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Eliza Hewitt

Today in 1813 – James Chadwick Born

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Irishman James Chadwick was educated at Ushaw College, Durham, where he was ordained in 1836, and served first as a professor, and later as president of the school. In 1866, he became the Roman Catholic bishop of Hexham and Newcastle. Chadwick is known in hymnody for his translation of the traditional French song Les Anges dans Nos Campagnes, which gave us the popular carol Angels We Have Heard on High.

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o’er the plains,
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains.

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!
Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

Shepherds, why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
What the gladsome tidings be
Which inspire your heavenly song?

Graphic Sunshine

(2) Today in 1920 Eliza Hewitt Died

Eliza Edmunds Hewitt lived her entire life in the city of Philadelphia. She taught school for awhile, but developed spinal trouble and was confined to bed for many years. During that time of suffering, she devoted herself to writing, and produced an amazing collection of popular gospel songs. Many of them are still in use a century later. (Some of these were written under the pen name Lidie H. Edmunds.

After some years, her physical condition improved, and she served as Sunday School Superintendent at the Northern Home for Friendless Children, and later at the Calvin Presbyterian Church. She was also a regular contributor to Sunday School Helps. Here is just a small sampling of her songs.

Come, for All Things Are Ready
Give Me Thy Heart
In a Little While We’re Going Home
More About Jesus
My Faith Has Found a Resting Place
Since the Fullness of His Love Came In
Singing I Go
Stepping in the Light
Sunshine in My Soul
When We All Get to Heaven
Will There Be Any Stars?

The author spent six months in a body cast, as doctors worked to heal her spine. When she was finally able to take a simple walk in the park, her great joy prompted the writing of Sunshine in My Soul.

There is sunshine in my soul today,
More glorious and bright
Than glows in any earthly sky,
For Jesus is my Light.

O there’s sunshine, blessèd sunshine,
When the peaceful, happy moments roll;
When Jesus shows His smiling face,
There is sunshine in the soul.

There is music in my soul today,
A carol to my King,
And Jesus, listening, can hear
The songs I cannot sing.

Today in 1814 – Frederick Faber Born

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Frederick William Faber began his career as a Calvinist and a clergyman in the Church of England. Later in life, under the influence of John Henry Newman, he got involved in the Oxford Movement and became a Roman Catholic.

Faber was re-baptized a Catholic, and took the name of Wilfred. His followers were known as Wilfridians. He was an admirer of the hymns of John Newton and William Cowper and, though he confessed a lack of any musical ability, he tried to create some hymns that would be acceptable in his new-found religious orientation.

Where the teachings of Catholicism and Protestantism agree–and there are a number of points on which they do–Faber’s hymns have gained acceptance with the latter. My God, How Wonderful Thou Art, and There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy have found their way into many hymn books. Faith of Our Fathers did too, once some strongly Catholic lines were removed.

A touch of the Catholic influence is still evident in There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy, in the second line of the second stanza given below–“And more graces for the good.” The grace of God (His unmerited favour) is mentioned nearly 160 times in the Bible. But it is never spoken of in the plural. It is simply His abundant grace, referring to His divine enablement. As Paul puts it, “By the grace of God I am what I am” (I Cor. 15:10).

Monsignor J. D. Conway, in his book Facts of the Faith, claims that “the sacraments…are divinely established channels through which graces flow” (p. 53). He speaks of “innumerable sorts of active graces” (p. 43), and explains the Roman Catholic teaching that “the Mass…brings to us daily that fountain of all graces, the cross of Christ.” 

But we must immediately question the claim that this pattern is “divinely established.” There is nothing of this in the Word of God, which invites the believer simply to “come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may…find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). No official clergy or formal rituals need to intrude between us and the throne of God.

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice,
Which is more than liberty.

There is welcome for the sinner,
And more graces for the good;
There is mercy with the Saviour;
There is healing in His blood.

If our love were but more simple,
We should take Him at His word;
And our lives would be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.

(2) Today in 1851 – Eliza Hewitt Born

Eliza Edmunds Hewitt trained to be a school teacher, and was valedictorian of her class. But her teaching career was sidelined by a spinal condition that kept her bedridden for a long period, leaving her a semi-invalid. It’s believed that this condition may have related to something that had happened in the classroom. She was struck in the back with a heavy slate by a boy she was trying to discipline.

Even after she retired from teaching, Eliza Hewitt continued to have a strong interest in children. She served as a Sunday School superintendent for much of her life. She was a friend of Fanny Crosby’s, had a cousin who was a hymn writer (Edgar Stites, who wrote Simply Trusting), and also wrote many hymns herself.

The writer of one of our hymns, No Other Plea (My Faith Has Found a Resting Place), remained something of a mystery for years. You will sometimes see it attributed to a Lidie H. Edmunds, but nothing is known of such a person. This was later discovered to be a pen name of Eliza Edmunds Hewitt.

It is a fine song, speaking with great clarity of the basis for our salvation. We aren’t saved by joining a particular church, or by adhering to a particular creed. We are saved by the grace of God, through personal faith in Christ (Jn. 3:16; Eph. 2:8-9). As Eliza Hewitt puts it:

My faith has found a resting place,
Not in device nor creed;
I trust the ever living One,
His wounds for me shall plead.

I need no other argument,
I need no other plea,
It is enough that Jesus died,
And that He died for me.

