443Watts, Isaac, may be considered the father
of English hymnody. The beginning of the
eighteenth century marks a distinct period
in the history of hymnology. The apostle
of the new departure was Dr. Isaac Watts.
He was the first to see the real need, and in
large measure he succeeded in supplying it.
(See note under No. 167.) He was born at
Southampton July 17, 1674. He was a precocious
child; learned to read almost as
soon as he could articulate, and wrote
verses when a little boy. He was firmly
attached to the principles of the Nonconformists,
for which his father had suffered
imprisonment, and was therefore compelled
to decline the advantages of the great English
universities, which at that time received
only Church of England students. He
availed himself, however, of the privilege of
attending a Dissenting academy in London,
taught by Mr. Thomas Rowe, where he applied
himself to study with uncommon diligence
and success. During his school days
it was his habit frequently to attempt poetry
both in English and in Latin, according
to the custom of the time. In this
manner he was unconsciously preparing
himself for a long, brilliant, and useful career.
In 1705 he published his first volume
of poems, Horae Lyricae, which was received
with approbation in Great Britain and
America, and gave the author, in the opinion
of the learned Dr. Johnson, an honorable
place among English poets. His
Hymns and Spiritual Songs
appeared in 1707;
Psalms,
in 1719; and
Divine Songs for Children,
in 1720. One characteristic
of Watts's hymns is majesty. He is bold,
massive, tremendous. This was not his
only style of writing; some of his hymns
are very pathetic. For example, "When I
survey the wondrous cross" and "Alas!
and did my Saviour bleed." Grandeur was
his forte, but he could be as simple as a
child and as tender as a mother. The same
hand that wrote
|
Wide as the world is thy command,
Vast as eternity thy love,
|
|
also wrote the familiar little cradle song,
|
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed.
|
|
He became pastor of an Independent
Church in London in 1702. He was so feeble
that much of the time the work of the
parish was done by an assistant, but he
held the place nominally until his death.
Dr. Watts never married. In 1713 he was
invited to the elegant and hospitable home
of Sir Thomas Abney. Years later he wrote
to Lady Huntingdon: "This day thirty
years I came hither to the house of my good friend,
Sir Thomas Abney, intending
to spend but one single week under his
friendly roof; and I have extended my visit
to exactly the length of thirty years."
He wrote many works in prose as well as
in poetry, amounting altogether to fifty-two
publications. He lived to be seventy-five
years of age, and was for many years before
his death recognized as a patriarch among
the Dissenting clergy. He died November
25, 1748. Westminster Abbey, that vast
inausoleum of England's heroes, statesmen,
poets, and saints, has been honored with a
memorial of this great, good man. Underneath
a bust of the poet the artist has
sculptured Watts sitting at a table writing,
while behind and above him an angel is
whispering heavenly thoughts. The design
is artistic and very appropriate. This
Hymnal contains fifty-three hymns by Dr. Watts.
| A broken heart, my God, my King |
266 |
| Alas! and did my Saviour bleed |
146 |
| Am I a soldier of the cross |
393 |
| Awake, our souls! away our fears |
405 |
| Before Jehovah's awful throne |
6 |
| Begin, my tongue, some heavenly |
89 |
| Behold the glories of the Lamb |
167 |
| Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove |
183 |
| Come, let us join our cheerful songs |
24 |
| Come, sound his praise abroad |
3 |
| Come, ye that love the Lord |
22 |
| Eternal Power, whose high abode |
17 |
| Father, how wide thy glory shines |
79 |
| From all that dwell below the skies |
5 |
| Give me the wings of faith to rise |
606 |
| God is the name my soul adores |
80 |
| God is the refuge of his saints |
218 |
| Great God! attend, while Zion sings |
213 |
| Hear what the voice from heaven |
588 |
| He dies, the Friend of sinners dies |
165 |
| How pleasant, how divinely fair |
215 |
| How sad our state by nature is |
268 |
| How shall the young secure their |
204 |
| I'll praise my Maker while I've |
534 |
| I'm not ashamed to own my Lord |
441 |
| Jesus shall reign where'er the sun |
631 |
| Jesus, thou everlasting King |
7 |
| Joy to the world! the Lord is come |
107 |
| Let all on earth their voices raise |
9 |
| Long have I sat beneath the sound |
281 |
| Lord, how secure and blest are they |
439 |
| Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear |
41 |
| My dear Redeemer and my Lord |
140 |
| My God, the spring of all my joys |
535 |
| My soul, repeat his praise |
94 |
| Now let the Father and the Son |
719 |
| O God, our help in ages past |
577 |
| Plunged in a gulf of dark despair |
242 |
| 444Salvation! O the joyful sound
|
287 |
| Show pity, Lord, O Lord forgive |
270 |
| Sweet is the work, my God, my King |
71 |
| The God of mercy be adored |
721 |
| The heavens declare thy glory, Lord |
202 |
| The Lord Jehovah reigns |
81 |
| There is a land of pure delight |
604 |
| Thus far the Lord hath led me on |
51 |
| Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb |
586 |
| Welcome, sweet day of rest |
64 |
| When I can read my title clear |
440 |
| When I survey the wondrous cross |
141 |
| Why do we mourn departing friends |
595 |
| Why should the children of a King |
299 |
| Why should we start and fear to die |
581 |