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Hymns

Today in 1818 – John Neale Born

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John Mason Neale is known mainly as a translator of ancient Greek and Latin hymns.

Neale’s translated hymn Christian, Dost Thou See Them, was written by Andrew of Crete in the seventh century. He also produced the carol, O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and hymns such as Come, Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain, The Day of Resurrection, Jerusalem the Golden, and Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation, from ancient texts.

For Art Thou Weary, Art Thou Languid? he took an idea from an eighth-century hymn by Stephen of Mar Saba, but almost the entire text of the hymn is Neale’s own work. (“Languid” means fainting and weak.)

Art thou weary, art thou languid,
Art thou sore distressed?
“Come to Me,” saith One, “and coming,
Be at rest.”

If I ask Him to receive me,
Will He say me nay?
Not till earth and not till heaven
Pass away.

Finding, following, keeping, struggling,
Is He sure to bless?
Saints, apostles, prophets, martyrs,
Answer, Yes!

King Wenceslas

John Neale also wrote the carol Good King Wenceslas, based on the life of a godly king from nearly a thousand years before his time. Wenceslas, who lived around 907 to 935 A.D., was Duke of Bohemia (part of the Czech Republic). Raised by his godly grandmother, he determined to rule Bohemia on Christian principles.

It was a great pleasure for Wenceslas to do all in his power to aid the poor. Long before Christmas became a time known for gift-giving, he himself developed that practice.  Sadly, Wenceslas’s twin brother was an unbeliever who plotted to return Bohemia to pagan ways. One day, he met the king, and without warning stabbed him to death. It is reported that Wenceslas sank to the ground murmuring, “Brother, may God forgive you.” He was only about thirty years old at the time.

Though Neale’s song does not give us much in the way of Bible doctrine, it tells a story of Christian charity and sacrificial giving. The moral comes in the last stanza: When we bless others with the love of Christ, we ourselves are blessed.

Good King Wenceslas looked out on the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight, gathering winter fuel.

“Hither, page, and stand by me, if you know it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?”
“Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes’ fountain.”

“Bring me food and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither,
You and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither.”
Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together,
Through the cold wind’s wild lament and the bitter weather.

“Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger,
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer.”
“Mark my footsteps, my good page, tread now in them boldly,
You shall find the winter’s rage freeze your blood less coldly.”

In his master’s steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,
You who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.

(2) Data Missing – Blessed Be the Name

This is one of those popular gospel songs I wanted to include, though we have little data concerning its origin. The words were written in the nineteenth century, by a man named William H. Clark, about whom we know nothing else. The tune seems to have been that of an old camp meeting song, worked over by hymn writers Ralph Hudson and William Kirkpatrick. Sometimes the refrain is paired with Charles Wesley’s O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing.

All praise to Him who reigns above
In majesty supreme,
Who gave His Son for man to die,
That He might man redeem!

Blessèd be the name! Blessèd be the name!
Blessèd be the name of the Lord!
Blessèd be the name! Blessèd be the name!
Blessèd be the name of the Lord!

Redeemer, Saviour, Friend of man
Once ruined by the fall,
Thou hast devised salvation’s plan,
For Thou hast died for all.

Today in 1717 – Benjamin Beddome Born

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fountain

God Is the Fountain is a hymn by Benjamin Beddome. (Originally, his first line was “Love is the fountain…” using the word love as a title for the Lord.) The hymn is perhaps better known in England than on this side of the Atlantic.

Beddome was a Calvinistic Baptist pastor, serving a church in the village of Bourton-on-the-Water for 55 years. A lovely stream flows through the centre of the town, and this may have been an inspiration for the hymn just mentioned. Pastor Beddome wrote over 800 hymns, most of them relating to his sermon on a particular Sunday, and to be sung at the close of the service.

God is the fountain whence
Ten thousand blessings flow;
To Him my life, my health, and friends,
And every good, I owe.

The comforts He affords
Are neither few nor small;
He is the source of fresh delights,
My portion and my all.

He fills my heart with joy,
My lips attunes for praise;
And to His glory I’ll devote
The remnant of my days.

(2) Today in 1825 – Albert Midlane Born

Albert Midlane has the distinction of being the only hymn writer I know of who lived his entire life on the Isle of Wight. The Isle of Wight is a scenic island in the English Channel, off the southern coast of England. Queen Victoria had her summer home there in Midlane’s day, and Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield while staying there.

Mr. Midlane was a Christian businessman who credited his Sunday School teacher with encouraging him to write poetry. He wrote over 300 hymns in his lifetime, but only one is in common use today, Revive Thy Work, O Lord, published in 1872.

Revive Thy work, O Lord,
Thy mighty arm make bare;
Speak with the voice that wakes the dead,
And make Thy people hear.

