This hymn was always welcome in the cottage meetings as well as in the larger greenwood a.s.semblies. It was written by Rev. Joseph Swain, about 1783.

Brethren, while we sojourn here Fight we must, but should not fear.

Foes we have, but we've a Friend, One who loves us to the end; Forward then with courage go; Long we shall not dwell below, Soon the joyful news will come, "Child, your Father calls, 'Come home.'"

The tune was sometimes "Pleyel's Hymn," but oftener it was sung to a melody now generally forgotten of much the same movement but slurred in peculiarly sweet and tender turns. The cadence of the last tune gave the refrain line a melting effect:

Child, your Father calls, "Come home."

Some of the spirit of this old tune (in the few hymnals where the hymn is now printed) is preserved in Geo. Kingsley's "Messiah" which accompanies the words, but the modulations are wanting.

Joseph Swain was born in Birmingham, Eng. in 1761. Bred among mechanics, he was early apprenticed to the engraver's trade, but he was a boy of poetic temperament and fond of writing verses. After the spiritual change which brought a new purpose into his life, he was baptized by Dr.

Rippon and studied for the ministry. At the age of about twenty-five, he was settled over the Baptist church in Walworth, where he remained till his death, April 16, 1796.

For more than a century his hymns have lived and been loved in all the English-speaking world. Among those still in use are--

How sweet, how heavenly is the sight,

Pilgrims we are to Canaan bound,

O Thou in whose presence my soul takes delight.

"HAPPY DAY."

O happy day that fixed my choice.

--_Doddridge_.

O how happy are they who the Saviour obey.

--_Charles Wesley_.

These were voices as sure to be heard in converts' meetings as the leader's prayer or text, the former sung inevitably to Rimbault's tune, "Happy Day," and the latter to a "Western Melody" quite as closely akin to Wesley's words.

Edward Francis Rimbault, born at Soho, Eng., June 13, 1816, was at sixteen years of age organist at the Soho Swiss Church, and became a skilled though not a prolific composer. He once received--and declined--the offer of an appointment as professor of music in Harvard College. Died of a lingering illness Sept, 26, 1876.

"COME, HOLY SPIRIT, HEAVENLY DOVE."

--_Watts_.

This was the immortal song-litany that fitted almost anywhere into every service. The Presbyterians and Congregationalists sang it in Tansur's "St. Martins," the Baptists in William Jones' "Stephens" and the Methodists in Maxim's "Turner" (which had the most music), but the hymn went about as well with one as with another.

The Rev. William Jones (1726-1800) an English rector, and Abraham Maxim of Buckfield, Me., (1773-1829) contributed quite a liberal share of the "continental" tunes popular in the latter part of the 18th century.

Maxim was eccentric, but the tradition that an unfortunate affair of the heart once drove him into the woods to make away with himself, but a bird on the roof of a logger's hut, making plaintive sounds, interrupted him, and he sat down and wrote the tune "Hallowell," on a strip of white birch bark, is more likely legendary. The following words, said to have inspired his minor tune, are still set to it in the old collections:

As on some lonely building's top The sparrow makes her moan, Far from the tents of joy and hope I sit and grieve alone.[25]

[Footnote 25: Versified by Nahum Tate from Ps. 102:7.]

Maxim was fond of the minor mode, but his minors, like "Hallowell," "New Durham," etc., are things of the past. His major chorals and fugues, such as "Portland," "Buckfield," and "Turner" had in them the spirit of healthier melody and longer life. He published at least two collections, _The Oriental Harmony_, in 1802, and _The Northern Harmony_, in 1805.

William Tansur (Tans-ur), author of "St. Martins" (1669-1783), was an organist, composer, compiler, and theoretical writer. He was born at Barnes, Surrey, Eng., (according to one account,) and died at St.

Neot's.

"COME, THOU FOUNT OF EVERY BLESSING."

This hymn of Rev. Robert Robinson was almost always heard in the tune of "Nettleton," composed by John Wyeth, about 1812. The more wavy melody of "Sicily" (or "Sicilian Hymn") sometimes carried the verses, but never with the same sympathetic unction. The sing-song movement and accent of old "Nettleton" made it the country favorite.

