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CHAPTER XII
ABOUT SINGING
THE Baptists of the Seventeenth Century were not entirely a songless people. Some few congregations were accustomed to sing the Psalms in the Authorized Version; but others, while not objecting altogether to singing as a part of Divine worship, manifested a strong dislike to metrical versions, and promiscuous, or congregational singing. The ground of their dislike was not the "barbarity and botching that everywhere occurs in the translation of Sternhold and Hopkins"*—the only English metrical version then in existence. They would have had an equal objection to the most accurate and finished translation, if it had been in metre. All such versions were quaintly styled by them "human composures," and as such were therefore deemed unsuitable for use in public worship. The strictness of their opinions on the subject of church-membership, and their disrelish for anything that seemed to ignore the difference between "the church" and "the world," occasioned their reluctance to adopt congregational singing.
[* "In the reign of Edward. VI. the effects of the Reformation became visible in our poetry, by blending religious with poetical enthusiasm, or rather by substituting the one for the other. Then flourished Sternhold and Hopkins, who, with the best intentions and the worst taste, degraded the spirit of Hebrew psalmody by flat and homely phraseology; and mistaking vulgarity for simplicity, turned into bathos what they found sublime. Such was the love of versifying Holy Writ at that period, that the Acts of the Apostles were rhymed and set to music by Christopher'Tye."—Campbell's Essay on English Poetry. The title of Tye's book is as quaint as his rhymes are grotesque:—"The Actes of the Apostles: translated into Englyshe metre, and dedicated to the Kynge's moste excellent majesty. By Christopher Tye, doctor in music; with notes to each chapter, to syng and play upon the lute; very necessary for students after they studye to fijle. they witts, and also for all Christians that cannot synge, to read the goodlie storeys of the lives of Christ Hys Apostles. London, 1553."]
A curious illustration of this
occurs in one of the earliest references to Baptist opinion on the subject,
found in the Broadmead Records. The circumstances were these: the two Baptists,
the Independent, and the Presbyterian churches in Bristol were "under
persecution" in the year 1675, and an attempt was made, apparently with a
view of strengthening each other's hands, to secure a united service. A
preliminary meeting was held, attended by eighteen representatives from the four
congregations. The Presbyterians—"Mr. Week's people"—conscious of
certain differences between their own customs and the customs of the three
congregational churches, were afraid that this "joyning together soe near
might widen and hurt" the sort of fellowship they had hitherto enjoyed, and
damage their good opinion of one another. According to their view "the
stick and obstruction" consisted in these four matters: (1) their habit of
praying for magistrates, whether good or bad; (2) their custom of "singing
Psalms with others besides the church;" (3) their opinion that none ought
to preach but those who had been ordained by the Presbytery; and (4) their fear,
lest the Baptists "should persuade some whom they deemed the best among
them to be baptized." The first and two last points were met in a frank and
brotherly fashion. As to praying for magistrates, "they were all for it as
a duty;" and although some of the expressions and titles used by the
Presbyterians when praying for magistrates, they could scarcely adopt; yet,
"they would bear with one another, if they could not say Amen in all
things." As to the question about preaching "they were all for an
orderly ministry," and would hear each other's pastors when they came out
of prison; but would be contented, meanwhile, to listen to such "gifted
brethren, not ministerially called," as were still left among them. It was,
moreover, agreed "that in this meeting of union none should preach up
baptism of believers, nor any other should preach against it." So far all
were agreed. But when they came to the question of singing, certain differences
were discovered, which afford a singular revelation of the customs of the times.
The representatives of Broadmead, of the Independents, and also part of those
belonging to the second Baptist community, "Mr. Gifford's people,"
were willing "to sing Psalms with others besides the Church;" but some
few of this second Baptist society "scrupled to sing in metre as they were
translated, although all of them did hold that singing of Psalms." The
dissentients pleaded for permission to show their dislike of metrical versions
and promiscuous singing "by keeping on their hats" during this part of
the service, "or going forth;" but the rest were naturally unwilling
that this public and disorderly method of showing displeasure should be adopted.
It was, therefore, agreed, that if the united services should be held, those who
sympathised with the dissentients, "if they would not keep off their hatts
and sitt still, should be desired to stay away."
That the Broadmead church were
accustomed to sing Psalms at most of their services is evident from the numerous
references to this part of worship in their remarkable and invaluable Records.
In fact, one of the earliest complaints made against them in 1671 by "old
Mr. Wright, that had been sheriff," was this—"that he could hear
them sing Psalms from their meeting-place at his house in Hauler's Lane."
