good 148, 150, 151 Our table now with food is spread 468 Out of the depths I cry to Thee 51, 308 Over Kedron Jesus treadeth 188 Pange lingua glorioso 33 Pass me not, O gentle Saviour 437 Peace to soothe our bitter woes 210, 468 Pleasant are Thy courts above 294 Praise and honor to the Father 466 Praise, my soul, the King of heaven 294, 295 Praise the Lord, each tribe and nation 75 Praise the Saviour 33 Praise to Thee and adoration 188 Praise to the Lord, the Almighty 92, 95, 308 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire 262, 263 Precious Child, so sweetly sleeping 460 Precious Word from God in heaven 118, 119 Prepare the way, O Zion 170, 467 Rejoice, all ye believers 108 Repent, the Kingdom draweth nigh 460 Rescue the perishing 437 Rise, my soul, to watch and pray 460 Rise, O Salem, rise and shine; 90 Rise, ye children of salvation 462, 463, 464 Rock of Ages, cleft for me 232ff, 291, 351, 420 Safely through another week 251 Safe in the arms of Jesus 434, 438 Salve caput cruentatum 38 Saviour, O hide not Thy loving face from me 178 Saviour, sprinkle many nations 406, 407 Saviour, when in dust to Thee 273 Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding 370, 372 Say, my soul, what preparation 144 Schoenster Herr Jesu 130, 131, 132 See Israel's gentle Shepherd stand 222 Shepherd of tender youth 18, 19, 20 Shine on our souls, eternal God 222 Shout the glad tidings 372 Shun, my heart, the thought forever 89 Silent night, holy night 183 Sinful world, behold the anguish 74 Sing them over again to me 440, 443 Singing for Jesus, our Saviour 331 Sinners may to Christ draw near 119 Smite us not in anger, Lord 466 So let our lips and lives express 218 Softly now the day is ending 189 Softly now the light of day 376 Soldiers of Christ, arise 227 Some day the silver cord will break 437, 439 Sometimes a light surprises 254 Soul of mine, to God awaking 90 Spare not the stroke 315 Speak, O Lord, Thy servant heareth 468 Speed away 437 Splendid are the heavens high 200 Stabat mater dolorosa 40 Stand fast, my soul, stand fast 194 Stand up, stand up for Jesus 418ff Stars of the morning 23 Stille Nacht! heilige Nacht 131, 132, 133 Still, still with Thee 398, 399 Strike up, O harp and psaltery 107 Strike with the hammer of Thy Word 415 Suffering Son of Man, be near me 227 Summer suns are glowing 339 Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear 278, 279, 282, 283 Sunk is the sun's last beam of light 56 Sweet hour of prayer 437 Sweet Saviour, bless us ere we go 288 Take my heart, O Jesus 469 Take my life, and let it be 329 Take the Name of Jesus with you 433 Take Thou my life, dear Lord 470 Te Deum, German 82 Te Deum Laudamus 14, 28, 165 Ter Sanctus 14 That day of wrath, that dreadful day 40 That mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord 399 The day departs, yet Thou art near 169 The day is past and over 22 The day of resurrection 23, 318 The day is surely drawing nigh 61 The death of Jesus Christ, our Lord 157, 158, 467 The kingdoms of this world 66 The last rose of summer 259 The little while I linger here 171 The Lord is my Shepherd 263 The Lord my Shepherd is 218 The Lord my pasture shall prepare 212 The Lord to thee appealeth 200 The morning light is breaking 388, 389, 390 The morning, the bright and beautiful morning 313 The peace of God protects our hearts 200 The restless day now closeth 89 The roseate hues of early dawn 305, 307 