The Story of the Hymns and Tunes Part 40

was invariably old "Kentucky," by Jeremiah Ingalls. Sung as a solo by a sweet and spirited voice, it slightly resembled "Golden Hill," but oftener its halting bars invited a more drawling style of execution unworthy of a hymn that merits a tune like "St. Thomas."

Old "Kentucky" was not field music.

"CHRISTIANS, IF YOUR HEARTS ARE WARM."

Elder John Leland, born in Grafton, Ma.s.s., 1754, was not only a strenuous personality in the Baptist denomination, but was well known everywhere in New England, and, in fact, his preaching trip to Was.h.i.+ngton (1801) with the "Ches.h.i.+re Cheese" made his fame national. He is spoken of as "the minister who wrote his own hymns"--a peculiarity in which he imitated Watts and Doddridge. When some natural shrinking was manifest in converts of his winter revivals, under his rigid rule of immediate baptism, he wrote this hymn to fortify them:

Christians, if your hearts are warm, Ice and cold can do no harm; If by Jesus you are prized Rise, believe and be baptized.

He found use for the hymn, too, in rallying church-members who staid away from his meetings in bad weather. The "poetry" expressed what he wanted to say--which, in his view, was sufficient apology for it. It was sung in revival meetings like others that he wrote, and a few hymnbooks now long obsolete contained it; but of Leland's hymns only one survives.

Gray-headed men and women remember being sung to sleep by their mothers with that old-fas.h.i.+oned evening song to Amzi Chapin's[23] tune--

The day is past and gone, The evening shades appear, O may we all remember well The night of death draws near;

--and with all its solemnity and other-worldness it is dear to recollection, and its five stanzas are lovingly hunted up in the few hymnals where it is found. Bradbury's "Braden," (_Baptist Praise Book_, 1873,) is one of its tunes.

[Footnote 23: Amzi Chapin has left, apparently, nothing more than the record of his birth, March 2, 1768, and the memory of his tune. It appeared as early as 1805.]

Elder Leland was a remarkable revival preacher, and his prayers--as was said of Elder Jabez Swan's fifty or sixty years later--"brought heaven and earth together." He traveled through the Eastern States as an evangelist, and spent a season in Virginia in the same work. In 1801 he revisited that region on a curious errand. The farmers of Ches.h.i.+re, Ma.s.s., where Leland was then a settled pastor, conceived the plan of sending "the biggest cheese in America" to President Jefferson, and Leland (who was a good democrat) offered to go to Was.h.i.+ngton on an ox-team with it, and "preach all the way"--which he actually did.

The cheese weighed 1450 lbs.

Elder Leland died in North Adams, Ma.s.s., Jan. 14, 1844. Another of his hymns, which deserved to live with his "Evening Song," seemed to be answered in the brightness of his death-bed hope:

O when shall I see Jesus And reign with Him above, And from that flowing fountain Drink everlasting love?

"AWAKE, MY SOUL, TO JOYFUL LAYS."

This glad hymn of Samuel Medley is his thanksgiving song, written soon after his conversion. In the places of rural wors.h.i.+p no lay of Christian praise and grat.i.tude was ever more heartily sung than this at the testimony meetings.

Awake, my soul, to joyful lays, And sing thy great Redeemer's praise; He justly claims a song from me: His loving-kindness, oh, how free!

Loving-kindness, loving-kindness, His loving-kindness, oh, how free!

_THE TUNE,_

With its queer curvet in every second line, had no other name than "Loving-Kindness," and was probably a camp-meeting melody in use for some time before its publication. It is found in _Leavitt's Christian Lyre_ as early as 1830. The name "William Caldwell" is all that is known of its composer, though he is supposed to have lived in Tennessee.

"THE LORD INTO HIS GARDEN COMES."

Was a common old-time piece sure to be heard at every religious rally, and every one present, saint and sinner, had it by heart, or at least the chorus of it--

Amen, amen, my soul replies, I'm bound to meet you in the skies, And claim my mansion there, etc.

The anonymous[24] "Garden Hymn, as old, at least, as 1800," has nearly pa.s.sed out of reach, except by the long arm of the antiquary; but it served its generation.

[Footnote 24: A "Rev." Mr. Campbell, author of "The Glorious Light of Zion," "There is a Holy City," and "There is a Land of Pleasure," has been sometimes credited with the origin of the Garden Hymn.]

Its vigorous tune is credited to Jeremiah Ingalls (1764-1838).

The Lord into His garden comes; The spices yield a rich perfume, The lilies grow and thrive, The lilies grow and thrive.

Refres.h.i.+ng showers of grace divine From Jesus flow to every vine, Which makes the dead revive, Which makes the dead revive.

"THE CHARIOT! THE CHARIOT!"

Henry Hart Milman, generally known as Dean Milman, was born in 1791, and was educated at Oxford. In 1821 he was installed as university professor of poetry at Oxford, and it was while filling this position that he wrote this celebrated hymn, under the t.i.tle of "The Last Day." It is not only a hymn, but a poem--a sublime ode that recalls, in a different movement, the tones of the "Dies Irae."

Dean Milman (of St Paul's), besides his many striking poems and learned historical works, wrote at least twelve hymns, among which are--

Ride on, ride on in majesty,

O help us Lord; each hour of need Thy heavenly succor give,

When our heads are bowed with woe,

--which last may have been written soon after he laid three of his children in one grave, in the north aisle of Westminster Abbey. He lived a laborious and useful life of seventy-seven years, dying Sept.

24, 1868.

There were times in the old revivals when the silver clarion of the "Chariot Hymn" must needs replace the ruder blast of Occ.u.m in old "Ganges" and sinners unmoved by the invisible G.o.d of h.o.r.eb be made to behold Him--in a vision of the "Last Day."

The Chariot! the Chariot! its wheels roll in fire When the Lord cometh down in the pomp of His ire, Lo, self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud, And the heavens with the burden of G.o.dhead are bowed.

The Judgment! the Judgment! the thrones are all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met; There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on His word.

The name "Williams" or "J. Williams" is attached to various editions of the trumpet-like tune, but so far no guide book gives us location, date or sketch of the composer.

"COME, MY BRETHREN."

Another of the "unstudied" revival hymns of invitation.

Come, my brethren, let us try For a little season Every burden to lay by, Come and let us reason.

What is this that casts you down.

What is this that grieves you?

Speak and let your wants be known; Speaking may relieve you.

This colloquial rhyme was apt to be started by some good brother or sister in one of the chilly pauses of a prayer-meeting. The air (there was never anything more to it) with a range of only a fifth, slurred the last syllable of every second line, giving the quaint effect of a bent note, and altogether the music was as homely as the verse. Both are anonymous. But the little chant sometimes served its purpose wonderfully well.

"BRETHREN, WHILE WE SOJOURN HERE."