Part 1 — Chapter IV THE EMENDATION OF HYMNS

I. THE CHANGES IN OUR HYMNS

Early Changes.

The question of changes made in hymns by others than their writers deserves consideration. The point is not that the individual preacher is supposed to air his critical skill, but that he should understand why changes have been made by hymnal editors and better appreciate the principles involved and the literary niceties that are to be observed.

In the first compilations of hymnbooks, the rights of the authors of the individual hymns were entirely below the horizon. Many hymns were published without the names of their writers. To this day Charles Wesley’s claim to “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” as against that of his brother John, depends wholly on considerations of style and form of stanza. There is not even a well-founded tradition.

It was the adaptation of the hymn to immediate actual needs that counted, not the writer. There was no moral copyright, much less legal, to stay the hand of the mutilator.

Watts did not hesitate to incorporate in his hymns lines and even whole stanzas from the hymns of others. John Wesley had no scruples in rewriting lines and stanzas and even whole hymns already in print. Toplady’s alterations were often quite radical, as, for example, his drastic revision of Charles Wesley’s “Blow ye the trumpet, blow”[1] to suit his intensely Calvinistic views.

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The Abuse of the Editorial Revision.

Dr. Worcester, in this country, who issued several collections of psalms and hymns, chiefly by Watts, was lavish in his alterations, mostly for the worse—so much so that the New England churches revolted. Lord Selborne said of these mutilations by many hands, “There is just enough of Watts left here to remind one of Horace’s saying that ‘you may know the remains of a poet even when he is torn to pieces.’”

The needless alteration of hymns that occurred in these early days is to be greatly deplored, especially of those most widely known. “Rock of Ages” and “Jesus, Lover of My Soul” were fair targets for the editorial spear—out of the twenty-four lines of the former only eleven have escaped change. The line “When mine eyestrings break in death” was the only one peremptorily demanding a change, although a few other alterations may be accepted as slight improvements, as, for instance, “wounded” instead of “riven” side. So many people have committed this hymn with its differing lines to memory that when it is sung there is frequently the clash of these variations instead of the desirable uniformity of utterance.

The same is true of Wesley’s hymn. In spite of John Wesley’s warning against changes in the Methodist hymns—“Hymn-cobblers should not try to mend them. I really do not think they are able”—more than thirty variations occur in the first stanza of “Jesus, Lover of My Soul.”

The pity is that while uniformity is extremely desirable in these and many other hymns, it is now out of the question. The several variations have their partisan upholders.

James Montgomery spent years of his life amending and modifying the hymns of others, but asked that others should not change his verses. He insisted that if good people could not conscientiously adopt his doctrines and diction, it was a little questionable in them to impose theirs on him.

It is interesting to note that Montgomery could not “conscientiously 65 adopt the doctrine and diction” of the first verse of Cowper’s “There is a fountain filled with blood” and substituted a verse of his own of which he said, “I think my version is unexceptionable.” But hymnal editors did not find it so and unanimously repudiated it. It was regarded as “faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null.”

The Return to Originals.

This abuse of the editorial revision produced a reaction, and in the last half century, under the leadership of Dr. Louis F. Benson, a strong movement appeared among hymnal editors whose slogan was “Back to the originals!” In many cases that was not practicable, as the changes made were evident improvements, but the new tendency often proved to be a very useful one in restoring many a good original phrase in place of a much inferior alteration.

II. PRINCIPLES OF EQUITY INVOLVED IN THESE CHANGES

The Rights of the Original Writer.

There are some principles of equity that lie upon the surface. The writer of hymns has rights that must be recognized. His name should be given as its author. No name other than his own should be connected with the product of his pen. Unless there are sufficient reasons, the hymn should be given as he wrote it. If his name is given, no doctrine or experience should be interpolated. In business affairs that would be adjudged forgery in the second degree. If interpolations or changes of ideas become necessary for practical reasons, due notice should be given that the original writer is not responsible for the new ideas or the changes of phraseology. Unitarian hymnal editors have not always recognized this obligation. Our recent well-edited hymnals have been scrupulous in this particular.

The Limits of the Author’s Rights.

But there are distinct limits to the author’s rights. If the hymnal were a merely literary compilation, the liberty to make changes would not 66 be admissible. But the hymnal is not an anthology; it is a collection of hymns for a definite and practical purpose of an exalted character—to aid congregations in the worship of God and in the realization of the spiritual aims he has set before them. That purpose has the right of eminent domain. If the original hymn has faulty lines or weak verses that jeopardize its otherwise practical effectiveness, competent editors of collections of hymns for congregational use have the right to amend, or condense, and so add to its usefulness in the work of the church, in so far as it does not affect the general spirit and tenor of the original. Isaac Watts recognized this principle, saying, “Where an unpleasing word is found, he that leads the worship may substitute a better one.” Indeed, in 1737, he acknowledged that “Many a line needs the file to polish the roughness of it and many a thought wants richer language to adorn and make it shine—but I have at present neither inclination nor leisure to correct and I hope I never shall.”