But the circumstance of the Presbyterians raising this question about
congregational singing four years later, indicates that there was at that time a
divided opinion among the Baptists on the subject; a supposition which was at
once confirmed by the conduct of some of "Mr. Gifford'a people." We
have, however, no means of ascertaining how far these two Bristol churches
represented the then prevalent opinion on singing in their section of the
Baptist denomination.
Outwitting Persecutors by Singing Psalms
There is a smack of dry humour in the use to which the Broadmead church put
their fondness for psalmody. They often sung Psalms in order to outwit their
persecutors. Before their meetings began some particular Psalm was selected, in
the event of what they called "trouble"—that is, the sudden
appearance of informers, or of the mayor and his officers, for the purpose of
dispersing their assemblies or apprehending their preachers. In "Brother
Gifford's meeting" there was a trapdoor in the floor, on which the preacher
stood, and "a company of tall brethren" surrounded the speaker, so
that he could be instantly let down into the room below on the signal being
given that an informer was at the door. But the Broadmead brethren, in similar
emergencies, immediately struck up the Psalm they had previously agreed upon,
and sung it in a slow and deliberate manner. They had also hit upon an ingenious
contrivance for shielding the speaker from the eyes of any informers who might
creep unawares into their assembly. The speaker stood behind a curtain, with a
few well-known friends, and this enclosure was guarded from intrusion by a line
of brethren "without the curtain," who hindered any from going behind
but persons of well-established repute among them. If the informers' party in
the street made a rush upstairs, they found their steps impeded by "the
women and maides" purposely sitting on the stairs to hinder their too rapid
progress. And when they entered the room the curtain was lifted up, and
"all ye people began to sing a Psalme."
In this way the mayor and his
officers were many times prevented from pouncing upon any one of the company as
the ringleader: "when all were singing, he knew not who to take away more
than another." Of course the mayor was not pleased thus to be baffled in
seizing his prey; but "brother Terrill tould him Singing of Psalms was not
contrary to ye Liturgies of ye Church of England"— for which ready speech
brother Terrill was declared a ringleader, and threatened with imprisonment. On
other occasions, when the mayor, or the bishop's men came to disperse them, and
commanded them, in the King's name, to depart, "ye people singing, none
heeded what they said, but sate still." They thus tried to drown, to the
ears of the rest of the congregation, the course and brutal language which some
of the officers did not scruple to use to "grave gentlewomen," and
even "to sister Ellis, an elder." When they called the first
"confident jades," and the second "old carrion," "ye
people kept singing all ye while." On another occasion they thus defeated
the whole posse of their persecutors—"the mayor and his officers, and the
bishop, with divers of his crew and men." Mr. Hardcastle, their minister,
had just been released from his second imprisonment. It was the first Lord's-day
after, "being ye 22nd of ye 6th month, August, 1765." A larger company
than usual had met together for religious worship. The mayor, hearing of the
meeting, arranged his plans accordingly. On reaching the door, two sergeants
were sent up to command them to disperse, one of them making the proclamation,
"O, yes!" three times in a loud voice. The whole assembly struck up
the Psalm selected, on receiving this signal that their persecutors were below,
so that the sergeant's voice was unheard save by the few that stood near him.
The mayor now goes up himself, followed by his attendants, and repeats the
command, in the King's name, to depart. Still the singing went on,—"every
one looked into his owne book, and soe sung, and kept stopps one with another,
and lifted up their voice together." The mayor was puzzled, and "knew
not what to do." He did, in fact, the best thing he could do, under such
circumstances: "he went downe again." All this while the bishop
himself was skulking "below att the door." He also "was coming
up," but his courage failed him when he found that "the first paire of
staires was somewhat dark." Braggart as he was, he did not know but the
second pair might be darker, and he therefore very prudently "drew
back." The whole company of persecutors being thus foiled at Broadmead,
next tried "brother Gifford's meeting," where, "finding him in
exercise [that is, preaching,] he was marched off to prison."
Grantham on "the Duty of Thanksgiving"
Three years after the dissension at Bristol on the subject of singing,
Grantham published his elaborate treatise on Primitive Christianity. It is
extremely improbable that he knew, even by. rumour, what had taken place at this
private meeting of the representatives of the four congregations. It is,
however, a fact worth repeating, that Grantham was regarded as the eloquent
mouthpiece of the General Baptists of his own day. On both accounts, therefore,
the independence of his testimony on the Baptist opinion about singing, and the
position he held among his own people,—his remarks in the chapter in Primitive
Christianity on "the duty of thanksgiving," possess a value all their
own.