Revive Thy work, O Lord,
Create soul-thirst for Thee;
And hungering for the Bread of Life
O may our spirits be.

church of the nativity

(3) Today in 1893 – Phillips Brooks Died

Phillips Brooks had memorized around 200 hymns as a boy, and he was often heard singing them in his room at Harvard University. Later, he became an Anglican (Episcopal) pastor, and he has been called the greatest American preacher of the nineteenth century. He became known for the boldness of his evangelical sermons, calling people to faith in Christ in New England, a Unitarian stronghold at the time.

Though a lifelong bachelor, Brooks took a great interest in children. He wrote several hymns, but by far the most famous is his carol, O Little Town of Bethlehem, a reminiscence of his visit to the Holy Land in 1865, and his attendance at a service in the Church of the Nativity. A star in the floor of that church (seen here) marks the place where it is believed Christ was born.

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 dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

(4) Today in 1993 – Thomas Dorsey Died

Thomas Andrew Dorsey (the hymn writer, not the famous band leader), was a black entertainer known professionally as Georgia Tom. He had been a blues singer for years, and even written popular songs. Then, during a period of serious illness, he gave his heart and life to Christ. From that day he went on to write about four hundred gospel songs, actively serving the Lord for nearly half a century. One of his compositions in particular has remained popular ever since. The writing of it came about as follows.

In 1932, Mr. Dorsey was invited to sing at a series of revival meetings in St. Louis. He did not want to accept, as his wife was expecting their first child at any time. But she urged him to go. Then, during the first or second night of the meetings, a telegram was brought to him. It conveyed the sad news that his wife had died giving birth to a son.  Grief-stricken, Dorsey drove back home. Within a few hours, his baby son died as well. He buried them both in the same casket.

In despondency, Thomas Dorsey went to visit a friend. As they talked the musician was encouraged with the thought that whatever happened, he was in the hands of a loving God. After a while, he sat down at the piano and began to improvise the prayer-song, Precious Lord, Take My Hand.

Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light:

Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.

When my way grows drear,
Precious Lord, linger near,
When my life is almost gone,
Hear my cry, hear my call,
Hold my hand lest I fall:

Here are two interesting versions of this song. In the first, Thomas Dorsey himself tells the story of how the song came to be written, followed by a distinctive black gospel version of the song. The second is a choral version, with quite different lyrics. But the main focus is on the conductor. I include it as an example of masterful choral conducting.

NIU Chamber Choir – Precious Lord Take My Hand (YouTube)

Today in 1855 – Carrie Breck Born

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Carrie Elizabeth Ellis was born in Vermont, after which the family moved to New Jersey. She married Frank Breck, and the couple moved on to Oregon some time between 1910 and 1920. Carrie Breck and her husband had five daughters. A devoted wife and mother, she was also a committed Christian, and faithfully attended the local Presbyterian church.

In addition, Mrs. Breck wrote more than 2,000 poems. Never in robust health, she would often pause to rest as she did her housework. At such times, she would take up a notebook and write lines of verse that came to her. Quite a few of her poems have been turned into gospel songs. But the interesting thing is that Carrie Breck had no sense of pitch and could not carry a tune! Even so, the Lord gave her a sense of rhythm and rhyme, and we are blessed by her gift.

Face to Face is likely her best-known song. (For the unusual story of how the hymn tune came to be written, see Today in 1869.) Another she wrote is When Love Shines In, about the difference in outlook that comes when Christ is a part of our lives.

Jesus comes with power to gladden, when love shines in,
Every life that woe can sadden, when love shines in.
Love will teach us how to pray, love will drive the gloom away,
Turn our darkness into day, when love shines in.

When love shines in, when love shines in,
How the heart is tuned to singing, when love shines in,
When love shines in, when love shines in,
Joy and peace to others bringing, when love shines in.

(2) Today in 1903 – Norman Clayton Born

Norman John Clayton was a church organist for some 50 years. In 1942 he also joined the Word of Life organization, headed by Jack Wyrtzen. In Wyrtzen’s evangelistic rallies, Mr. Clayton served as an organist and vibraharpist, as well as heading up the counselling of those in spiritual need. He began a publishing business that produced some 30 books of gospel songs. In 1959, Clayton’s firm joined the Rodeheaver Publishing Company, where he then worked as an editor and arranger of music. Norman Clayton died in 1992.

Among the better-known of his songs are: If We Could See Beyond Today (for which Clayton supplied the tune), My Hope Is in the Lord, Now I Belong to Jesus, and We Shall See His Lovely Face.

We shall see His lovely face some bright golden morning,
When the clouds have rifted and the shades have flown;
Sorrow will be turned to joy, heartaches gone forever;
No more night, only light, when we see His face.

