Kitabı oku: «Hymns and Hymnwriters of Denmark», sayfa 6

Judging Brorson’s original hymns to be far superior to his translations, some have deplored that he should have spent so much of his time in transferring the work of others. And it is, no doubt, true that his original hymns are as a whole superior to his translations. But many of these are so fine that their elimination would now appear like an irreplaceable loss to Danish hymnody. The constant love with which many of them have been used for more than two hundred years should silence the claim that a translated hymn must of necessity be less valuable than an original. A considerable number of the originals of Brorson’s most favored translations have long been forgotten.

As a translator Brorson is usually quite faithful to the originals, following them as closely as the differences in language and mode of expression permit. He is not slavishly bound, however, to his text. His constant aim is to reproduce his text in a pure and idiomatic Danish. And as his own poetic skill in most cases was superior to that of the original writer, his translations are often greatly superior to their originals in poetical merit.

Although the translation of a translation of necessity presents a very unreliable yard-stick of a man’s work, the following translation of Brorson’s version of the well-known German hymn, “Ich Will Dich Lieben, Meine Starke” may at least indicate the nature of his work as a translator.

 
Thee will I love, my strength, my Treasure;
My heart in Thee finds peace and joy.
Thee will I love in fullest measure,
And in Thy cause my life employ.
Thee will I love and serve alone.
Lord, take me as Thine own.
 
 
Thee will I love, my Life Eternal,
My Guide and Shepherd on Life’s way.
Thou leadest me to pastures vernal,
And to the light of endless day.
Thee will I love, Whose blood was spilt
To cleanse my soul from guilt.
 
 
Long, long wert Thou to me a stranger,
Though Thou didst love me first of all,
I strayed afar in sin and danger
And heeded not Thy loving call
Until I found that peace of heart
Thou canst alone impart.
 
 
Lord, cast not out Thy child, returning
A wanderer, naked and forlorn.
The tempting world, I sought with yearning,
Had naught to give but grief and scorn.
In Thee alone for all its grief
My heart now finds relief.
 
 
Thee will I love and worship ever,
My Lord, my God and Brother dear!
Must every earthly tie I sever
And naught but sorrow suffer here,
Thee will I love, my Lord divine;
O Jesus, call me Thine.
 

Equally characteristic of his work is his translation of the less-known but appealing German hymn “Der Schmale Weg Ist Breit Genug zum Leben”.

 
The narrow way is wide enough to heaven
For those who walk straight-forward and with care
And take each step with watchfulness and prayer.
When we are by the Spirit driven,
The narrow way is wide enough to heaven.
 
 
The way of God is full of grace and beauty
For those who unto Him in faith have turned
And have His way with love and ardor learned.
When we accept His call and duty,
The way of God is full of grace and beauty.
 
 
The yoke of God is not too hard to carry
For those who love His blessed will and way
And shall their carnal pride in meekness slay.
When we with Him in faith will tarry,
The yoke of God is not too hard to carry.
 
 
O Jesus, help me Thy blest way to follow.
Thou knowest best my weak and fainting heart
And must not let me from Thy way depart.
I shall Thy name with praises hallow,
If Thou wilt help me Thy blest way to follow.
 

But fine as many of his translations are, Brorson’s main claim to fame must rest, of course, upon his original compositions. These are of varying merit. His Christmas hymns were followed by a number of hymns for the festivals of the church year. While some of these are excellent, others are merely rhymed meditations upon the meaning of the season and lack the freshness of his Christmas anthems. The triumphant Easter hymn given below belongs to the finest of the group.

 
Christians, who with sorrow
On this Easter morrow
Watch the Savior’s tomb,
Banish all your sadness,
On this day of gladness
Joy must vanquish gloom.
Christ this hour
With mighty power
Crushed the foe who would detain Him;
Nothing could restrain Him.
 