My heart is leaning on the Word,
The written Word of God,
Salvation by my Saviour’s name,
Salvation through His blood.

Suffering Hymn Writers

It is astonishing to discover how many authors of our hymns had some disability, or wrote out of some dark experience in their lives. For example:

  • Fanny Crosby (To God Be the Glory, All the Way My Saviour Leads Me) was blind. So was John Milton (Let Us With a Gladsome Mind), and George Matheson (O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go), and William Walford (Sweet Hour of Prayer), as was Lelia Morris, later in life (What If It Were Today? Nearer, Still Nearer).
  • Annie Johnson Flint (He Giveth More Grace, God Hath Not Promised) was confined to her room with crippling arthritis most of her life. So was Lydia Baxter (Take the Name of Jesus with You).
  • Charlotte Elliot was a bedridden invalid when she wrote the great invitation hymn, “Just As I Am.” Catherine Hankey (I Love to Tell the Story, Tell Me the Old, Old Story) wrote her hymns while confined to bed to recover from a serious illness. Eliza Hewitt (More About Jesus, When We All Get to Heaven) developed a severe spinal condition and was confined to bed for a long period.
  • Frances Ridley Havergal (Take My Life and Let It Be, Who Is on the Lord’s Side?) was in poor health all her life, and she died at the age of 43. Thomas Chisholm (Great Is Thy Faithfulness) served as a pastor for a short time, but frail health forced him to resign.
  • Major Daniel Whittle (Showers of Blessing, Have You Any Room for Jesus?) was a Civil War amputee.
  • William Cowper [pronounced Cooper] (God Moves in a Mysterious Way, There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood) suffered from bouts of suicidal depression. Joseph Scriven (What a Friend We Have in Jesus) seems to have suffered from depression as well.
  • Both George Young (God Leads Us Along) and Horatio Spafford (It Is Well) wrote songs as a declaration of faith after a time of great family tragedy.
  • Luther Bridgers wrote “He Keeps Me Singing” after the death of his wife and children in a fire. Thomas Dorsey wrote “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” after his wife died giving birth to a son (who also died).

These are just a few examples of many. Even when there was not a prolonged disability, many created songs in periods of deep distress, or out of crisis circumstances. Because of such things, the poetry of their hymns grew out of the intense reality of their experience with God. No dry, dusty religiosity here. We sense in their message the ring of reality and the richness of their faith.

Perhaps we wonder how or why such beauty and blessing grows from times of suffering. There are could be many reasons. One is that those limited in some way–perhaps even bedridden–by a disability or adversity found time to explore new avenues of creativity and service for Christ. (One pastor never knew he could write hymns until he lost his voice and could no longer preach!)

Also, with their focus narrowed, their attention concentrated, they sometimes discovered deeper insights into the ways of God. They learned what it means to truly depend on God. Then, as the Lord blessed them, and blessed others through them in unique ways, they proved with the Apostle Paul what the Lord means when He says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (II Cor. 12:9).

Gold Out Of The Furnace: Suffering Saints Behind Our Hymns

It is astonishing to discover how many authors of our hymns were handicapped in some way. Here is a sampling, listing a few of the hymns they have given us.

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

Annie Johnson Flint (He Giveth More Grace, God Hath Not Promised) was confined to her room with crippling arthritis most of her life. So was Lydia Baxter (Take the Name of Jesus with You). Fanny Crosby (To God Be the Glory, All the Way My Saviour Leads Me) was blind. So was John Milton (Let Us With a Gladsome Mind), and George Matheson (O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go), and William Walford (Sweet Hour of Prayer), and, later in life, Lelia Morris (What If It Were Today? Nearer, Still Nearer).

Charlotte Elliot was a bedridden invalid when she wrote the great invitation hymn, “Just As I Am.” Catherine Hankey (I Love to Tell the Story, Tell Me the Old, Old Story) wrote her hymns while confined to bed to recover from a serious illness. Frances Ridley Havergal (Take My Life and Let It Be, Who Is on the Lord’s Side?) was in poor health all her life, and she died at the age of 43. Eliza Hewitt (More About Jesus, When We All Get to Heaven) developed a severe spinal condition and was confined to bed.

Thomas Chisholm (Great Is Thy Faithfulness) served as a pastor for a short time, but frail health forced him to resign. Major Daniel Whittle (Showers of Blessing, Have You Any Room for Jesus?) was a Civil War amputee. William Cowper [pronounced Cooper] (God Moves in a Mysterious Way, There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood) suffered from bouts of suicidal depression. Joseph Scriven (What a Friend We Have in Jesus) seems to have suffered from depression as well.

These are just a few examples. And even when there was not a prolonged disability, many created songs in periods of deep distress, or out of crisis circumstances. Whatever the case, we sense in their message the ring of reality and the richness of their faith.

Perhaps we wonder how or why such beauty and blessing grows from times of suffering. There are many reasons. One is that those limited in some way–perhaps even bedridden–by handicaps or adversity found time to explore new avenues of creativity and service for Christ. (One pastor never knew he could write hymns until he lost his voice and could no longer preach!)

Also, with their focus narrowed, their attention concentrated, they sometimes discovered deeper insights into the ways of God. They learned what it means to truly depend on God. Then, as the Lord blessed them, and blessed others through them in unique ways, they proved with the Apostle Paul what the Lord means when He says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (II Cor. 12:9).