We shall meet to part no more, some bright golden morning,
At the gates of glory, where our loved ones stand.
Songs of vict’ry fill the skies in that hour of greeting;
Endless days, endless praise, when we see His face.

Here is a trumpet rendition of Mr. Clayton’s tune for this song. I include it as a bit of a cautionary tale for choir members and anyone on the platform. When others are ministering in music, sit still, be attentive, and look pleasant! Talking to your neighbour, giggling, scratching yourself…or whatever! will only distract. This earnest young man does a nice job, but at times it is difficult to focus on the song because of the goings on behind him.

Today in 1815 – Matthias Claudius Died

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Matthias Claudius, the son of a Lutheran pastor, was born in Reingeld, Holstein, in 1740. The family name started out as a first name! A couple of centuries before, an ancestor names Claus Paulsen decided to Latinize his name as Claudius Pauli, and his descendants adopted Claudius as their surname.

Matthias Claudius took some theological training, but then decided to change to a study of law and languages. He became a newspaper editor, and also worked as a local Commissioner of Agriculture and Manufactures, and later as a bank auditor.

The influence of free thinkers such as the German literary giant Johann Goethe led Claudius to renounce religion for a time. But when stricken with a serious illness at the age of 39, he reached out to God and returned to his father’s Lutheran faith, committing his life to Christ. His humble reliance on the Lord is reflected in his many volumes of poetry and prose.

In 1782, Matthias Claudius wrote a dramatic sketch picturing the harvest festival on a typical farm in northern Germany. As part of the presentation, the people gathered round and sang the Peasant’s Song, which began, in German, “Wir pflügen und wir streuen.” We now know it, in English translation, as the hymn, We Plow the Fields and Scatter. (For a bit more about this hymn, see the second item under Today in 1731.)

We plow the fields, and scatter the good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered by God’s almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter, the warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine, and soft refreshing rain.

All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above,
Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord
For all His love.

We thank Thee, then, O Father, for all things bright and good,
The seed time and the harvest, our life, our health, and food;
Accept the gifts we offer, for all Thy love imparts,
And what Thou most desirest, our humble, thankful hearts.

Here’s a unique little video that combines a couple of verses of this hymn with amateur farming films from about 70 years ago. (I rather wish it had given us the full hymn.)

(2) Today in 1849 – Julia Johnston Born

Julia Harriette Johnston lived most of her life in Peoria, Illinois. Her father was a Presbyterian pastor there. Julia was the superintendent of the younger children’s department of the Sunday School for over 40 years, and teacher of the infant class. She served, as well, as president of the Presbyterian Missionary Society of Peoria for 20 years (an organization founded by her mother). Miss Johnston also wrote more than 500 hymns. A few of them are still in use. Most familiar is Grace Greater Than Our Sin (see item two under Today in 1837). Another fine celebration of the gospel is found in her song He Ransomed Me, published in 1916.

There’s a sweet and blessèd story
Of the Christ who came from glory
Just to rescue me from sin and misery.
He in lovingkindness sought me,
And from and sin shame hath brought me.
Hallelujah! Jesus ransomed me.

Hallelujah, what a Saviour,
Who can take a poor lost sinner,
Lift him from the miry clay and set him free!
I will ever tell the story,
Shouting, “Glory, glory, glory!”
Hallelujah! Jesus ransomed me.

From the depth of sin and sadness
To the heights of joy and gladness
Jesus lifted me, in mercy full and free.
With His precious blood He bought me;
When I knew Him not, He sought me,
And in love divine He ransomed me.

(3) Today in 1887 – Alfred Ackley Born

Alfred Henry Ackley was the younger brother of Bentley DeForest Ackley. Both were extensively involved in creating gospel songs. But where Bentley was mainly a tunesmith, Alfred wrote the words of maybe a thousand hymns and gospel songs. He served his Presbyterian denomination in various capacities, and also compiled hymnals and songbooks for the Rodeheaver Publishing Company. Only one of Alfred Ackley’s songs remains popular today.

In 1933, he was holding a series of evangelistic meetings. After one of these, he was approached by a young Jewish student with a question: “Why should I worship a dead Jew?” In response, Alfred Ackley appealed to the certainty of his own heart. “He lives, I tell you! He is not dead, but lives here and now!…I can prove it by my own experience, as well as the testimony of countless thousands.” After sharing in this way, the musician had the privilege of leading the young man to faith in Christ. It was following that encounter that Ackley sat down at the piano and wrote both words and music for the gospel song, He Lives.

I serve a risen Saviour, He’s in the world today;
I know that He is living, whatever men may say;
I see His hand of mercy, I hear His voice of cheer,
And just the time I need Him He’s always near.