 
Rise, ye feeble-hearted,
Who have pined and smarted,
Vexed by sin and dread.
He has burst the prison
And with might arisen,
Jesus, Who was dead.
And His bride
For whom He died,
He from sin and death now raises;
Hail Him then with praises.
 
 
When our sins aggrieve us,
Jesus will receive us,
All our debt He paid.
We, who were transgressors
Are now blest possessors
Of His grace and aid.
When in death
He gave His breath
To the cruel foe He yielded
That we should be shielded.
 
 
Earth! where are thy wonders!
Hell! where are thy thunders!
Death, where is thy sting!
Jesus rose victorious,
Reigns in heaven glorious
As our Lord and King.
Him, the Lord,
Who did accord
Us so great a joy and favor,
We will praise forever.
 

Brorson’s other hymns are too numerous to permit a more than cursory review. Beginning with the subject of creation, he wrote a number of excellent hymns on the work and providence of God. Best known among these is the hymn given below, which is said to have so pleased the king that he chose its author to become bishop. The hymn is thought to have been written while Brorson was still at Randrup. But whether this be so or not, it is evidently inspired by the natural scenery of that locality.

 
Arise, all things that God hath made⁵
And praise His name and glory;
Great is the least His hand arrayed,
And tells a wondrous story.
 
 
Would all the kings of earth display
Their utmost pomp and power,
They could not make a leaflet stay
And grow upon a flower.
 
 
How could the wisdom I compass
To show the grace and wonder
Of but the smallest blade of grass
On which the mind would ponder.
 
 
What shall I say when I admire
The verdant meadows blooming,
And listen to the joyful choir
Of birds above them zooming.
 
 
What shall I say when I descry
Deep in the restless ocean
The myriad creatures passing by
In swift and ceaseless motion.
 
 
What shall I say when I behold
The stars in countless numbers
Display their light and charm untold
While nature sweetly slumbers.
 
 
What shall I say when I ascend
To Him Who made creation,
And see the angel host attend
His throne with adoration.
 
 
What shall I say – vain are my words
And humble my opinion!
Great is Thy wisdom, Lord of lords,
Thy glory and dominion!
 
 
Lift up your voice with one accord
Now, every tribe and nation:
Hallelujah, great is our Lord
And wondrous His creation!
 

The Pietist movement is known for its fervid glorification of the Savior, and particularly of His blood and wounds, a glorification which at times appears objectionable because of the too-familiar and realistic terms in which it is expressed. Brorson did not wholly escape the excesses of the movement in this respect, especially in his translations. In his original hymns the excesses are less apparent. However faithful he might be to the movement he possessed a wholesome restraint which, when he was not following others, caused him to moderate its most inappropriate extravagances. What can be more reverent than this beautiful tribute to the Savior:

 
Jesus, name of wondrous grace,
Fount of mercy and salvation,
First fruit of the new creation,
Weary sinners’ resting place,
Banner of the faith victorious,
Anchor of our hope and love,
Guide us in Thy footsteps glorious,
Bear us to Thy home above.
 

Or more expressive than this jubilant hymn of adoration:

 
O Thou blest Immanuel!
What exceeding joy from heaven
Hast Thou caused in me to dwell
By Thy life for sinners given.
Thou hast broke the bands at last
 
 
Which my yearning soul held fast.
In Thine arms I find relief,
Soon Thy home I shall inherit,
Sin and sorrow, death and grief
Nevermore shall vex my spirit.
For Thy word confirms the pledge
Of my lasting heritage.
 
 
Lord, my praise ascends to Thee
For these days of joy and sorrow;
They shall end in jubilee
On that blest eternal morrow
When the Sun of Paradise
Shall for me in splendor rise.
 
 
Rise in joyful faith, my soul!
Banish all thy grief and sadness.
Strong the stream of life shall roll
Through my heart with constant gladness.
Jesus, Who mine anguish bore,
Be now praised for evermore.
 

Most beautiful is also his hymn to the Lamb of God, translated by Pastor D. G. M. Bach.