The silent moon is risen 138 The Son of God goes forth to war 272 The Sower goeth forth to sow 460 The spacious firmament on high 212 The sun arises now 184, 189 The sun has gone down 468 The sweetest, the fairest of roses 192 The voice of the Christ-child 428 The voice that breathed o'er Eden 283 Thee will I love, my Strength, my Tower 98, 101, 229 There is a blessed power 469 There is a Fountain filled with blood 254, 255 There is a gate that stands ajar 183, 433 There is a green hill far away 305, 306, 307 There is a land of pure delight 218 There is a truth so dear to me 164 There many shall come from the East and the West 206 There's a light in the valley 443 There's a wideness in God's mercy 288 Thine agony, O Lord, is o'er 167 Thine own, O loving Saviour 170, 467 This is the day that our Father hath given 200 Thou art coming, O my Saviour 331 Thou art the way; to Thee alone 374, 375, 376 Thou camest down from heaven on high 460 Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life from heaven 145 Thou goest to Jerusalem 460 Thou hast indeed made manifest 460 Thou hidden love of God, whose height 122, 124, 229 Thou holiest Love, whom most I love 101 Thou Lord of life and death 460 Thou lovely source of true delight 247 Thou only Sovereign of my heart 247 Thou virgin-born Incarnate Word 460 Thou whose almighty Word 183, 273 Thou, whose coming seers and sages 143 Thou, whose unmeasured temple stands 367, 368 Though troubles assail us and dangers affright 251 Through the night of doubt and sorrow 325 Thy cross, O Jesus, Thou didst bear 172 Thy little ones, dear Lord, are we 194 Thy sacred Word, O Lord, of old 466 Thy scepter, Jesus, shall extend 168, 171, 467 Thy soul, O Jesus, hallow me 101 Thy way, not mine, O Lord 314 Thy Word, O Lord, like gentle dews 144 Thy works, not mine, O Christ 314 'Tis finished, so the Saviour cried 247 'Tis gone! that bright and orbed blaze 282 To realms of glory I behold 165 To us salvation now is come 54 Triumph, ye heavens 125 Unbegreiflich Gut, Wahrer Gott alleine 96 Unto the Lord of all creation 175 Upon a Life I have not lived 312 Valet will ich dir geben 62 Veni, Creator Spiritus 35 Veni, Redemptor gentium 28 Wachet auf (Wake, awake, for night is flying) 65, 66, 67, 203 Wake, awake, the night is flying 64, 65, 66, 67, 203 Watch, my soul, and pray 167 Watchman, tell us of the night 335 We all believe in one true God 51 We are going, we are going 436 We are the Lord's: His all-sufficient merit 143 We Christians should ever consider 157 We give Thee but Thine own 339 We would see Jesus 422, 423 We need not climb the heavenly steeps 381 We plow the fields and scatter 134, 137 We praise and bless Thee, gracious Lord 143 Welcome, happy morning 30, 33 Welcome, Thou Victor in the strife 118 What a city! what a glory 315 What our Father does is well 118 When all Thy mercies, O my God 212 When gathering clouds around I view 273 When God of old came down from heaven 283 When I can read my title clear 218 When I survey the wondrous cross 214, 217, 350 When in the hour of utmost need 56, 83 When Jesus comes in glory 470 When morning gilds the skies 320 When rising from the bed of death 212 When sinners see their lost condition 206 When through the torn sail 272 When vesper bells are calling 169, 466 When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean 399, 402 Where cross the crowded ways of life 452, 453 Where hast thou gleaned