He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me
Along life’s narrow way.
He lives, He lives, salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives?
He lives within my heart.

Today in 1839 – Samuel Martin Born

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Samuel Wesley Martin was the organist at an Episcopal church in Chicago. In addition to writing a number of books on music, he has given us one gospel song, The Gospel Bells Are Ringing. It seemed an appropriate companion to Harry Bollback’s Ring the Bells, discussed below!

The gospel bells are ringing,
Over land, from sea to sea:
Blessèd news of free salvation
Do they offer you and me.
“For God so loved the world
That His only Son He gave;
Whosoe’er believeth in Him
Everlasting life shall have.”

Gospel bells, how they ring;
Over land from sea to sea;
Gospel bells freely bring
Blessèd news to you and me.

The gospel bells are joyful,
As they echo far and wide,
Bearing notes of perfect pardon,
Through a Saviour crucified.
“Good tidings of great joy
To all people do I bring,
Unto you is born a Saviour,
Who is Christ the Lord and King.”

(2) Today in 1879 – Albert Reitz Born

Albert Simpson Reitz was the son of an American Methodist pastor. For some years he travelled with evangelist Henry Ostrom as a soloist. Then, after attending Moody Bible Institute, in Chicago, he became a Baptist pastor. Reitz also authored over 100 hymns. Several of these are still found in some song and hymn books. For example, ‘Twas a Glad Day When Jesus Found Me.

I was lost in sin when Jesus found me,
But He rescued me, all glory to His name!
And the cords of worldly pleasure bound me,
Till He saved me from sin and shame.

’Twas a glad day when Jesus found me,
When His strong arms were thrown around me;
When my sins He buried in the deepest sea,
And my soul He filled with joy and victory.
’Twas a glad day, O hallelujah!
’Twas a glad day He claimed His own.
I will shout a glad hosanna in glory
When I see Him upon His throne.

Perhaps more familiar than this is Pastor Reitz’s song Teach Me to Pray. He served several churches, but at last went to Rosehill Baptist Church, in California, and pastored that congregation for 26 years. During his time there, an inspiring Day of Prayer was conducted. He reports, “From early morning, we prayed, and God definitely made His presence real to us.” The following morning, reflecting on the blessings of the day before, Pastor Reitz says he realized anew how much we have to learn about the discipline of prayer. And with that in mind he penned the words and music of his prayer hymn, based on the words of Christ’s disciples, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Lk. 11:1).

Teach me to pray, Lord, teach me to pray;
This is my heart-cry day unto day;
I long to know Thy will and Thy way;
Teach me to pray, Lord, teach me to pray.

Living in Thee, Lord, and Thou in me;
Constant abiding, this is my plea;
Grant me Thy power, boundless and free:
Power with me and power with Thee.

church bells

(2) Today in 1925 – Harry Bollback Born

Harry Bollback was a musical prodigy. At the age of 12, he gave his first piano concert. After trusting Christ as his Saviour when he was 16, he went on to many years of service for the Lord with evangelist Jack Wyrtzen and Word of Life Ministries, particularly in the area of music. But from 1950 to 1970, Mr. and Mrs. Bollback served as missionaries in Brazil.

One of Harry’s best-known songs was created as he waited at a bus station in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Bollback was on his way to visit a fellow missionary in another town. It was Christmas time, and about six in the evening. Bells were ringing everywhere to mark “the hour of Mary.” But Mr. Bollback thought to himself that it was not Mary they should be celebrating, but the coming of the Lord Jesus. In that instant a carol began to take shape in the missionary’s mind. He found a piece of paper, and scribbled out both words and music as he stood in line at the terminal. Ring the Bells has since become a popular Christmas song.

Ring the bells, ring the bells, let the whole world know,
Christ was born in Bethlehem many years ago.
Born to die that man might live, came to earth new life to give,
Born of Mary, born so low, many years ago.

Today in 1836 – Henry Gilmour Born

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Born in Ireland, Henry Lake Gilmour went to sea at the age of 16 to learn navigation. When the ship reached Philadelphia, he decided to seek his fortune in America. He became a house painter, and served during the Civil War with the 1st New Jersey Cavalry. During a battle, he was captured, and spent months in a Confederate prison. After the war, Gilmour trained as a dentist, an occupation he had for many years.

In 1869 he moved to Wenonah, New Jersey, where a Methodist church was organized, at first meeting in his home. He served the church for years as a Sunday School superintendent and choir director. He was also in great demand as a song leader in the camp meetings of the day. Gilmour wrote many gospel songs, and published more than 16 song compilations.

The most familiar song of Henry Gilmour’s today is The Haven of Rest. In it he pictures the sinner seeking a safe harbour, and he presents the Lord Jesus Himself as that harbour.