 
I see Thee stand, O Lamb of God,
On Zion’s mountain peak.
But Oh the way that Thou hast trod,
So long, so hard, so bleak!
What Thou didst suffer for our woe,
No man can ever know.
 

Though Brorson made a number of excellent translations of hymns to the Spirit such as the beautiful, “Come, Rains from the Heavens, to Strengthen and Nourish the Languishing Field,” he wrote no outstanding Pentecost hymns of his own composition. It remained for Grundtvig to supply the Danish church with a wealth of unexcelled hymns on the Holy Ghost.

Aside from his Christmas hymns, Brorson’s greatest contribution to hymnody is perhaps his revival hymns, a type in which the Lutheran church is rather poor. The special message of the Pietist movement was an earnest call to awake, and Brorson repeated that call with an appealing insistence and earnestness. The word of God has been sown, but where are its fruits?

 
O Father, may Thy word prevail
Against the power of Hell!
Behold the vineyard Thou hast tilled
With thorns and thistles filled.
’Tis true, the plants are there,
But ah, how weak and rare,
How slight the power and evidence
Of word and sacraments.
 

It is, therefore, time for all Christians to awake.

 
Awaken from your idle dreaming!
Ye lukewarm Christians, now arise.
Behold, the light from heaven streaming
Proclaims the day of mercy flies.
Throw off that sinful sleep before
To you is closed the open door.
 

Many are heedless, taking no thought of the day when all shall appear before the judgment of God. Such people should arouse themselves and prepare for the rendering of their account.

 
O heart, prepare to give account
Of all thy sore transgression.
To God, of grace and love the Fount,
Make thou a full confession.
What hast thou done these many years
The Lord hath thee afforded.
Nothing but sin and earthly cares
Is in God’s book recorded.
 

He realizes that many continue in their sin because of ignorance, and with these he pleads so softly:

 
If thou but knew the life that thou are leading
In sin and shame is Satan’s tyranny,
Thou wouldest kneel and with the Lord be pleading
That He thy soul from bondage would set free.
Oh, how the Saviour would rejoice
If thou today should’st listen to His voice!
 

And the day of salvation is now at hand.

 
O, seek the Lord today,
Today He hath salvation.
Approach Him while He may
Still hear thy supplication.
Repent and seek His grace
While yet His call doth sound,
Yea turn to Him thy face
While still He may be found.
 

Orthodoxy had instilled a formal, but often spiritless faith. Pietism aimed to awaken the great mass of formal believers to a new life, a living and active faith. This is strongly expressed in the very popular hymn below.

 
The faith that Christ embraces⁶
And purifies the hearts
The faith that boldly faces
The devil’s fiery darts,
That faith is strong and must
Withstand the world’s temptation
And in all tribulation,
In Christ, the Saviour, trust.
 
 
The faith that knows no struggle
Against the power of sin,
The faith that sounds no bugle
To waken, fight and win,
That faith is dead and vain,
Its sacred name disgracing,
And impotent when facing
The devil’s mighty reign.
 
 
A Christian wears his armor
To wage the war of faith
Against the crafty charmer,
His foe in life and death.
With Jesus he must stand
Undaunted and victorious,
If he would win his glorious
Reward at God’s right hand.
 
 
It is a comfort pleasing
In our embattled life,
To feel our strength increasing
In trying days of strife.
And as our days shall be
The Lord will help accord us
And with His gifts reward us
When striving faithfully.
 
 
O Lord, my hope most fervent,
My refuge in all woe,
I will hence be Thy servant
Through all my days below.
Let come whatever may,
I will exalt Thee ever,
And ask no other favor
Than live with Thee for aye.
 

Although Brorson knew that —

 
The cost is greater than at first expected
To be in God's unbounded gifts perfected.
 

he holds that

 
It does not cost too hard a strife
To be a Christian, pure and heaven-minded, —
 

But a Christian must be steadfast and persevering, as he admonishes himself and others in the following very popular hymn. The translation is by Pastor P. C. Paulsen.