Grantham begins by complaining that
all parts of the Christian religion "have suffered great violence by the
encroachment of human innovations," and "this solemn part of God's
holy service hath suffered with the rest. So perverted are men's views of the
subject of thanksgiving, that it has become hard to bring them off from the
mistakes into which they have fallen." However, he will "do somewhat,
as God shall assist him," to shew these four things:—"(1) That
Psalms and Hymns, as recommended to us, or required to be performed as a part of
public worship of God in the Christian Church, are to be sung there, by such as
God hath fitted thereto by the help of His Spirit, for the edification of the
Church; (2) That the matter of these Psalms is to accord with the Psalms and
Hymns in the Scripture; and that the Primitive Church used no other manner of
singing than such as that the Church may be edified by understanding the voyce
of him that sung; (3) That the formalities now used generally in singing Psalms,
&c., differ greatly from that which God hath ordained for this worship and
service in that case; (4) Make manifest the sincerity of this service in
praising God in Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs in the Christian
Church."
In touching upon the first point,
Grantham contends that there are two ways of performing the service. The first
is, "by meer art, as those doe who only speak what another puts into their
mouths," which, at its best is "no Christian ordinance," but
"counterfeit Psalmody," and "an empty form of words." The
second is, "by the gift of God's grace and Spirit." He then proceeds
to show that this was what the Apostle meant when he said, "How is it,
brethren, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine," &c. [1 Cor.
14:26] Each one had not a Psalm for edification, and therefore each one could
not actually sing Psalms. Those who were thus gifted spoke for the profit and
comfort of others, although even they might be refused, "if not according
to the Word of God." The Psalms of David could not be meant, since all had
them, and even a child seven years old, could read or sing these Psalms;
therefore, "having a Psalm," indicated "something more than the
ability to read or sing them out of a book." Still further, "he who
had the Psalm is required to sing the Psalm in the church, and none else; just
as he that hath a doctrine was required to produce it, and not he that had it
not." And, lastly, the singing was to be "performed to edifying;
consequently the church is to attend him, or to what he holds forth in the way
of psalmody, that they may be taught and admonished by him, or have their hearts
exhilarated or drawn up to praise the Lord in conjunction of their spirits with
his." This last point is also taught in the words, "Speaking to
yourselves in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making melody
in your heart unto the Lord." [Eph. 5:19] Not that there was any great
difference "as to the matter and manner" between psalms, hymns, and
spiritual songs; they were various expressions for the same thing substantially,
like prophesying, preaching, and teaching; nor yet that these words imply
"that every man and woman must needs speak together, that the psalms,
&c., were sung promiscuously of the whole congregation, any more that the
Apostle Jude's words, 'Building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying
in the Holy Ghost,' &c., imply 'that every man and woman is to preach and
pray actually at the same moment in the church." Moreover, the words,
"Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and
admonishing one another in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs,"
[Colossians 3:16] &c., indicate that this service is, after all, "a
more difficult way of teaching than that of the common gift of
exhortation;" and it has only to be mentioned to show "the unmeetness
of the weakest youth or virgin in the church admonishing and teaching the
pastor, as much as the pastor teacheth and admonisheth them" in the due
performance of this duty. "This is to make all the body a mouth, and wholly
to take away the use of the ear, whilst Psalms are thus being sung." Much
more could be urged "for all praying at once than for all singing at once.
Prayer is the pouring out of our hearts to God, and not to one another; but in
Psalms we speak to one another, and therefore, of necessity, some must
hear."
Grantham next touches on the practice
of "the Primitive Church in singing of Psalms;" and contends that
"no other way" was in use except that already explained. The
"singing at the Last Supper" is no proof to the contrary. To say
nothing about the doubt as to the meaning of the word; whether, that is, the
hymn was said or sung, there is no statement as to who said this hymn, or sung
it, and there is no evidence what the hymn was. "In fact," says
Grantham, "there is nothing to justify such a confused singing as many use
in these days, either in the account of the Last Supper in the Gospel, or in the
description of this sacred ordinance given by Paul. The Apostle does speak (1
Cor. 10) of 'the cup of blessing which we bless;' but he gives us no account of
the hymn or psalm used by our Saviour at that holy Manducation. Moreover, in the
prison at Philippi, Paul and Silas did not pray together, neither did they sing
together, but they both prayed and sang "by course." So, in writing
about "saying, Amen, at the giving of thanks," the Apostle does not
favour "promiscuous singing by many voices together, as in parochial
assemblies, or other congregations of Christians;" but "quite
overthrows it, since he makes it necessary that the voice that giveth thanks, or
singeth, be intelligible to him that stands by, as much as it ought to be in
prayer, that so the rest may be edified, and give their Amen to what is
expressed in prayer or praises." In the "noise" of promiscuous
singing, "musick may please the ear," but none can be edified.