My soul in sad exile was out on life’s sea,
So burdened with sin and distressed,
Till I heard a sweet voice, saying, “Make Me your choice”;
And I entered the Haven of Rest!

I’ve anchored my soul in the Haven of Rest,
I’ll sail the wide seas no more;
The tempest may sweep o’er wild, stormy, deep,
In Jesus I’m safe evermore.

I yielded myself to His tender embrace,
In faith taking hold of the Word,
My fetters fell off, and I anchored my soul;
The “Haven of Rest” is my Lord.

The song of my soul, since the Lord made me whole,
Has been the old story so blest,
Of Jesus, who’ll save whosoever will have
A home in the Haven of Rest.

If you are unsure of the eternal safety of your own soul, listen to the simple gospel appeal of an Irish pastor, based on Henry Gilmour’s song.

(2) Data Missing – As a Volunteer

The gospel song As a Voluteer, published in the early twentieth century, is a call to action. With Paul the author summons believers to serve the Lord, and “endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ” (II Tim. 2:3). The author of the words is W. S. Brown, but I’ve been able to find out nothing more about him.

A call for loyal soldiers comes to one and all;
Soldiers for the conflict, will you heed the call?
Will you answer quickly, with a ready cheer,
Will you be enlisted as a volunteer?

A volunteer for Jesus, a soldier true!
Others have enlisted, why not you?
Jesus is the Captain, we will never fear,
Will you be enlisted as a volunteer?

Yes, Jesus calls for soldiers who are filled with pow’r,
Soldiers who will serve Him ev’ry day and hour;
He will not forsake you, He is ever near;
Will you be enlisted as a volunteer?

Today in 1826 – Mary Slade Born

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Mary Bridges Canedy Slade was a pastor’s wife who lived out her whole life in Fall River, Massachusetts, the town made famous by the 1892 Lizzie Borden murder case. Mrs. Slade had died ten years before this, but could well have known the Bordens, since the town was not that large. She was a teacher and a writer, an assistant editor of The New England Journal of Education. Mary Slade wrote a number of gospel songs, and several of them are still found in some books.

Tell It Again is based on a true incident. Years ago, a missionary visited a dying boy in a tent in a gypsy encampment, in England. Bending over him, he recited the words of John 3:16, “God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” The dying boy listened, and faintly whispered, “Nobody ever told me.”

We do not know all the circumstances of course. But what a tragedy–that there are still some who have never heard the gospel of grace. Paul asks pointedly, “How shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard?” (Rom. 10:14). Mary Slade’s hymn says:

Into the tent where a gypsy boy lay,
Dying alone at the close of the day,
News of salvation we carried; said he:
“Nobody ever has told it to me!”

Tell it again! Tell it again!
Salvation’s story repeat o’er and o’er.
Till none can say of the children of men,
“Nobody ever has told me before.”

“Did He so love me, a poor little boy?
Send unto me the good tidings of joy?
Need I not perish? My hand will He hold?
Nobody ever the story has told!”

Mary Slade also gave us Who at My Door Is Standing? (based on Rev. 3:20), and Footsteps of Jesus. In the latter, “We will follow the steps of Jesus” is the commitment required of disciples of Christ. Appropriately, some form of the word “follow” is found 88 times in the Gospels, in our English Bibles. It begins with Christ’s command, “Follow Me” (Matt. 4:19), and ends with the Lord’s rebuke of Peter when he became curious about the future of John.

Peter, seeing him, said to Jesus, “But Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If I will that he remain till I come [i.e. until My second coming], what is that to you? You follow Me.”

Jn. 21:21-22

Following the Lord, step by step, presents an image of both faith and obedience. It also reminds us that, just as physical walking involves taking one step at a time, so it is with living for Christ and serving Him.

Sweetly, Lord, have we heard Thee calling,
Come, follow Me!
And we see where Thy footprints falling
Lead us to Thee.

Footprints of Jesus,
That make the pathway glow;
We will follow the steps of Jesus
Where’er they go.

(2) Today in 1877 – George Robinson Died

George Wade Robinson was born in Ireland. He became a Congregational pastor, and also produced a couple of books of poetry. He is known in hymn history for one hymn in particular, I Am His and He Is Mine (or Loved with Everlasting Love), published in 1876. The second stanza speaks of the new perspective on all aspects of life the believer has. Missionary to India, Henry Martyn (1781-1812) put it this way:

Since I have known God in a saving manner, painting, poetry and music have had charms unknown to me before, for religion has refined my mind and made it susceptible of impressions from the sublime and beautiful.

Loved with everlasting love, led by grace that love to know;
Gracious Spirit from above, Thou hast taught me it is so!
O this full and perfect peace! O this transport all divine!
In a love which cannot cease, I am His, and He is mine.