today 443 Where is the Friend for whom 166 Where wilt Thou go, since night draws near 465 While with ceaseless course the sun 251 Who are these in bright array 263 Who are these, like stars appearing 75 Who is there like Thee 106 Who trusts in God, a strong abode 63 Who will join the throng to heaven 194 Whosoever heareth, shout, shout the sound 443 Wie schoen leuchtet der Morgenstern 65, 66, 67, 204 Winter reigns o'er many a region 464 With gladness we hail this blessed day 200 With God and His mercy, His Spirit, and Word 182, 466 With holy joy my heart doth beat 172, 467 Withhold not, Lord, the help I crave 144 Woe unto him who says, There is no God 139

AUTHORS' AND GENERAL INDEX

Aaberg, J. C., 468f. Abney, Sir Thomas, 217. Abolition movement, 380, 381, 403. Achtliederbuch, 47, 54. Adam of St. Victor, 40. Adams, Sarah, 183, 287, 296, 297ff. Adams, Sarah Flower, 183. Addison, Joseph, 211, 212, 213, 215. A Few Godly Hymns Derived from Holy Writ, 151. Afzelius, Arvid, 169, 175. Ahnfelt, Oskar, 178ff. Ahnfelt's Songs, 179. Ainsworth, Henry, 347. Albinus, 466. Alden, John, 347. Alexander, Archbishop William, 305. Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, 19. Alexander, Cecil, 297, 304, 305ff, 311. Alexander, James W., 36. Alexandrian liturgy, 16. Alin, Svante, 183. Altenberg, Johann M., 76, 79. Ambrose, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31. America, 389, 392. American Hymnody, 345ff. American Lutheran Church, 470. American Lutheran Hymnal, 457, 465, 468, 470. American Lutheran Hymnody, 463ff. America's first woman hymnist, 353ff. American translators of Lutheran hymns, 464ff. America's greatest hymn, 383ff. Anatolius, 22. Anderson, George N., 49. Andreae, Jacob, 60. Andreae, Laurentius, 150. Anglican Hymnology, 242. Angelic hymn, 12, 13. Antichrist, Pope as, 53. Aquinas, Thomas, 40. Arians, 21, 22, 25, 26. Arminianism, 234. Arnold, Dr., 280. Arnold, Gottfried, 109. Arnold, Matthew, 217. Arrebo, Bishop A., 203. Arrhenius, Jacob, 158, 159, 467. Astrom, Johan, 169, 173, 174. Athanasius, 28. Augsburg Confession, 128. Augustana Synod Hymnal, 170, 457, 467. Augustine, 16, 27, 28, 67, 407. Bach, John S., 36, 61, 89, 117ff. Baptist Church, Greatest hymnist of, 246. Baptist Missionary Society, 264. Bardesanes, 21. Baring-Gould, Sabine, 322, 323ff. Barlow, Joel, 350. Battle Hymn of the Reformation, 42. Baxter, Lydia, 183, 433. Bay Psalmist, 348ff. Beddome, Benjamin, 247. Beecher, Henry Ward, 230, 399. Beecher, Lyman, 399. Beethoven, 120. Behm, Martin, 61, 465. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 259. Bentley, 29. Bengel, Johann A., 111, 113. Berg, Carolina V. (Sandell), 176, 177ff, 467. Bernard of Clairvaux, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 89, 320, 385, 455. Bernard of Cluny, 39, 318. Bersell, Anders O., 467. Beza, Theodore de, 94. Bickersteth, Bishop, 287. Bjork, Erik, 463. Bliss, Philip P., 440, 441ff. Borthwick sisters, 298, 307, 308, 309. Boer War, 83. Boethius, Jacob, 155. Bogatzky, Karl H. von, 106. Bohemian Brethren, 128. Bonar, Andrew, 313. Bonar, Horatius, 310, 311ff. Bourgeois, Louis, 94. Bowring, John, 332, 333ff. Boxer uprising, 335. Boye, 468. Brandenburg Margrave of, 77. Brandt, 200. Breed, Dr., 297, 375. Brentano, Clemens, 71. Brooks, Phillips, 426, 427ff. Brorson, Hans Adolph, 183, 190, 191ff, 197, 200, 468. Brown, Samuel R., 355, 356. Brown, Phoebe Hinsdale, 352. Browning, Mrs., 257. Brueckner, H., 