"Indeed," says Grantham, "this new device of singing what is put
in men's mouths by a reader;" this singing, either "David's Psalms, or
their own composures, in a mixed multitude of voices;" this singing, not
merely "in parochial assemblies, but by those that think themselves more
happy, in that they have found out a way to compose hymns themselves, and set
them out, that others may sing the same things with them," is not only
"wholly without any example from any of the Primitive Churches of
Christ," but is "foreign to the sincerity and simplicity of this holy
service." Once introduce the habit of "tying all to one man's words,
measures, and tones, in so great an ordinance" as this, and you will
"make a fair way for forms of prayer" to follow.
Grantham finds no little satisfaction
in the fact, "that many good men of antient and latter times have greatly
disliked the musical way of singing Psalms;" and in the third section he
quotes a few instances in point. There is Augustine, for example. "Very
fierce am I sometimes," says Augustine, "in the desire of having the
melody of all pleasant music, (to which David's Psalter is often sang), banished
from mine own ears, and out of the whole church too; yea, the safer way, as it
seemed to me, which I remember to have often told me, of Athanasius, Bishop of
Alexandria, who caused the reader of the Psalm to sound it forth with little
warbling of the voice, as that it was near to pronouncing than to singing."
Rabanus Maurice also declares that in the Primitive Church "singing was
more like loud reading than a song." Athanasus, moreover, so disliked
"a confused way of psalmody that he utterly forbad it, since it raised both
lightness and vanity in singers and hearers." Erasmus, in his comment on 1
Cor. 10 points out how "in monasteries, cathedrals, and temples, almost
generally" men dissent from Paul, for in "Paul's time there was no
singing, but saying only." Theodosius Basil, also, in his Book of Relics,
tells us of some strange innovations made by Pope Vatalian:—"Being a
lusty singer, and a fresh courageous musician himself, brought into the Church
prick-song, descant, and all kinds of sweet and pleasant melody. And because
nothing should want to delight the vain, foolish, and idle ears of fond and
phantastical men, he joyned the organs to the curious musical. Thus was Paul's
preaching, and Peter's praying, turned into vain singing and childish playing,
unto the great loss of time, and to the utter undoing of Christian men's souls,
which live not by singing and piping, but by every word that cometh out of the
mouth of God." Church music was indeed introduced two centuries before,
"though not with these curiosities." And the "vanity thereof hath
ever been censured by wise men, and particularly by Dr. Cornelius Agrippa.
'Music,' saith he, 'is grown to such and so great licentiousness, that even in
the ministration of the Holy Sacrament, all kinds of light, wanton, and trifling
songs, with piping of organs, hath place. As for Common Prayer, it is so chanted
and minced, and mangled by our costly hired musicians, that it may justly seem
not to be a noise made by men, but rather a bleating of brute beasts; whiles the
children neigh out a descant, as it were a sort of colts, others bark a counter
tenor like a number of dogs. Some bellow out a tenor, like a company of oxen;
and. others grunt out a bass, like a company of hogs, so that a very
ill-favoured sound is made: but as for the words and sentences, nothing is
understood but the authority and power of judgment from the ears and
heart.'"
This quotation seems to Grantham
"to give fit occasion to show something of the vanities formerly in use in
cathedral devotions, and now in common use in several places in this
nation." He, therefore, quotes one of the collects as generally sung,
"and the manner thus":—"Almighty God, the fountain of all
wisdom, of all wisdom; which knoweth our necessities before we ask, which
knoweth our necessities before we ask, before, before we ask, before we ask; and
our ignorance in asking, in asking, in asking. We beseech Thee, we beseech Thee,
we beseech Thee, to have compassion, to have compassion, to have compassion, on
our infirmities, on our infirmities, infirmities, our infirmities. And those
things, those things, those things, which for our unworthiness, which for our
unworthiness, unworthiness, our unworthiness, which for unworthiness, we dare
not, we dare not, we dare not; and for our blindness, our blindness, for our
blindness, we cannot ask, we cannot ask, we cannot ask: Vouchsafe to give us,
vouchsafe to give us, for the worthiness, for the worthiness; of Thy Son Jesus
Christ our Lord, of Thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, Jesus Christ our Lord, of Thy
Son Jesus Christ our Lord, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen,
Amen."
However much Grantham may have
disliked these "vain repetitions," or however greatly he may have
admired the sharp things said about Church music by "some ancient and
latter writers," it is somewhat strange that one so well-informed did not
notice the fact that congregational singing was destroyed by these innovations,
not created; that the clerical Cantores took the singing entirely out of the
mouth of the people generally; that later on, one of the signs of men being
disciples of Huss and Luther was, that they sung Psalms together; and that many
suppose this practice earned for the Lollards their distinctive name.