Heav’n above is softer blue, earth around is sweeter green!
Something lives in every hue Christless eyes have never seen;
Birds with gladder songs o’erflow, flowers with deeper beauties shine,
Since I know, as now I know, I am His, and He is mine.

(3) Today in 1917 – Louisa Stead Died

It was a sunny day in the early 1880s. Louisa M. R. Stead, her husband, and their four-year-old daughter Lily, were enjoying a day at the beach on Long Island Sound. Suddenly, in the middle of their picnic lunch, they heard cries for help coming from the sparkling sea. Quickly, Mr. Stead plunged into the water to rescue a frantically struggling boy. But as sometimes happens, when he reached the boy, the terrified child pulled his rescuer under. Both of them were drowned, as Louisa and Lily looked on helplessly.

For Louisa Stead (1850-1917) the tragedy raised serious questions. Why had God taken her husband, a man so committed to serving Christ? Why had she been left alone, with a young daughter to raise? There were no specific answers–as many times there are not. But the Lord seemed to say, “Trust Me. Trust Me, even if there seems to be no logical explanation. Trust Me even if I choose not to explain.” And Louisa did. She opened the Word of God, claimed His promises, and rested in His infinite wisdom and love.

It was a time of great spiritual growth for her. She learned the truth of God’s promise, “You [Lord] will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You” (Isa. 26:3). With the peace of God flooding her soul, Louisa Stead composed the words of a simple hymn. ‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus is the only song she has given us.

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
And to take Him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
And to know, “Thus says the Lord!”

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

After she lost her husband, Mrs. Stead went with her daughter to South Africa, and later to Southern Rhodesia, serving there for 25 years as a missionary. In the words of her hymn, her testimony was, “I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee, / Precious Jesus, Saviour, Friend.” At her death, her fellow missionaries commented, “We miss her very much. But her influence goes on as our five thousand native Christians continually sing this hymn in their native language.”

Today in 1807 – Anne Bronte Born

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Anne Bronte

Anne Bronte is one of the Bronte sisters, with Charlotte and Emily, a great literary family of eighteenth-century England. In spite of their writing careers being severely shortened by ill health, their novels are now considered classics of English literature, especially Jane Eyre (by Charlotte), and Wuthering Heights (by Emily). Anne Bronte is best known for her story The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which some have called the first feminist novel.

Anne Bronte might not be considered a hymn writer, but her poem Eternal Power of Earth and Air is a moving appeal to God for an increase of faith. The poem, worthy of a place in our hymnals, can be sung to the hymn tune Truro. It says in part:

Eternal Power, of earth and air!
Unseen, yet seen in all around,
Remote, but dwelling everywhere,
Though silent, heard in every sound.

If e’er Thine ear in mercy bent,
When wretched mortals cried to Thee,
And if, indeed, Thy Son was sent,
To save lost sinners such as me:

Then hear me now, while, kneeling here,
I lift to Thee my heart and eye,
And all my soul ascends in prayer,
Oh, give me, give me faith! I cry.

Without some glimmering in my heart,
I could not raise this fervent prayer;
But, oh! a stronger light impart,
And in Thy mercy fix it there.

Oh, help me, God! For Thou alone
Canst my distracted soul relieve;
Forsake it not: it is Thine own,
Though weak, yet longing to believe.

If I believe that Jesus died,
And, waking, rose to reign above;
Then surely sorrow, sin, and pride,
Must yield to peace, and hope, and love.

Hardly less perceptive and beautiful is her Music on Christmas Morn (which can be sung to the tune Pater Omnium). Those of us who have a special affection for Christmas carols will be able to identify with her theme. Here is part of the song:

Music I love–but ne’er a strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine;
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.

To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of heaven below;
The powers of darkness to dispel,
And rescue earth from death and hell.

While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.

With them, I celebrate His birth;
Glory to God, in highest heaven,
Good will to men, and peace on earth,
To us a Saviour King is given;
Our God is come to claim His own,
And Satan’s power is overthrown!

hourglass

(2) Today in 1892 – The Sands of Time sung

Anne Ross Cousin’s beautiful hymn The Sands of Time Are Sinking was the favourite of evangelist Dwight L. Moody. And in 1892 it was also sung at the bedside of Charles Spurgeon shortly before he died.

Based on the writings of Scottish clergyman Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661), Mrs. Cousin’s song may also hold the distinction of being the longest hymn in the English language. The original was 152 lines long, though most hymn books use only 32 lines. The language is passionate, representing an earnest longing for our heavenly home, mostly because the Lord Jesus Christ is there.

The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for—the fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;
I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.
Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.

Today in 1785 – Samuel Ecking Died

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Today we’ll take a quick look at several songs by more obscure hymn writers.