III. EFFECT OF CHANGES ON QUALITY

Loss of Original Writer’s Vision.

It has been strongly urged that the emendation of hymns is dangerous to their quality; that the original writer was a better judge of both thought and phrasing than the cold critic whose very attitude prevents the high feeling that must inspire the most appealing forms of expression.

But the protest overlooks the fact that the very fervor and urge of fresh vision and its consequent emotion may prevent attention to nice details of phraseology or even to the proper balance of parts of a hymn. Furthermore, the writer with the creative urge may lack the critical faculty and fine discrimination necessary to polish up his verses after the impulse of writing has spent its force.

This being true, the editor who supplies the wanting critical attitude shows no presumption, provided his vision is clear 67 and his skill in supplying more accurate, more melodious, or more practical phraseology adds value to the hymn. Martin Madan was no hymn writer, but when he rewrote Watts’ hymn,

and gave us the noble stanza,

he not only gave it a dignified and Biblical content and form, but he rescued the hymn for the spiritual edification of coming generations.

Biblical Precedent.

There is plenty of Biblical precedent. The original compiler and editor of the Psalms, be he Asaph or Ezra, inserted a version of the eighteenth psalm differing from the original as found in the twenty-second chapter of Second Samuel. It cannot escape the most casual reader of the New Testament that its quotations from the Old Testament, whether poetical or prose, are by no means accurately reproduced. Moreover, the writers of psalm versions from Marot and Luther down to Watts did not hesitate to condense, alter, or interpolate new ideas in their transcriptions of the sacred originals. They had no sense of presumption; their minds were preoccupied with the practical ends they were trying to serve.

IV. ANALYSIS OF CHANGES MADE

It may be instructive to study more in detail the occasions for changes made in our hymns and learn the justification for 68 many of them. If some of them seem somewhat microscopic and even captious, none the less they make for exactness, for nice discrimination, and for more intelligent appreciation of the literary and spiritual values of our magnificent body of hymns.[2]

The Omission of Verses.

A very important change from the original of many hymns is the omission of some of the less valuable stanzas, or even a condensation of some of them by omitting unattractive lines.

“Oh for a thousand tongues to sing,” the fine hymn that opens all but recent Methodist hymnals, originally began, “Glory to God and praise and love,” and had eighteen stanzas. The hymn as now used consists of stanzas 7 to 12 of the original. Some hymnals omit stanza 10.

In the Trinity hymn sometimes ascribed to Charles Wesley, “Come, Thou Almighty King,” the second of the original five stanzas is always omitted:

The evident imitation of the second stanza of the British National anthem is too obvious:

In Bishop Brooks’ original of “O little town of Bethlehem,” 69 so widely known and used, the fourth stanza is omitted:

The reasons are not far to seek: the double rhyme in the third line is so forced as to be awkward; the first two lines refer to Jesus in the third person, but the next two in the second; more important still, the stanza does not make a sufficient addition to the value of the hymn to warrant the added length.

The stanza,

if retained, despite its medieval picture of our suffering Lord, would have added nothing to Watts’ noble hymn, “Alas! and did my Saviour bleed,” but rather would have hemmed the progress of its thought and feeling.

Few of the lovers of Robinson’s classic hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,” would have enjoyed singing and visualizing the omitted fourth stanza,

A stanza was omitted from a hymn by Isaac Watts by Dr. Worcester, and he was compelled by public sentiment to replace it in his next collection. Who was right—Dr. Worcester, or Watts and the church public?

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What a travesty in this stanza of Christ’s words, “I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven”!

The omission of all the older hymns regarding “the state of the unpenitent dead” in our more recent hymnals is due to their usually rather lurid expressions, going beyond those of the Scriptures, to the reaction in the church at large against the rather mechanical and heartless emphasis of the painful doctrine—not only in hymns, but in sermons as well—and also to the realization that it is not a theme fitted for singing.

What modern congregation could sing Watts’ stanza formulating the doctrine,

When we come to the hymns constructed by selecting stanzas from long poems—e.g., by John Keble or by John Greenleaf Whittier—we reach marvels of skill in selection and co-ordination that have greatly enriched English hymnody.

Reconstructing and Rewriting Faulty Hymns.

John Wesley inveighed against “hymn-cobblers,” but he was a most efficient and skillful “hymn-cobbler” himself. He deserves high commendation for his literary skill and taste in cutting the rough diamonds that passed through his editorial hands. A few instances will illustrate his success.

“Before Jehovah’s awful throne” is recognized as one of Watts’ noblest hymns of worship. But it is Wesley’s reconstruction that brought out its essential nobility.

