The Story of Our Hymns Part 44

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 h.e.l.l 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 Was.h.i.+ngton Doane, 1824.

THE LYRICS OF BISHOP DOANE

Critics will forever disagree on the subject of the relative merits of great hymns. Bishop George Was.h.i.+ngton 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 pa.s.sage 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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, Ma.s.s., 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 ent.i.tled "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 inst.i.tution.

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 s.h.i.+ning 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 pa.s.sage 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 leaders.h.i.+p. 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, Ma.s.s., 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 suns.h.i.+ne 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 G.o.d in the beautiful poem, "Seed-Time and Harvest." His duty, as he saw it, was to sow the seed; G.o.d 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 "s...o...b..und."