Samuel Ecking was a Baptist believer born in 1757 at Shrewsbury, England. He contributed hymns to the Gospel Magazine, under the odd signature “S. E-k-g.” His hymn Peace, Troubled Soul is still found in some books.

Peace, troubled soul, thou need’st not fear;
Thy great Provider still is near;
Who fed thee last, will feed thee still:
Be calm, and sink into His will.

The Lord, who built the earth and sky,
In mercy stoops to hear thy cry;
His promise all may freely claim;
Ask and receive in Jesus’ Name.

(2) Data Missing – Keep on Believing

Occasionally I want to include songs for which dates are lacking–or other information. For a time it seemed to me there was some confusion as to the authorship of the song Keep on Believing. A Salvation Army publication (Salvation Army Songs of Faith) credits the lyrics to Lucy Booth-Hellberg. But the only hymnal I have seen that includes it is Living Hymns, edited by Alfred Smith. He credits the words to “M.D.” and the tune to “L.M.B.”–noting also that he has edited the text and arranged to tune.

I contacted Smith’s son, but he could shed no more light on the origin of the hymn. However, a correspondent passed on the following information to me, which seems to clear up the mystery. “L.M.B” is Lucy Milward Booth (1868-1953), the daughter of William and Catherine Booth, who wrote the song when she was 17 (in 1885, before she married Mr. Hellberg). Though the message of the song was her own, she was assisted somewhat with the rhyming by “M.D.”–Mildred Duff–who later became a Commissioner in the Salvation Army.

I include a bit of the song here because it seems to fit the theme of Peace Troubled Soul above, and it is very honest about the struggles through which we sometimes go. At such times, our emotions may mislead us. God’s care doesn’t waver according to our feelings of the moment. “If our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things” (I Jn. 3:20).

When you feel weakest, dangers surround,
Subtle temptations, troubles abound;
Nothings seems hopeful, nothing seems glad,
All is despairing, often times sad.

Keep on believing, Jesus is near,
Keep on believing, there’s nothing to fear;
Keep on believing, this is the way,
Faith in the night as well as the day.

If all were easy, if all were bright,
Where would the cross be? and where the fight?
But in the testings God gives to you,
Chances for proving what He can do.

(3) Today in 1893 – Isaiah Baltzell Died

Isaiah Baltzell was born near Frederick City, Maryland, in 1832. He published a number of books of sacred song, and wrote some himself, sometimes contributing the music, other times authoring both words and music. He was partnered, in this endeavour, with editor and songwriter Edmund Lorenz. Of interest is his song The Missionary’s Farewell, to be sung on the occasion indicated by the title.

The second-to-last line of the lyric suggests that the song may have been first applied to a missionary heading to Africa. However, with a bit of creative adjustment, the name of another country could be substituted.

Far away, beyond the sea,
Where the fields are bright and fair,
There’s a call, a plaintive plea;
I must hasten to be there.

Let me go, I cannot stay,
’Tis the Master calling me;
Let me go, I must obey;
Native land, farewell to thee.

Hark! I hear the Master say,
“Up, ye reapers! why so slow?”
To the vineyard far away,
Earthly kindred, let me go.

Bear me on, thou restless sea,
Let the winds the canvas swell;
Afric’s shore I long to see,
Native land, farewell, farewell.

4) Today in 1940 – William Hewlett Died

William Henry Hewlett was a composer, organist, and choral conductor, who has a number of connections with my own family. For many years, he was the organist of the Centenary United Church, in Hamilton, Ontario, where I was born. Each Saturday afternoon, for twenty-five years, he gave a recital on the church’s great Casavant pipe organ. I heard my parents speak of him, and believe they attended some of those concerts.

Mr. Hewlett was also one of the founders of the Mendelssohn Oratorio Choir, in Toronto, and was its first accompanist. He was on the editorial committee of The Hymnary, the hymn book of the United Church of Canada, produced in 1930. Check out his tune Somerset, for John Newton’s hymn, Dear Shepherd of Thy People, Hear.

Dear Shepherd of Thy people, hear;
Thy presence now display;
As Thou hast given a place for prayer,
So give us hearts to pray.

William Hewlett died six months before I was born, and is buried in Hamilton, in the same cemetery as my father and mother.

Today in 1841 – Sarah Doudney Born

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English author Sarah Doudney was known in her own time for several works of fiction, and for articles and poems published in various magazines. She wrote a number of hymns as well. Published in 1871, The Master Has Come makes use of the tune of the old ballad The Ash Grove. It is one of those extremely singable melodies, the kind you find yourself humming for hours after you hear it.