 
Stand fast, my soul, stand fast
In Christ, thy Saviour!
Lose not the war at last
By faint behaviour.
It is of no avail
That thou hast known Him
If when thy foes assail,
Thou shalt His banner fail,
And thus disown Him.
 
 
To brandish high thy sword,
With calm assurance,
And face the devil’s horde
With brave endurance,
Is meet and well begun,
And merits praising.
But from the strife to run,
When blows thy courage stun,
Is most disgracing.
 
 
Let Satan rave and rage
By hosts attended,
The war for Christ I wage
Until it’s ended.
When leaning on His arm
With firm reliance,
I need not take alarm,
To me can come no harm
From Hell’s defiance.
 
 
When Jesus’ love I see,
It me constraineth,
So that from carnal glee
My soul abstaineth.
When heaven to me is dear,
Its joys attractive,
Of hell I have no fear,
For Christ, my Lord, is near,
In battle active.
 
 
In just a little while
The strife is ended,
And I from Satan’s guile
For aye defended.
Then I, where all is well,
In heaven’s glory,
Among the saints shall dwell,
And with rejoicing tell
Salvation’s story.
 

Therefore children of God should rejoice.

 
Children of God, born again by His Spirit,
Never ye cease in His name to rejoice;
Jesus believing and saved by His merit,
Come we to Him with a jubilant voice.
 

But even a child of God must not expect to escape from the common trials and perils of life. God promises assistance but not exemption to those who love Him. In the following striking hymn, Brorson vividly pictures both the trials and the comfort of a child of God.

 
I walk in danger everywhere,⁷
The thought must never leave me,
That Satan watches to ensnare
And with his guile deceive me.
His cunning pitfalls may
Make me an easy prey
Unless I guard myself with care;
I walk in danger everywhere.
 
 
I walk through trials everywhere;
The world no help can offer.
The burdens I am called to bear
I must with patience suffer;
Though often I discern
No place where I may turn
When clouds surround me far and near;
Death walks beside me everywhere.
 
 
Death walks besides me everywhere;
Its shadows oft appall me.
I know not when the hour is here
When God from earth shall call me.
A moment’s failing breath,
And I am cold in death,
Faced with eternity fore’er;
Death walks besides me everywhere.
 
 
I walk ’mongst angels everywhere;
They are my sure defenders;
The hordes of hell in vain prepare
Against such strong contenders.
All doubts and fears must flee,
With angels guarding me;
No foe can harm me in their care;
I walk ’mongst angels everywhere.
 
 
I walk with Jesus everywhere;
His goodness never fails me.
I rest beneath His shielding care
When trouble sore assails me.
And by His footsteps led,
My path I safely tread.
Despite all ills my foes prepare:
I walk with Jesus everywhere.
 
 
I walk to heaven everywhere,
Preparing for the morrow
When God shall hear my anxious prayer
And banish all my sorrow.
Be quiet then, my soul,
Press onward to thy goal.
All carnal pleasures thou forswear,
And walk to heaven everywhere.
 

Unlike Kingo and Grundtvig, Brorson wrote no outstanding hymns on the sacraments. Pietism was in the main a revival movement and placed no special emphasis on the means of grace. And although Brorson remained a loyal son of the established church, he wrote his finest hymns on those phases of Christianity most earnestly emphasized by the movement to which he belonged. While this is only what could be expected, it indicates both his strength and limitation as a hymnwriter. He was above all the sweet singer of Pietism.