465. Bruun, 468. Bryant, William Cullen, 366, 367ff, 383. Buchanan, Claudius, 251. Budbararen, 178. Bunyan, John, 217. Burial of Moses, 307. Burney, 131. Burns, Robert, 185, 380. Calvin, 93, 94, 209, 215. Calvinistic Methodist, 243. Cantata, Church, 117, 120. Cantus Romanus, 31. Carey, William, 104, 129, 264. Carlyle, Thomas, 50. Cary, Phoebe, 297. Carlsson, Bishop Carl, 156. Catholic League, 77. Catholic Schola Cantorum, 121. Cassel, 82. Caswall, Edward, 38, 320, 321. Cennick, John, 242. Charles II, King of England, 210. Chautauqua movement, 446. Chautauqua vesper hymn, 444, 445ff. Chelsea, 408. Chemnitz, Martin, 60. Cholera plague, 400. Christaller, 50. Christian Ballads, 408, 409. Christian Singers of Germany, 308. Christian IV, King of Denmark, 185. Christian V, King of Denmark, 185. Christian VI, King of Denmark, 192. Christian Year, The, Keble's, 279ff. Christus, Oratorio, 66. Chrysostom, 16. Civil War, 401. Claudius, Matthias, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139. Clausnitzer, Tobias, 74. Clement of Alexandria, 18, 19, 20. Collegia Pietatis, 103. Cologne, Cathedral of, 82. Conrad, Emperor, 38. Consecration poet, 327, 329. Controversial period, 59ff. Copenhagen, Bombardment of, 198. Coronation hymn, 238, 241. Cotta, Ursula, 43. Council of Constance, 45. Council of Laodicea, 23. Council of Nicaea, 21. Cowper, William, 250, 252, 253ff, 351. Cox, Samuel H., 409. Coxe, Arthur Cleveland, 406, 407ff. Creation hymn, 212. Cronenwett, Emanuel, 465f. Crosby, Fanny, 177, 297, 331, 434ff. Crosby, Fanny, of Sweden, 177ff. Cruger, Johann, 70, 85. Crull, August, 465. Crusades, 35, 38, 39. Crusaders' Hymn, 130, 131. Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, 325. Cuyler, Theodore, 266. Dach, Simon, 73. D'Aubigne, 48. Dana, Richard H., 367. David, Christian, 270. Decius, Nicolaus, 52, 56, 57, 308. Defoe, Daniel, 217. Delaware Swedes, 155, 156, 463. Diet of Augsburg, 48. Doane, George Washington, 374, 375ff. Doane, William C., 377. Doane, William H., 438. Dober, Leonard, 128. Doddridge, Philip, 220, 221ff, 351. Doving, C., 468. Doxology of the Church of Sweden, 157. Doxology, Long Meter, 209. Draus vor Schleswig, 71. Duffield, S. W., 101, 437. Duffield, George, 231, 418, 419ff. Dwight, Timothy, 346, 347ff. Dykes, John B., 272, 286. Early Christian Chants, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17. Early Christian Hymnody, 11ff. East India Company, 273. Eastern Church, 17, 21, 23. Eber, Paul, 54, 55, 56, 83. Ecce Homo, Sternberg's, 328. Edwards, Jonathan, 349, 350. Eklund, Alfred, 183. Elliott, Charlotte, 177, 274, 275ff, 297, 298. Emerson, 100. English Hymnody, 207ff. England's first woman hymnist, 245. Ephrem Syrus, 21. Erfurt Enchiridion, 47. Esch, Johannes, 46. Esling, Catherine, 297. Eusebius, 19. Evangelischer Lieder-Schatz, 144. Evers, Edvard, 183. Faber, Frederick W., 288, 289. Fabricius, 78. Falckner, Daniel, 463. Falckner, Justus, 462, 463, 464. Father of Evangelical Hymnody, 43. Father of public high school in Scandinavia, 201. Father of Swedish hymnody, 152. Fawcett, John, 247. Ferdinand III, Emperor, 90. Fess, Bishop, 239. Fields, James T., 254. Findlater, Sarah Borthwick, 125, 308, 309. First American Hymn, 346. First German Lutheran church, 463. First German Lutheran pastor, 463. First missionary hymn, 106. Formula of Concord, 50, 60, 63. Fortunatus, Venantius, 30, 32, 33. Foss, Claude W., 466f. Fox, William Johnson, 