Robert Robinson, born in Norfolk, Eng., Sept. 27, 1735, was a poor boy, left fatherless at eight years of age, and apprenticed to a barber, but was converted by the preaching of Whitefield and studied till he obtained a good education, and was ordained to the Methodist ministry.

He is supposed to have written his well-known hymn in 1758. A certain unsteadiness of mind, however, caused him to revise his religious beliefs too often for his spiritual health or enjoyment, and after preaching as a Methodist, a Baptist, and an Independent, he finally became a Socinian. On a stage-coach journey, when a lady fellow-pa.s.senger began singing "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing," to relieve the monotony of the ride, he said to her, "Madam, I am the unhappy man who wrote that hymn many years ago; and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, if I could feel as I felt then."

Robinson died June 9, 1790.

John Wyeth was born in Cambridge, Ma.s.s., 1792, and died at Harrisburg, Pa., 1858. He was a musician and publisher, and issued a Music Book, _Wyeth's Repository of Sacred Music_.

"A POOR WAYFARING MAN OF GRIEF,"

Written by James Montgomery, Dec., 1826, was a hymn of tide and headway in George Coles' tune of "Duane St.," with a step that made every heart beat time. The four picturesque eight-line stanzas made a practical sermon in verse and song from Matt. 25:35, telling how--

A poor wayfaring man of grief Hath often crossed me on my way, Who sued so humbly for relief That I could never answer nay.

I had no power to ask his name, Whither he went or whence he came, Yet there was something in his eye That won my love, I knew not why;

--and in the second and third stanzas the narrator relates how he entertained him, and this was the sequel--

Then in a moment to my view The stranger started from disguise The token in His hand I knew; My Saviour stood before my eyes.

When once that song was started, every tongue took it up, (and it was strange if every foot did not count the measure,) and the coldest kindled with gospel warmth as the story swept on.[26]

[Footnote 26: Montgomery's poem, "The Stranger," has seven stanzas. The full dramatic effect of their connection could only be produced by a set piece.]

"WHEN FOR ETERNAL WORLDS I STEER."

It was no solitary experience for hearers in a house of prayer where the famous Elder Swan held the pulpit, to feel a climactic thrill at the sudden breaking out of the eccentric orator with this song in the very middle of his sermon--

When for eternal worlds I steer, And seas are calm and skies are clear, And faith in lively exercise, And distant hills of Canaan rise, My soul for joy then claps her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, "Vain world, adieu!"

With cheerful hope her eyes explore Each landmark on the distant sh.o.r.e, The trees of life, the pastures green, The golden streets, the crystal stream, Again for joy, she claps her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, "Vain world, adieu!"

Elder Jabez Swan was born in Stonington, Ct., Feb. 23, 1800, and died 1884. He was a tireless worker as a pastor (long in New London, Ct.,) and a still harder toiler in the field as an evangelist and as a helper eagerly called for in revivals; and, through all, he was as happy as a boy in vacation. He was unlearned in the technics of the schools, but always eloquent and armed with ready wit; unpolished, but poetical as a Hebrew prophet and as terrible in his treatment of sin. Scoffers and "hoodlums" who interrupted him in his meetings never interrupted him but once.

[Ill.u.s.tration: James Montgomery]

The more important and canonical hymnals and praise-books had no place for "Sonnet," as the bugle-like air to this hymn was called. Rev.

Jonathan Aldrich, about 1860, harmonized it in his _Sacred Lyre_, but this, and the few other old vestry and field manuals that contain it, were compiled before it became the fashion to date and authenticate hymns and tunes. In this case both are anonymous. Another (and probably earlier) tune sung to the same words is credited to "S. Arnold," and appears to have been composed about 1790.

"I'M A PILGRIM, AND I'M A STRANGER."

This hymn still lives--and is likely to live, at least in collections that print revival music. Mrs. Mary Stanley (Bunce) Dana, born in Beaufort, S.C., Feb. 15, 1810, wrote it while living in a northern state, where her husband died. By the name Dana she is known in hymnology, though she afterwards became Mrs. Shindler. The tune identified with the hymn, "I'm a Pilgrim," is untraced, save that it is said to be an "Italian Air," and that its original t.i.tle was "Buono Notte" (good night).