In the fourth section Grantham
discourses on what he deems "the sure way of praising God in psalms, hymns,
and spiritual songs, according to the Scripture." He dismisses the example
of singing, accompanied by musical instruments, set forth in the Old Testament,
as a concession to the "gross hearts of the Jews," as belonging to
what Calvin calls "the law of schooling, and now no more meet for setting
forth God's glory, than if a man should call again censing, lamps, and other
shadows of the law. Foolishly, therefore, have the Papists borrowed these things
from the Jews." Since, then, "singing in tunes and measures by a
company of singing men, or a confused multitude, will be found to be as much
borrowed from the Jews, as the musical instruments themselves, . . . and the law
of these ceremonies being peculiar to the Jewish Church, and in no ways
transmitted to the Church of Christ by any part of Christ's doctrine in the New
Testament, ... it remains that we stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ
hath made us free."
As to the matter of singing, in New
Testament Churches, "it must be the Word of God, or that which is according
to it, seated in the soul of the Christian, and not as it may be read to them
out of a book only, and then repeated." "David's Psalms and other
Divine hymns, contained in the Scriptures, are good presidents and guides to us
in the performance of this duty; but to take these Psalms barely as they lie,
and to sing them; or to translate them into metre, and then to sing them; or to
take them as others have translated them into metre, and so to sing them, is
that which we find not so much as one of the Primitive Christians to have done
before us; and how we should suppose such things to be acceptable to God in His
worship, I know not." It is not "a bare recital of Sacred
Scripture" that is implied; but "some part of the heavenly mystery, or
mind of God contained therein, with a present capacity of fitness and spirit to
sound forth His praise that giveth the Word, and to the profit of the
Church." But this is a gift not bestowed upon every one, any more than the
ability to edify; yet "he that hath a Psalm, or gift to praise God in His
Church, ought to sing there to edify others."
The same things are virtually
repeated when speaking "of the manner how Christians are to sing praises to
God in church assemblies," only with greater detail. "The only certain
and undoubted manner is this:—That such persons as God hath gifted to tell
forth His mighty acts, and to recount His special Providences, and upon whose
hearts God hath put a lively sense of present mercies, should have the liberty
and convenient opportunity to celebrate the high praises of God, one by
one;" that all this is "to be done with a pleasant and cheerful voice,
that may serve to express the joys conceived in the heart of him that singeth,
the better to affect the hearts of all the congregation with the wondrous works
of God, and the continual goodness which He sheweth toward the children of men,
and especially towards His people." This method "of one only singing
the praises of God is perhaps but rarely done in these days, at least not as it
should be; yet I know not of any that deny the thing to be lawful." It
certainly requires "as great an ability, and as spiritual a mind, as any
other service performed in the churches, and therefore calls for as great study,
and holy waiting upon God for His help in the performance or ministerial part
thereof."
But as for "plain song,
prick-song, descant, or other poetical strains," they are "men's
devices," and "very much unlike the gravity of Christian
worship." "The very Papists deride the singing of David's Psalms in a
rhythmical way," especially those translated by Beza, calling them
"Geneva jiggs;" and the use of such Psalms, "though better
translated than they are, as a part of our rational worship is thought by one
writer to be as ridiculous as making our addresses to persons in authority by
epistles and orations out of Tully." To which Grantham rejoins: "But
if David's Psalms, though better translated than they are, will not pass in the
judgment of this learned Protestant for a part of rational worship, I marvel how
such as pretend to a higher pitch of reformation should think that their private
poetisms should find acceptance in the churches of God. How much better is it to
content ourselves where we are than to take up such fancies? "Musical
singing with a multitude of voices together in rhime and metre is liable,"
says Grantham, "to so many just exceptions, as may caution any good
Christian to beware of it."
(1) The very founders and uses soon
became disgusted with it. (2) The very novelty of it makes against it. (3)
Instruction is prevented, "for when all speak, none can hear;" and
"spiritual gifts are drowned by the voice of men and women who have no
gifts at all." (4) None so singing "can be confident they have done
the will of God." (5) Singing other men's words "opens a gap for forms
of prayer." (6) It makes void the way of singing which is undoubtedly
warranted. (7) Once permit the singing by art pleasant tunes, and you will bring
music, and even instruments back again into public worship, and then, farewell
all solemnity. (8) You even make this proposition true—that no Christian
Church is complete in the order of God's worship, without some skill in poetry
and music.