298. Franck, Johann, 74, 75. Francis I, King of France, 93. Francke, August Hermann, 103ff, 127. Francke, G. A., 105, 107, 109, 110. Franco-Prussian War, 82. Franzen, Frans M., 168, 169ff, 466f. Frederick the Great, 48, 71, 82, 113. Fredrik V, King of Denmark, 136. Freuden Spiegel, 66, 203. Freylinghausen, Johann A., 102, 105, 106, 108, 229, 464. Friedrich Wilhelm, Elector of Prussia, 86. Fritsch, Ahasuerus, 90. Fugitive slave law, 381, 403. Garve, Carl B., 144. Geijer, Erik G., 169, 172, 466. Geistliches Liederkaestlein, 112. Geistreiches Gesangbuch, 105, 464. Gellert, Christian, 136, 137. Gems by the Wayside, 433. Genevan Psalter, 94. Gerhardt, Paul, 36, 70, 84, 85ff, 93, 94, 99, 117, 136, 138, 229, 308. German hymnody, 41ff. Gerok, Karl von, 145, 146. Gettysburg, Battle of, 401. Gladden, Washington, 448, 449ff. Gluck, 120. Goethe, 136, 137, 138. Golden Age of Latin Hymnody, 35ff. Golden Age of Swedish hymnody, 169. Golden Legend, 29. Gospel hymn movement, 433, 435ff, 441ff. Gospel Magazine, 234. Gotter, 466. Grant, Sir Robert, 272, 273. Greek and Syriac hymns, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. Gregorian music, 31. Gregory Nazianzen, 22. Gregory the Great, 31. Grieg, Edvard, 193. Gruber, Franz, 133. Grundtvig, Nikolai, 183, 189, 197ff, 468. Gustavus Adolphus, 49, 73, 76, 77, 78, 79. Gustavus Vasa, 149, 150, 153. Halle Institutions, 103ff, 127, 191. Halle movement, 119, 127, 135. Hallel Series, 13. Hallelujah Chorus, 66. Handel, 66, 120. Hanser, Adolf T., 461. Harmonius, 21. Harms, Claus, 141. Hassler, Hans Leo, 36. Hastings, Thomas, 260, 261, 350ff. Havergal, Frances, 177, 297, 327ff. Haydn, 212. Haystack meeting, 389. Heber, Reginald, 268, 269ff, 390. Hedborn, Samuel J., 169, 171, 172, 467. Heermann, Johann, 69, 70, 71, 136. Heine, 48, 112. Held, Heinrich, 71, 72, 463. Herberger, Valerius, 62. Hermann, Nicholas, 56. Hernosand, Bishop of, 169. Herrnhut, 128, 129, 265. Herrnhut movement, 119. Hexaemeron, Bishop A. Arrebo's, 203. Hilary of Gaul, 25. Hiller, Philipp P., 110, 111ff, 465. Holden, Oliver, 241. Holm, 468. Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 383, 392, 395. Homburg, Ernst, 71, 72, 465. Hoppe, Anna, 182, 456, 457ff. Hopper, Edward, 414, 415ff. How, Bishop, 299, 336, 337ff. Huguenots, 94, 142. Hunt, Holman, 338, 339. Hurlburt, Jesse Lyman, 446. Huss, John, 45. Hymn of Praise, 66. Hymn to the Saviour, 29. Hymnal of the Augustana Synod, 170, 457, 467. Hymns and Sacred Poems, by John and Charles Wesley, 227. Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Watts, 125, 308. Hymns of Worship, 201. Hymn-book, Wesleyan, 225. Ichabod, 381. Ignatius, 15. Imitation of Christ, 250. Ingemann, Bernhardt S., 201, 325, 468. Inner Mission work, 453. Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen, 89. Invalid's Hymn Book, 276. Isaak, Heinrich, 89. Isadore of Seville, 25. Jacob of Misi, 45. Jacobs, 141. Jacobs, Henry Eyster, 299. Jacobus de Benedictis, 40. James II, King of England, 210. Jerome, 16. Jerusalem liturgy, 16. Jesu Hertz-Buchlein, 82. Jesus hymns, 75, 106, 311. John of Damascus, 22, 23, 317. Jonas, Justus, 47, 54, 56. Jonassen, Soren, 187. Joseph the Hymnographer, 23. Judson, Adoniram, 389. Julian, John, 217, 266. Justina, Empress, 26. Kaisermarsch, 49. Kant, Immanuel, 141. Karl XI, King of Sweden, 156. Karl XIV, King of Sweden, 162. Karl XV, King of Sweden, 179, 180. Keble, John, 278, 279ff, 305, 319. Keble of