Watts began it in rather mechanical fashion,

Wesley omitted this stanza entirely. Beginning with the second stanza,

(which shows that Watts’ inspiration had begun to rise), Wesley transformed it into a majestic expression of pure worship:

He was equally successful with Watts’ third stanza:

The first line is faulty: the accent of “infinite” is on the first syllable: Watts placed it on the second. The second line conveys no clear idea: how is clay “figured”? The third and fourth lines are bald and ordinary, lacking in poetic grace. See how deftly Wesley took Watts’ material and gave it grace and dignity:

Transforming Watts’ fourth stanza in like manner, he added a majestic fifth stanza of his own:

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completing one of the noblest hymns in the language.

Another hymn of Isaac Watts was enriched by passing through the hands of John Wesley. Besides correcting minor infelicities and curtailing its impracticable length, he rewrote the third stanza of the very popular hymn, “Come, ye that love the Lord,” transforming Watts’

into

He might have gone further and obviated the break of the sentence occurring between the third and fourth stanzas. Some hymnal editors meet the difficulty by omitting both.

Rev. Martin Madan wrote no hymns; his only claim to immortality rests on his emendations of the hymns of greater men. But he well deserves to be remembered for some of his happy improvements of important hymns. His revision of Watts’ hymn “He dies! the Heavenly Lover dies!” has already been referred to.

Madan very fortunately changed Charles Wesley’s

into the much more poetical lines:

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Minor Felicitous Changes.

No small improvement in our hymns consists of the change of individual phrases because of misplaced accents, unfortunate consonantal combinations, inept metaphors, and phrases that are secular in spirit and associations.

In Cowper’s “Jesus, where’er thy people meet,” the second line had the word “inhabitest,” difficult to sing; it was changed to “Dost dwell with those.”

In Bishop Ken’s “Evening Hymn” some bad cases of wrong accents have been corrected. “Under thy own almighty wings” now is “Beneath the shadow of thy wings,” and “Triumphing rise at the last day” is become “Rise glorious at the judgment day.”

Isaac Watts’ theory that hymns should eschew poetic grace was carried too far—into euphonic slovenliness. In “Welcome, sweet day of rest” he wrote “One day amidst the place,” ignoring the fact that “amidst” is not singable. “One day in such a place” is much more suave. In “Joy to the world! The Lord is come!” he wrote in the first line of stanza three “let sins and sorrows grow”; the excessive sibilation has been removed by using singular nouns.

In Charles Wesley’s very useful hymn, “Ye servants of God, your Master proclaim,” “The praises of Jesus” is substituted for “Our Jesus’ praises,” distributing the hissing s’s more musically. The second and third stanzas are wisely omitted; few congregations could sing, with the solemnity the rest of the hymn calls for, such lines as

Charles Wesley in his hymn, “Jesus, let thy pitying eye,” had a very realistic vision of the crucifixion and wrote “My 74 Saviour gasped, ‘Forgive!’” which for singing purposes was well emended to “prayed.” How did it escape the eagle eye of his brother John? Or did the influence of the Moravians, who were fond of these physical touches in writing of the crucifixion, affect both the Wesleys?

The “Protestant Te Deum,” “All hail the power of Jesus’ name,” has fared well—or ill, according to the point of view—at the hands of “hymn-tinkers.” Revisers have omitted

They have transformed the stanza,

into the nobler stanza,

Omitting one or two more stanzas, Dr. John Rippon has added a last stanza that puts a fitting climax to the whole hymn:

Edward Mote began his widely-used hymn, “My hope is built on nothing less,” with a “stumble on the threshold,” writing “Nor earth nor hell my soul shall move,” a very 75 unintelligent plunging in medias res. Was it Bradbury, who wrote the popular and effective tune that gave the hymn wings, that had the happy impulse to combine parts of the first and second stanzas, using the first two lines of the second stanza and the last two of the first? This gave an arresting first line and eliminated a line impossible to put on the lips of a general congregation, “Midst all the hell I feel within.”

The very familiar and useful hymn of George Heath, “My soul, be on thy guard,” is a notable example of the value of a competent editor’s emendations. In stanza three Heath wrote,

Again in the fourth stanza he wrote,

The improvement in both stanzas, as found in our hymnals, is obvious at a glance.

Even so finished a poet as the distinguished historian Milman disfigured his noble Palm Sunday hymn, “Ride on, ride on in majesty,” by such a line as “Thine humble beast pursues its road,” which Murray changed to the graceful and appealing line, “Saviour meek, pursue thy road.”

Space is wanting to exhaust the various changes in hymns that are amply justified if their most effective use is to be secured. It is sufficient to say that changes of text must increase the perspicuity, precision, propriety, and force of the hymn. Single phrases may wisely be modified if a change corrects a wrong accent, makes a line more euphonious, adds to its vividness, expressiveness, or vigor, increases its dignity, clarifies the sense, or better adapts it to public use.

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