The Master hath come, and He calls us to follow
The track of the footprints He leaves on our way;
Far over the mountain and through the deep hollow,
The path leads us on to the mansions of day:
The Master hath called us, the children who fear Him,
Who march ’neath Christ’s banner, His own little band;
We love Him and seek Him, we long to be near Him,
And rest in the light of His beautiful land.

The Master hath called us; the road may be dreary
And dangers and sorrows are strewn on the track;
But God’s Holy Spirit shall comfort the weary;
We follow the Saviour and cannot turn back;
The Master hath called us, though doubt and temptation
May compass our journey, we cheerfully sing:
“Press onward, look upward,” through much tribulation;
The children of Zion must follow the King.

Sarah Doudney also wrote The Christian’s Goodnight, a moving funeral hymn for which Ira Sankey wrote the tune. The latter sang it at the funeral of Charles Haddon Spurgeon.

Sleep on, belovèd, sleep, and take thy rest;
Lay down thy head upon the Saviour’s breast;
We love thee well, but Jesus loves thee best—
Good night! Good night! Good night!

Only “Good night,” belovèd—not “farewell!”
A little while, and all His saints shall dwell
In hallowed unison indivisible—
Good night! Good night! Good night!

Until we meet again before His throne,
Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own,
Until we know even as we are known—
Good night! Good night! Good night!

(2) Today in 1985 – Lance Latham Died

I met Lance Latham around 1980, when he was in his mid-eighties. He was still vital and energetic, even in old age, and a marvel at the piano. Meeting him and listening to him I felt a bit like a young Timothy at the feet of an aged Paul. I count our brief encounter as a privilege and a special blessing.

Lance Brenton Latham was a child prodigy. No doubt about it. At the age of thirteen he took the entrance exams for the University of Pennsylvania and achieved the highest scores on record at that time. But his unusual gifts were demonstrated long before that.

His father was a Presbyterian clergyman named Abraham Lathem (they later changed the spelling of the last name). And Rev. Lathem was a strict disciplinarian, demanding a high academic standard of his son. As a little boy, Lance would rise at 4:55 a.m. to begin reciting his daily lessons five minutes later. Saturday mornings, from six o’clock till noon, he reviewed the entire week’s work with his father.

At the age of five, Lance could recite the 107 questions and answers of The Shorter Catechism. And each day, he was also required to memorize two verses of Scripture, studying them until they could be recited perfectly. The scope of his accomplishments in this respect is indicated by a book awarded him by Abraham Lathem when Lance was six years old. On the flyleaf are these words: “This book is presented to you for having memorized and recited correctly the Gospel by St. John, the Epistle to the Romans, the Epistle of James, each entire on one occasion”!

But for all this, there was something still missing in Lance’s spiritual makeup. His mastery of Scripture, and of Bible doctrine was an intellectual wonder, but Lance Latham had never come as a sinner to the cross and personally put his faith in Christ. He was not born again. All that changed when he was engaged as a pianist for a prominent evangelist of the day. Night after night, the young man heard the gospel, and finally, on September 18th, 1915, when he was 21 years of age, Lance Latham put his faith in the Saviour.

Through his later ministry, the Awana Youth Association was founded. Not surprisingly, the week-day club program puts an emphasis on Bible memorizaton (A-w-a-n-a stands for “approved workmen are not ashamed,” from II Tim. 2:15.) Having been the Commander of Awana Clubs in two different churches, I can personally testify to the way in which the Lord uses the ministry to transform the lives of children and young people, and of whole families.

Lance Latham has also made a mark, though a less significant one, in the area of sacred music. The boy’s mother was his first piano teacher. By the age of five he could play any hymn in the hymnal, and he was the regular pianist of the Primary Department of the Sunday School. By the age of twelve, his dazzling renditions of Bach, Beethoven and Liszt were enjoyed by his friends. He has found his way into many of our hymn books by writing the tune for Avis Christiansen’s gospel song, Blessed Calvary. (To learn a bit more about Mrs. Christiansen, see Today in 1895.)

I look at the cross upon Calvary,
And oh, what a wonder divine,
To think of the wealth it holds for me—
The riches of heaven are mine.

Blessèd Calvary! Precious Calvary!
’Neath thy shadow I’ll ever abide.
Blessèd Calvary! Precious Calvary!
’Twas there Jesus suffered and died.

And after this all-too-brief review of some of Mr. Latham’s accomplishments, let me leave him the last word. The comment on the value of having children memorize the great hymns of the faith still has resonance, though the words were written a generation ago.

Boys and girls should be encouraged to learn and sing hymns….“Speaking to yourselves in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart” is such a vital part in the growth of young believers. We do not include in this recommendation most of the modern folk song-hymns which have very little spiritual truth and are consequently of no value. Some will argue, “But the young folks love to sing these songs.” We are responsible to train them another way than the ways of the world. They are not our leaders; we are their leaders.

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