America, 409. Kempis, Thomas a, 250. Ken, Bishop Thomas, 208, 209ff, 215, 242. Key, Francis Scott, 362, 363ff, 372. King James, 242. King and Queen of Chorales, 65ff. Kingo, Thomas, 184, 185ff, 197, 199, 200, 206, 468. Kirke-Salmebog, 205. Kjellstrand, A. W., 467. Klopstock, Friedrich G., 136. Klug, Joseph, 47. Knapp, Albert, 79, 101, 136, 144, 167. Kolmodin, Israel, 155. Krauth, Charles Porterfield, 464. Kretzmann, Paul E., 465f. Kripplein Christi, 62. Krummacher, Friedrich A., 145. Lagerlof, Petrus, 15. Lalla Rookh, 260. Landstad, Magnus B., 183, 202, 203ff, 468. Lasare, 181. Lathbury, Mary, 297, 444, 445ff. Latin Hymnody, 25ff, 45, 155. Laurentii, Laurentius, 108. Laurini, M. Laurentii, 173. Lauxmann, 36. Legends of the Old Testament, 325. Leipzig, Battle of, 79. Lehmann, W. H., 470. Les Huguenots, 49. Lessing, 136, 137. Leuthen, Battle of, 82. Lind, Jenny, 179, 404. Lion of the North, 78. Lives of the Saints, 325. Livingstone, David, 302. Lobwasser, Ambrosius, 94. Longfellow, H. W., 29, 73, 161, 383. Louis, King of France, 38. Loy, Matthias, 465. Ludaemilia Elizabeth, 46. Luke, Jemima, 300, 301ff. Luersen, Sylvester, 96. Luther, Martin, 28, 29, 37, 42-51, 53-57, 65, 70, 82, 85, 104, 136, 149-151, 206, 209, 225, 228, 243, 308, 313, 403. Lutheran chorale, 120. Lutheran martyrs, 46. Luetzen, battle of, 77, 78, 79. Lyra Germanica, 308. Lyte, Henry Francis, 183, 271, 290, 291ff. Mabillon, 25. Macao, 334. Macaulay, 211, 273. Maccall, William, 174. Magdeberg, J., 63. Malan, Caesar, 277. Marriot, John, 183, 273. Martyrs, Poet of, 29. Maronite Christians, 22. Marot, Clement, 93, 94. Marseillaise of the Reformation, 48. Mason, Lowell, 271, 384, 385. Mathesius, Johannes, 56. Matheson, George, 340, 341ff. Mattes, John Caspar, 465. Maurus, Rhabanus, 35. Maximilian, Emperor, 89. McKinley, William, 299. Mearnes, James, 132. Medley, Samuel, 247. Melanchthon, Philip, 49, 55, 59, 63, 70. Mendelssohn, 48, 66. Mentzer, Johann, 114. Methodism, 225ff. Methodist Hymnal, 369, 454. Meyerbeer, 48. Meyfart, Johann, 73. Miller, Emily Huntington, 430, 431ff. Miller, Samuel M., 469. Mirror of Joy, 66, 67. Missionary bishop of America, 377. Missionary hymn, 271. Modern missionary movement, 264, 265, 389. Moffatt, Robert, 302. Mohr, Joseph, 132, 133, 183. Mohnike, 167. Moments on the Mount, 343. Montgomery, James, 129, 262, 263ff, 302. Monica, 27. Moody, Dwight, 276, 439, 441. Moore, Thomas, 258, 259ff. Moravian hymnody, 100, 114, 127ff, 144, 145. Moravian movement, 119. Moravians, 114, 124, 127ff, 228, 263, 265. Morgan, G. Campbell, 447. Morning Hymns, 201. Moule, Bishop, 256. Mozart, 89, 120. Muhlenberg, Frederick A., 371. Muhlenberg, Henry Melchior, 371. Muhlenberg, Peter, 371. Muhlenberg, William, 364, 370, 371ff. Munter, Balthasar, 136, 139. Muenster Gesangbuch, 130, 132. Mysticism, 99, 100, 124. Napoleon, 141, 145. Napoleonic wars, 141, 205. National apostasy, 281. Neale, John Mason, 23, 316, 317ff. Neander, Joachim, 92, 93ff, 183, 308. Neander's cave, 96. Nelson, Augustus, 467. Nettleton, Dr., 355. Neumann, Caspar, 90, 91. Neumark, Georg, 90. Neumeister, Erdmann, 117ff. Newman, John, 281, 284, 285ff. New Testament fragments, 14, 15. New Theology, 164, 197, 198. Newton, John, 248, 249ff, 253. Nicolai, Philipp, 49, 63, 64, 65ff, 203. Ninde, Edward S., 350, 375. Nitschmann, David, 128. North, Frank Mason, 452, 453ff. Nystrom, Per O., 169, 179, 467. Oldest Christian hymn, 18. Old Hundredth, 