The hymns of Brorson that appeared during his lifetime were all written within the space of four years. In that brief period he composed a volume of songs that rank with the finest in the Christian church, and just as he might have been expected to produce his finest work, he discontinued his effort. The hymns of the Swan-Song– which we shall discuss later – though written for his own edification, indicate what he might have attained if he had continued to write for publication. His reason for thus putting aside the lyre, which for a little while he had played so appealingly, is unknown. Some have suggested that he wrote his hymns according to a preconceived plan, which, when completed, he felt no inclination to enlarge; others have surmised that the new and ardent duties, bestowed upon him about this time, deprived him of the leisure to write. But as Brorson himself expressed no reason for his action, no one really knows why this sweet singer of Pietism so suddenly ceased to sing.

Chapter Ten
Brorson’s SWAN-SONG

The Pietist movement, new and numerically small when the Brorsons aligned themselves with it, made such sweeping progress that within a few years it became the most powerful movement within the Danish church. And in 1739, it ascended the throne in the persons of King Christian VI and his consort, Queen Sophia Magdalene of Kulmbach, an event of great significance to the fortunes of the Brorsons.

In Denmark the king is officially the head of the church. At the time of Brorson all church appointments belonged to him, and King Christian VI, if he had so wanted, could thus have filled all vacancies with adherents of the movement in which he sincerely believed. He was, however, no fanatic. Earnestly concerned, as he no doubt was, to further the spiritual welfare of his subjects, his only desire was to supply all church positions at his disposal with good and able men. And as such the Brorsons were recommended to him by his old tutor and adviser in church affairs, John Herman Schraeder. On this recommendation, he successively invited the brothers to preach at court. Their impression upon him was so favorable that within a few years he appointed Nicolaj to become pastor of Nicolaj church in Copenhagen, one of the largest churches in the capital, Broder to become Provost of the cathedral at Ribe and, two years later, Bishop of Aalborg, and Hans Adolph to succeed his brother at Ribe and, four years later, to become bishop of that large and historically famous bishopric. Thus the brothers in a few years had been elevated from obscurity to leading positions within their church.

Contemporaries express highly different estimates of Brorson as a bishop. While praised by some, he is severely criticized by others as unfit both by ability and temperament for the high office he occupied. This last estimate now is generally held to be unjust and, to some extent at least, inspired by jealousy of his quick rise to fame and by antagonism to his pietistic views. A close examination of church records and his official correspondence proves him to have been both efficient in the administration of his office and moderate in his dealings with others. He was by all accounts an eloquent and effective speaker. Although Ribe was a small city, its large cathedral was usually crowded whenever it was known that Brorson would conduct the service. People came from far away to hear him. And his preaching at home and on his frequent visits to all parts of his large bishopric bore fruit in a signal quickening of the Christian life in many of the parishes under his charge. He was, we are told, as happy as a child when he found pastors and their people working faithfully together for the upbuilding of the kingdom. But his own zeal caused him to look for the same earnestness in others. And he was usually stern and, at times, implacable, in his judgment of neglect and slothfulness, especially in the pastors.

His private life was by all accounts exceptionally pure and simple, a true expression of his sincere faith and earnest piety. A domestic, who for many years served in his home has furnished us with a most interesting account of his home life. Brorson, she testifies, was an exceptionally kind and friendly man, always gentle and considerate in his dealing with others except when they had provoked him by some gross neglect or inattention to right and duty. He was generous to a fault toward others, but very frugal, even parsimonious in his home and in his personal habits. Only at Christmas or on other special occasion would he urge his household to spare nothing. He was a ceaseless and industrious worker, giving close personal attention to the multiple duties of his important position and office. His daily life bore eloquent witness of his sincere piety. When at home, no matter how busy, he always gathered his whole household for daily devotions. Music constituted his sole diversion. He enjoyed an evening spent in playing and singing with his family and servants. If he chanced to hear a popular song with a pleasing tune, he often adopted it to his own words, and sang it in the family circle. Many of the hymns in his Swan-Song are said to have been composed and sung in that way.