Grantham closes by saying, "I
would not be understood to censure those that differ from me in understanding or
practice in this particular, who have a pious mind in setting forth God's
praises in some of the modes opposed"—a charity which was unfortunately
not largely imitated, as we shall presently see. He however wishes that "
the baptized churches especially would more seriously consider this matter than
hitherto, that this service might be better known to the glory of God and the
good of the churches."
Mr. Keach introduces Singing at Horselydown
The words of Grantham point to a change which was already beginning to creep slowly over some of the songless sanctuaries of the Baptists, at least of the other section, if not of his own. Among the persons ''who had found out a way to compose hymns, and set them out that others might sing the same things with them," was Benjamin Keach, who had already been, at the time Grantham published his book, for ten years the devoted and exemplary pastor of Goat-street, Horselydown. Indeed, according to one complainant, Mr. Keach was the first minister who introduced singing in that church; but the only concession originally permitted was, that they should sing after the Lord's Supper. To the great trouble of the unmusical brethren in the church, "many of the honest hearers, who stayed to see that holy administration, sung with them." The next innovation was, singing on public thanksgiving days; but this was continued for a brief period, and is spoken of in 1691 as ceasing twelve or fourteen years previously. An attempt was made to revive it when a stranger occupied the pulpit, and apparently with some little success. The minister "had ended his exercise, when a hymn was given up to him, we know not," say the songless few, "by whom, (except it were by Mr. Keach's means,) which he read and sung, and the people with him; but this was not in the least by the appointment of the church, but was an imposition on them, and a surprise to the minister himself, and his great trouble, when he had considered of it, as he himself told many of us afterwards."
Keach's Defence of Singing
The dissentients at Horselydown found a valorous champion in Isaac Marlow,
who had, in 1690, published a Discourse Concerning—or rather
against—Singing. Mr. Keach followed with his Breach Repaired in God's Worship;
or, Singing Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, proved to be a holy ordinance of
Jesus Christ. Very gravely and very soberly does the good pastor set to work, in
this book, to show "that there are various kinds of voices; namely, (1) a
shouting noise of the tongue; (2) a crying noise; (3) a preaching voice, or
noise made that way; (4) a praying, or praising voice; and, lastly, (5) a
singing voice. All these," says Mr. Reach, without a smile (in fact his
face, judged from the portrait prefixed to one edition of his book, looks as if
it could rarely smile), "are distinct from each other. Singing," he
declares, "is not a simple heart singing, or mental singing; but a musical
melodious modulation, or tuning of the voice." "Singing is a duty
performed always with the voice, and cannot be done without the tongue."
The duty of singing is then enforced on various grounds. It is an ancient
practice: "angels sang at the first creation." "The devil hates
it, is a great enemy of singing, and doth not love the Hosannas to Christ."
It is a moral duty. It is right to use the faculty we have for singing, since
God creates nothing in vain. It is a part of natural religion. It has been
practised by God's people in all ages: before the giving of the Law, under the
Law, under the Gospel, and after Apostolic times.
Keach, according to Marlow, had
twelve months before the publication of this book, "vehemently pressed
forward" the duty of singing, at "the first and greatest
Assembly" of Particular Baptists, challenged to dispute the matter, and had
been accepted; but the Assembly "thought it not convenient to spend much
time that way." He also points out that Hercules Collins was the first to
broach the assertion among the Particular Baptists that singing was "a
public duty," in his appendix to his Orthodox Catechism, published in 1680;
and that Keach followed in the same strain both in his Tropes and Figures
(1682), and his Treatise on Baptism, or Gold Refined (1689).
"The Leader of the Opposition"—Isaac Marlow
The controversy once opened, was carried on with great eagerness on both
sides for the next eight or ten years. Marlow followed Keach's Breach Repaired,
by a treatise entitled The Truth Soberly Defended (1692). Singing is therein
designated "false worship," "error," "dangerous and
destructive to the peace and well-being of our churches, and to the pure worship
of God therein," a practice from which he hopes all "sober, impartial,
and inquiring Christians, may keep themselves undented." Hanserd Knollys
had printed a sheet for singing, often quoted against Marlow; but Marlow thinks,
that the strictures in that on himself are to be charitably judged as arising
''through the failure of Knollys' intellects, he being then between ninety-two
and ninety-three years of age." As for Joseph Wright's book, Folly
Detected, animadverting on Marlow's first publication, "it showeth folly in
the face of it, wherein there is neither spiritual savour, nor common civility;
but in divers parts of it a breathing forth of passion, anger, and great
contempt." Hard words, with a vengeance: but in this singing controversy a
good many hard words were uttered, and men's passions ran high. Even Mr. Keach
has dealt out to him a fair share of rebuke. Marlow complains of being styled by
both Wright and Keach, "a person not fit to meddle with divine
things," a man "that plays the part of a sophister,"
"justifying Quaker's silent meetings," "little better than an
enthusiast," "a mischievous person who fires his neighbour's house,
and burns down his own," "a ridiculous scribbler," "a brazen
forehead," "a non-churcher," "a ranter," "a
novice," "an ignoramus," and other equally contemptuous terms.