94. Olearius, Johannes, 71, 72. Olivet, 385. Olney Hymns, 250, 253, 254. Olson, Ernst W., 152, 466. Olsson, Olof, 467. Order of Grain of Mustard Seed, 127. Origen, 16, 19. Ortonville, 360. Our Master, 381. Oxford Movement, 281, 285, 288, 319, 320. Oxford University, 226. Palestrina, 120. Palmblaetter, 145. Palmer, Ray, 39, 255, 375, 382, 383ff. Pantaenus, 19. Parliament of Religions, 287. Passion chorale, 36. Passion music, Bach's, 120. Patriarch of American Lutheran church, 371. Paulsen, P. C., 468. Pawels, 468. Penn colony, 463. Perronet, Edward, 238, 239ff, 416. Petri, Laurentius, 149ff. Peterson, Victor O., 466f. Petri, Olavus, 148, 149ff, 466. Pfeil, Baron Christoph C. L. von, 113. Pietisten, 181. Pietistic hymnology, 75, 103ff, 111, 112, 119. Pietistic movement, 103ff, 119, 127, 135, 141, 191, 229, 265. Pietists of Sweden, 177ff. Pilgrim's Hut, 124. Pliny, 14. Pluetschau, 104, 265. Plymouth, 347. Poet of Christmas, 191, 192. Poet of Easter-tide, 185. Poet of Whitsuntide, 197. Pontoppidan, Erik, 193. Praxis Pietatis Melica, 86. Prentiss, Elizabeth, 297, 410, 411ff. Prudentius, Aurelius Clemens, 29. Priscilla, 347, 384. Psalm book, Swedish, 28, 155, 161-64, 167, 169, 173, 175, 182, 183, 433. Psalm Book for Church and Private Devotion, 201. Psalmody, 93, 209, 213, 215, 347ff. Psalms of David, Watts', 216, 245. Psalter und Harfe, 143. Puritan movement, 103, 347-350, 368, 429. Pusey, Dr., 280. Quaker poet, 378, 379ff. Queen of chorales, 65, 66, 67. Quirsfeld, Johann, 74. Raff, 49. Rambach, Johann J., 107, 108, 464. Rationalism, 135ff, 141, 163, 164, 173, 175, 197. Redner, Lewis H., 428. Reformation, Hymn-writers of, 53ff. Reformation symphony, 48. Reformed hymnody, 93, 94, 123ff, 183, 209, 215ff, 347ff. Renaissance, Spiritual, 141ff, 177, 191. Reynolds, William R., 28. Revolutionary war, 350. Richter, Christian, 109. Ringwalt, B., 61. Rinkart, Martin, 80-83, 308. Rise of Latin hymnody, 25. Rist, Johann, 90. Robinson, Dr., 320. Rohr, A. F., 469. Rosenius, Carl O., 177, 179ff, 466. Rosenroth, Christian K. von, 74. Rostock hymn-book, 56. Rothe, Johann A., 113. Runeberg, Johan Ludvig, 183. Ruskin, 339. Rudman, Andreas, 463. Rutilius, Martin, 63. Rutstrom, 467. Rygh, George, T., 468. Sacred Songs, Moore's, 260. Sandel, Andreas, 463. Sandell, Lina (See Berg). Sanden, O. T., 468. Sankey, Ira D., 441. Saxony, Duke of, 77. Scandinavian hymnody, 147ff. Schaeffer, Charles William, 464. Schaff, Philip, 36, 43. Schalling, Martin, 63. Scheffler, 98ff, 111, 229. Schenck, Heinrich, 75, 465. Schiller, Friedrich von, 88, 136. Schirmer, Michael, 90. Schleiermacher, Friedrich, 141. Schmolck, Benjamin, 116ff, 123, 308, 311. Schrader, Johan Herman, 191. Schubert, 120, 225. Schwartz, Christian, 36, 37. Schuette, Conrad H. L., 465. Scott, E. P., 240. Scott, George, 177, 180, 181. Scott, Sir Walter, 39, 269. Scott, Thomas, 251. Scriver, Christian, 108. Sears, Edmund H., 394ff. Sedan, Battle of, 82. Seelenschatz, 108, 109. Seiss, Joseph A., 132, 464. Selah Song Book, 461. Selnecker, Nicolaus, 58ff, 136, 465. Semler, Johann, 135. Severus, 29. Syriac hymns, 16, 19, 21. Shakespeare, 189. Sheffield Iris, 264. Sigismund, King of Poland, 62. Silesius, Angelus, 99. Skara, Bishopric of, 157. Smedby, O. H., 468. Smith, Samuel Francis, 388ff. Snowbound, 381. Snow King, 78. Social service, 453. Soderberg, Erik N., 156, 183, 466. Solberg, C. K., 468. Songs by the Way, 376. Songs of Tears, 70. Songs of the