His life was rich in trials and suffering. His first wife died just as he was preparing to go to Copenhagen for his consecration as a bishop, and the loss affected him so deeply that only the pleading of his friends prevented him from resigning the office. He later married a most excellent woman, Johanne Riese, but could never forget the wife of his youth. Several of his children preceded him in death, some of them while still in their infancy, and others in the prime of their youth. His own health was always delicate and he passed through several severe illnesses from which his recovery was considered miraculous. His heaviest cross was, perhaps, the hopeless insanity of his first-born son, who throughout his life had to be confined to a locked and barred room as a hopeless and dangerous lunatic. A visitor in the bishop’s palace, it is related, once remarked: “You speak so often about sorrows and trials, Bishop Brorson, but you have your ample income and live comfortably in this fine mansion, so how can you know about these things?” Without answering, Brorson beckoned his visitor to follow him to the graveyard where he showed him the grave of his wife and several of his children, and into the palace where he showed him the sad spectacle of his insane son. Then the visitor understood that position and material comfort are no guaranty against sorrow.

A very sensitive man, Brorson was often deeply afflicted by his trials, but though cast down, he was not downcast. The words of his own beloved hymn, “Whatever I am called to bear, I must in patience suffer,” no doubt express his own attitude toward the burdens of his life. His trials engendered in him, however, an intense yearning for release, especially during his later years. The hymns of his Swan-Song are eloquent testimonies of his desire to depart and be at home with God.

With the passing years his health became progressively poorer and his weakening body less able to support the strain of his exacting office. He would listen to no plea for relaxation, however, until his decreasing strength clearly made it impossible for him to continue. Even then he refused to rest and planned to publish a series of weekly sermons that he might thus continue to speak to his people. But his strength waned so quickly that he was able to complete only one of the sermons.

On May 29, 1764, he begged a government official to complete a case before him at his earliest convenience “for I am now seventy years old, feeble, bedridden and praying for release from this unhappy world.” Only a day later, his illness took a grave turn for the worse. He sank into a stupor that lasted until dusk when he awoke and said clearly, “My Jesus is praying for me in heaven. I see it by faith and am anxious to go. Come quickly, my Lord, and take me home!” He lingered until the morning of June 3, when he passed away peacefully just as the great bells of the cathedral announced the morning service.

Several fine memorials have been raised to his memory, among them an excellent statue at the entrance to the cathedral at Ribe, and a tablet on the inside wall of the building right beside a similar remembrance of Hans Tausen, the leader of the Danish reformation and a former bishop of the diocese. But the finest memorial was raised to him by his son through the publication of Hans Adolph Brorson’s Swan-Song, a collection of hymns and songs selected from his unpublished writings.

The songs of the Swan-Song were evidently written for the poet’s own consolation and diversion. They are of very different types and merit, and a number of them might without loss have been left out of the collection. A few of them stand unexcelled, however, for beauty, sentiment and poetic excellence. There are songs of patience such as the inimitable:

 
Her vil ties, her vil bies,
Her vil bies, o svage Sind.
Vist skal du hente, kun ved at vente,
Kun ved at vente, vor Sommer ind.
Her vil ties, her vil bies,
Her vil bies, o svage Sind.
 

which one can hardly transfer to another language without marring its tender beauty. And there are songs of yearning such as the greatly favored,

 
O Holy Ghost, my spirit
With yearning longs to see
Jerusalem
That precious gem,
Where I shall soon inherit
The home prepared for me.
 
 
But O the stormy waters!
How shall I find my way
Mid hidden shoals,
Where darkness rolls,
And join thy sons and daughters
Who dwell in thee for aye.
 
 
Lord, strengthen my assurance
Of dwelling soon with Thee,
That I may brave
The threatening wave
With firm and calm endurance;
Thyself my pilot be.
 

And there is “The Great White Host”, most beloved of all Brorson’s hymns, which Dr. Ryden, a Swedish-American Hymnologist, calls the most popular Scandinavian hymn in the English language. Several English translations of this song are available. The translation presented below is from the new English hymnal of the Danish Lutheran churches in America.