"By this way," says Marlow, "they have laboured to aliene the
minds of Christians from me."
There is a good deal of querulous
complaint in Marlow's book; but these expressions show how much occasion had
been given for his reference to Mr. Keach's "hot spirit." The singing
every Lord's-day at Horselydown, which was the third innovation, had, in
Marlow's judgment, been smuggled in by unfair means. "A church-meeting was
called on Sunday evening after the public worship was over." Mr. Keach
obtained a majority of votes; but, adds Marlow, "a major vote is no proof
of truth." Unquestionably: but the point to be decided then was, not
"the truth," but the adoption of singing after every service on the
Sunday. The majority carried the day; but the dissentients soon after seceded
from Horselydown, formed themselves into a fresh community, and established the
church-meeting at Maze Pond. [They continued to adhere steadfastly to the
principle of the original constitution till after the death of their second
minister, Rev. Edward "Wallen; but Abraham West, in 1739, made it a
condition of his accepting the pastoral office, that singing should be
introduced into public worship."—Wilson’s Dissenting Churches.]
The hearty personalities of several
pamphlets published at this time on the singing controversy, led the Particular
Baptist General Assembly, for the credit of the denomination, to take up the
matter. Seven brethren were appointed to examine certain pamphlets, and report
thereon, the offenders agreeing to abide by their decision. Marlow was not among
them. The committee sharply reproved the pamphleteers for "their
uncharitable, unsavoury censures, reflections, and reproaches." The books
were desired to be brought in, and left at the disposal of the Assembly. The
writers were warned, that if they repeated their offences, "they will be
remarked;" but they are entreated by the committee, "on their knees,
to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace." The members of the
churches were besought neither "to buy, sell, give, or disperse,"
certain pamphlets named, among which was Marlow's Truth Soberly Defended.
Crosby is evidently in error when he
says that "a stop was thus put to the troubles that threatened the baptized
churches upon this controversy;" although it may be quite true that
"many of them from that time sung the praises of God in their public
assemblies who had not used that practice before." [Crosby, vol. iii. 271.]
Marlow's Controversy of Singing brought to an end was issued a few years
subsequently; and instead of ending the debate, gave it a fresh impetus. In this
book Marlow thus states the difference between himself and his
opponents:—"The question between us and our brethren is not, whether any
such thing as vocal melodious singing is exhorted unto in the New Testament, for
this we freely own; but the controversie lyes herein, viz.:
(1) Whether the saints were moved to
the exercise of it in the Apostle's time, only as an extraordinary spiritual
gift, depending on divine inspiration as some other gifts did; or, that it was
appointed as a constant gospel ordinance in the church in an ordinary
administration also. (2) In what external manner it was thus exercised; whether,
in a prestinted form of words, made in artificial rhimes; or, as the Spirit, by
His more immediate dictates, gave them utterance. And (3) Who was it that sang?
Whether the minister sang alone; or with him a promiscuous assembly of
professors, and profane men and women, with united voices together."
Marlow's Strictures on Alien's Essay
Another singing brother had entered the lists in place of Mr. Keach—Mr.
Richard Alien. This worthy minister had shown his willingness to suffer for the
truth during the times of persecution. He had been pastor of the church at
Turners' Hall for many years, and was now minister at Barbican. During his
previous pastorate he had been fined, and had lain for some weeks in Newgate. On
one occasion, whilst preaching at the early hour of five o'clock in the morning,
some troopers surprised the congregation, abused the people, and from being
incensed against the preacher, threw one of the forms at him as he stood in the
pulpit. Although regarded as a General Baptist in sentiment, his chief friends
were among the Particular Baptist ministers. Sympathising with Mr. Keach's
opinions on singing, he had published An Essay to Prove Singing of Psalms with
Conjoint Voices, a Christian Duty. Marlow now turns his facile sword to meet the
new comer. Mr. Alien had urged, in his Essay, that as men had the faculty not
only for praising God in their hearts, but also in their mouths, it was
therefore their moral duty to use both faculties. "Is it?" says
Marlow. "Then why not all other faculties too—dancing, laughing,
shouting, whistling, since these are as much faculties as singing?" Mr.