Church Year, 457. Spaeth, Harriet Krauth, 464. Spanish hymnist, 29. Spectator, The, 211ff. Spegel, Haqvin, 155ff, 467. Spener, Philipp J., 103. Speratus, Paul, 47, 54. Spiritual Songs, Kingo's, 185, 186. Spitta, Carl J. P., 140ff, 309. St. Louis, 428. St. Paul, Overture to, 66. St. Sabas, 23, 318. Star Spangled Banner, 363ff, 372. Stead, William T., 286. Steele, Anne, 244. Stegmann, Josua, 72, 73. Stennett, Samuel, 247, 351. Stephen the Sabaite, 23, 318, 319. Stepping Heavenward, 412. Sternberg, 127, 328. Sternhold and Hopkins, 216, 347. Stillen im Lande, 124. Stockholm massacre, 149. Strengnas, Bishop of, 149. Stowe, Calvin E., 400, 402. Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 297, 380, 398ff. Sufis, 100. Sullivan, Sir Arthur Seymour, 232. Sutherland, Allan, 231. Svebilius, Archbishop, 156. Swan song, Brorson's, 191, 193. Swan song of Gustavus Adolphus, 76. Swedberg, Jesper, 154ff. Swedberg's Psalm-book, 155, 156. Swedish Church-book, 152. Swedish Hymns or Songs, 150. Swedish Nightingale, 404. Swedish reformers, 149ff. Te Deum, Lutheran, 81. Tennyson, Alfred, 269. Tersteegen, Gerhard, 122ff, 229, 309. Tertullian, 16. Teschner, Melchior, 63. Thackeray, 270. Thanatopsis, 367. The Black Knights, 201. The Christian Year, Keble's, 279ff, 305, 319. The Eternal Goodness, 381. The Lost Chord, 324. Theodosius, 27. Theodulph of Orleans, 35. Thirty Years' War, 61, 69ff, 77, 81ff, 85, 90, 103. Thomas of Celano, 39. Tilly, 49, 73, 77. Topelius, Zacharias, 183. Toplady, Augustus, 232ff, 351, 360. Trabert, George H., 467. Tracts for the Times, 281. Trajan, 14. Trench, Archbishop, 29. Treuer Waechter Israel, 70. Turkish invasion, 53. Tyng, Dudley A., 419. Uncle Tom's Cabin, 399, 402ff. Under-Eyck, Theodore, 95, 97. Unitarian hymnal, 369. Unitarian movement, 429. Uppsala, Archbishop of, 150, 162. Uppsala, Cathedral of, 156. Uppsala, University of, 158, 161, 180. VanAlstyne, Frances Jane (See Fanny Crosby). Vasco da Gama, 334. Victoria, Queen, 314, 337. Vig, 468. Village Hymns, 355. Vincent, John H., 445, 446. Voes, Heinrich, 46. Wackernagel, 167. Wagner, 49. Wallenstein, 69, 77, 78. Wallin, Archbishop Johan Olof, 29, 160ff, 169, 172, 173, 175, 182, 183, 466ff. Walther, John, 44. Walton, Isaac, 210. Warner, Anna B., 297, 422ff. Warner, Susan, 423ff. Waterston, R. C., 368. Watts, Isaac, 213ff, 222, 225, 229, 230, 233, 245, 263, 294, 349, 350, 351, 368, 437. Wayfaring Hymns, 424. Webb, George J., 420. Webster, Daniel, 381. Weiss, 167. Weissel, George, 71, 72. Wesley, Charles, 224ff, 263, 294, 351, 415, 437. Wesley family, 221. Wesley, John, 104, 106, 114, 125, 129, 225ff, 234, 236, 239, 240, 242, 265. Wesley, Samuel, 215, 226. Wesley, Susannah, 226. Wesleyan movement, 103, 141, 177, 225ff, 241, 242, 250, 281. Westphalia, Peace of, 74, 81, 118. Western Church, 25ff. Whitefield, John, 229, 236, 239, 242, 250, 349. Whittier, John Greenleaf, 378ff, 383. Wieland, 136. Wilberforce, Prime Minister, 129. Wilhelm II, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 71, 73, 90. William III, 210. William of Orange, 210. Williams, John, 242, 243. Willis, Richard Storrs, 131. Winkworth, Catherine, 87, 298, 307, 308. Wolff, Christian, 135. Woltersdorf, Ernst G., 109, 111. Wrangel, General, 74. Wuerttemberg hymnists, 111ff. Ziegenbalg, Bartholomew, 104, 265. Zinzendorf, Count von, 100, 114, 126, 127ff, 229, 308, 328. Zwingli, 93.

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