 
Behold the mighty, whiterobed band⁸
Like thousand snowclad mountains stand
With waving palms
And swelling psalms
Above at God’s right hand.
These are the heroes brave that came
Through tribulation, war and flame
And in the flood
Of Jesus’ blood
Were cleansed from sin and shame.
Now with the ransomed, heavenly Throng
They praise the Lord in every tongue,
And anthems swell
Where God doth dwell
Amidst the angels’ song.
 
 
They braved the world’s contempt and might,
But see them now in glory bright
With golden crowns,
In priestly gowns
Before the throne of light.
The world oft weighed them with dismay.
And tears would flow without allay,
But there above
The Saviour’s love
Has wiped their tears away.
Theirs is henceforth the Sabbath rest,
The Paschal banquet of the blest,
Where fountains play
And Christ for aye
Is host as well as guest.
 
 
All hail to you, blest heroes, then!
A thousand fold is now your gain
That ye stood fast
Unto the last
And did your goal attain.
Ye spurned all worldly joy and fame,
And harvest now in Jesus’ name
What ye have sown
With tears unknown
Mid angels’ glad acclaim.
Lift up your voice, wave high your palm,
Compass the heavens with your psalm:
All glory be
Eternally
To God and to the Lamb.
 

Brorson’s hymns were received with immediate favor. The Rare Clenod of Faith passed through six editions before the death of its author, and a new church hymnal published in 1740 contained ninety of his hymns. Pietism swept the country and adopted Brorson as its poet. But its reign was surprisingly short. King Christian VI died in 1746, and the new king, a luxury-loving worldling, showed little interest in religion and none at all in Pietism. Under his influence the movement quickly waned. During the latter part of the eighteenth century it was overpowered by a wave of religious rationalism which engulfed the greater part of the intellectual classes and the younger clergy. The intelligentsia adopted Voltaire and Rousseau as their prophets and talked endlessly of the new age of enlightenment in which religion was to be shorn of its mysteries and people were to be delivered from the bonds of superstition.

In such an atmosphere the old hymns and, least of all, Brorson’s hymns with their mystic contemplation of the Saviour’s blood and wounds could not survive. The leading spirits in the movement demanded a new hymnal that expressed the spirit of the new age. The preparation of such a book was undertaken by a committee of popular writers, many of whom openly mocked Evangelical Christianity. Their work was published under the title The Evangelical Christian Hymnal, a peculiar name for a book which, as has been justly said, was neither Evangelical nor Christian. The compilers had eliminated many of the finest hymns of Kingo and Brorson and ruthlessly altered others so that they were irrecognizable. To compensate for this loss, a great number of “poetically perfect hymns” by newer writers – nearly all of whom have happily been forgotten – were adopted.

But while would-be leaders discarded or mutilated the old hymns and, with a zeal worthy of a better cause, sought to force their new songs upon the congregations, many of these clung tenaciously to their old hymnal and stoutly refused to accept the new. In places the controversy even developed into a singing contest, with the congregations singing the numbers from the old hymnal and the deacons from the new. And these contests were, of course, expressive of an even greater controversy than the choice of hymns. They represented the struggle between pastors, working for the spread of the new gospel, and congregations still clinging to the old. With the highest authorities actively supporting the new movement, the result of the contest was, however, a foregone conclusion. The new enlightenment triumphed, and thousands of Evangelical Christians became homeless in their own church.

During the subsequent period of triumphant Rationalism, groups of Evangelical laymen began to hold private assemblies in their own homes and to provide for their own spiritual nourishment by reading Luther’s sermons and singing the old hymns. In these assemblies Brorson’s hymns retained their favor until a new Evangelical awakening during the middle part of the nineteenth century produced a new appreciation of the old hymns and restored them to their rightful place in the worship of the church. And the songs of the Sweet Singer of Pietism have, perhaps, never enjoyed a greater favor in his church than they do today.