Another hymn— O' Llefara! addfwyn Jesu, Speak, O speak, thou gentle Jesus, -recalls the well-known verse of Newton, "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds." Like many of Williams' hymns, it was prompted by occasion. Some converts suffered for lack of a "clear experience," and complained to him. They were like the disciples in the ship, "It was dark, and Jesus had not yet come unto them." The poetpreacher immediately made this hymn-prayer for all souls similarly tried. Edward Griffiths translates it thus: Speak, I pray Thee, gentle Jesus, O how passing sweet Thy words, Tell me Thou art mine, O Saviour Still my doubting, calm my fear. Besides his Welsh hymns, published in the first and in the second and larger editions of his Hallelujah, and in two or three other collections, William Williams wrote and published two books of English hymns,* the Hosanna (1759) and the Gloria (1772). He fills so large a space in the hymnology and religious history of Wales that he will necessarily reappear in other pages of this chapter. From the days of the early religious awakenings under the 16th century preachers, and after the ecclesiastical dynasty of Rome had been replaced by that of the Church of England, there were periods when the independent conscience of a few pious Welshmen rose against religious formalism, and the credal constraints of "established" teaching-and suffered for it. Burning heretics at the stake had ceased to be a church practice before the 1740's, but Howell Harris, Daniel Rowlands, and the rest of the "Methodist Fathers," with their followers, were not only ostracised by society and haled before magistrates to be fined for preaching, and sometimes imprisoned, but they were chased and beaten by mobs, ducked in ponds and rivers, and pelted with mud and garbage when they tried to speak or sing. But they kept on talking and singing. Harris (who had joined the army in 1760) owned a commission, and once he saved himself from the fury of a mob while preachingwith cloak over his ordinary dress-by lifting his cape and showing the star on his breast. No one dared molest an officer of His Britannic Majesty. *Possibly they were written in Welsh, and translated into English by his friend and neighbor, Peter Williams. But all were not able to use St. Paul's expedient in critical moments.* William Williams often found immunity in his hymns, for like Luther--and like Charles Wesley among the Cornwall sea-robbers-he caught up the popular glees and ballad-refrains of the street and market and his wife sang their music to his words. It is true many of these old Welsh airs were minors, like "Elvy" and "Babel" (a significant name in English) and would not be classed as "glees” in any other country-always excepting Scotlandbut they had the swing, and their mode and style were catchy to a Welsh multitude. In fact many of these uncopyrigid bits of musical vernacular were appropriated by the hymnbook makers, and christened with such titles as "Pembroke," "Arabia," "Brymgfryd," "Cwyfan," "Thydian," and the two mentioned above. It was the time when Whitefield and the Wesleys were sweeping the kingdom with their conquering eloquence, and Howell Harris (their fellowstudent at Oxford) had sided with the conservative wing of the Gospel Reformation workers, and become a "Whitfield Methodis:." The Welsh Methodists, ad exemplum, marched with this Calvinistic branch-as they do today. Cach division had its Christian bard. Charles Wesley could put regenerating power into sweet, poetic hyons, and William Williams' lyrical preaching made e Bible a travelling pulpit. The great "Beibl Pet Wil *Acts 22:25. liams" with its commentaries in Welsh, since so long reverenced and cherished in provincial families, was not published till 1770, and for many the printed Word was far to seek.* But the gospel minstrels carried the Word with them. Some of the long hymns contained nearly a whole body of divinity. The Welsh learn their hymns by heart, as they do the Bible-a habit inherited from those old days of scarcity, when memory served pious people instead of print-so that a Welsh prayer-meeting is never embarrassed by a lack of books. An anecdote illustrates this characteristic readiness. In February, 1797, when Napoleon's name was a terror to England, the French landed some troops near Fishguard, Pembrokeshire. Mounted heralds spread the news through Wales, and in the village of Rhydybont, Cardiganshire, the fright nearly broke up a religious meeting; but one brave woman, Nancy Jones, stopped a panic by singing this stanza of one of Thomas Williams' hymns,— Diuw os wyt am ddybenu'r bya. If Thou wouldst end the world, O Lord, From every part Thine own, *As an incident contributory to the formation of the British and Foreign Bible Society, the story has been often repeated of the little girl who wept when she missed her Catechism appointment, and told Thomas Charles of Bala that the bad weather was the cause of it, for she had to walk seven miles to find a Bible every time she prepared her lessons. See page 380. Send out Thy Word from pole to pole, And with Thy blood make thousands whole, Nancy Jones would have been a useful member of the "Singing Sisters" band, so efficient a century or more afterwards. The tunes of the Reformation under the "Methodist Fathers" continued far down the century to be the country airs of the nation, and reverberations of the great spiritual movement were heard in their rude music in the mountain-born revival led by Jack Edward Watkin in 1779 and in the local awakenings of 1791 and 1817. Later in the 19th century new hymns, and many of the old, found new tunes, made for their sake or imported from England and America. The sanctified gift of song helped to make 1829 a year of jubilee in South Wales, nor was the same aid wanting during the plague in 1831, when the famous Presbyterian preacher, John Elias,* won nearly a whole county to Christ. An accession of temperance hymns in Wales followed the spread of the "Washingtonian" *Those who read his biography will call him the "Seraphic John Elias." His name was John Jones when he was admitted a member of the presbytery. What followed is a commentary on the embarrassing frequency of a common name, nowhere realized so universally as it is in Wales. "What is his father's name?" asked the moderator when John Jones was announced. "Elias Jones," was the answer. "Then call the young man John Elias," said the speaker, "otherwise we shall by and by have nobody but John Joneses." And "John Elias" it remained. |