Alien thinks men may use a Scriptural form of sound words in prayer. But it
follows not, therefore, that there is any ground for men of a failable
[fallible] spirit to compose a form of prayer in their own words, and impose it
upon others. "Exactly so," adds Marlow, "and we have the same
dislike to stinted forms of hymns made by Mr. Alien and his fellow-singers,
unless he would have us believe him and them to be infailable penmen of hymns
for Gospel worship." Nay, even "the utterance of David's words, 'As
the hart panteth after the waterbrooks,' is to teach people hypocrisy." Mr.
Alien does not think, on the other hand, "that there is anything in the
Psalms but what every Christian, by the gracious illumination and influence of
the Holy Spirit, may sing with a truly Christian spirit, and with much comfort
and edification to themselves;" in which opinion he will now be supported
by thousands of godly men. But Marlow makes merry over this statement, and asks,
"Whether they can so sing for their comfort and edification, 'I have more
understanding than all my teachers, I understand more than the ancients;' but if
every one, or any, of Mr. Alien's church should tell him so, in the common way
of speaking, I query if he would not think them wise in their own
conceits." As to Mr. Alien's assertion, that some of the Psalms were
written in rhyme, "it shows that he is no Hebrew scholar;" "the
rhyming at the end" of the Psalms he quotes "only happen so;" and
"several Jews," to whom Marlow had appealed, declared "that there
were no rhymes in the Hebrew."
The taste for congregational singing
had evidently spread in London since the controversy began, from the fact that
Marlow now "grieves that so many of our London elders and ministers are
blemished with such rotten notions," and that "our holy profession and
reformation is stained with so great a faction as they have raised." The
practice of congregational singing will, in his opinion, lead to "baptism,
and all upholders of it, being contemned and frowned at," whatever
expenditure there may be of labour and men "to stop the gap that is
opening." At the thought of his own efforts, Marlow grows
prophetic:—"Whether our singing elders and fellow Christians will hear,
or whether they will forbear; I believe that my testimony to the truth will
outlive them, and their folly, committed in God's Israel, whatever may become of
me." But "where, with your innovations," says Marlow, "do
you design to stop?" "You have introduced this 'piece of false
worship:' what will be the next?"
As to the men whose names were put to
A Sober Reply to Mr. R. Steed's Epistles, they have thereby proclaimed
themselves the ringleaders in this innovation; forgetting that "since the
yoak of persecution has been taken from off our necks there has been woful
demonstrations of decay, of true godliness, and such troubles and disorders as I
have never heard of among us before, the occasion whereof in part has arisen
from this piece of false worship which they have appeared for, and so have
endeavoured to introduce into our churches."
"Even Mr. Keach's failure to get
the sanction of the General Assembly to his love of singing, did not deter one
of your number, Mr. Thomas Whinnel, from attempting, at the last meeting,
craftily and surreptitiously, in combination with others, on the last day of the
Assembly, when most of the country messengers were gone home, and many of the
messengers of the churches in the city were absent, a time intended only for
them that remained to put in order what had been agreed on in the former days of
their Assembly that it might be presented to the churches—did then present
something to be debated concerning persons retaining their communion with a
church whereof they were members, though the practice of common singing were
contrary to their common judgment and consciences set up in it; but being then
so unseasonably presented in the absence of the greater part of the Assembly, it
was witnessed against by many then present, as that which was not fit to be
debated at that time; it savouring more of a political contrivance, than of
honesty and candour."
These queries of Marlow, addressed to
the same persons, read strangely enough in our day: "(1) Whether you
believe it lawful, by the command of God, for you that are members of a separate
baptized church, to have full communion at the Lord's table, with a church of
the Independent profession, who are not baptized on a profession of faith, but
only sprinkled in their infancy? (2) Whether you count it lawful for you to have
such full communion with those Independent brethren, and can sing with them, as
they do in public worship, that then you have any ground to make it a case of
conscience to maintain a separate church state from them?"
Marlow singles out, among the special
advocates for congregational singing who deserve his censure, William Kiffin,
Robert Steed, George Barrat, and E. Man. They are all charged, like Keach, with
"vehemently and frequently pressing the question" on the attention of
various Assemblies, with preaching this "common set-form of singing,"
and "with inserting in print in the view of all men "their opinions
thereon. For his own part, he is full of fear about this "piece of human
art, introduced for a piece of gospel worship." "Trouble and
distraction" have already come as the consequence; and "unless the
churches themselves use great care and faithfulness in preserving the purity of
those congregations that are better principled than their elders, or some of
their ministers, a few years will produce a great alteration in divers of our
churches about London." To such an extent had "the infection" of
"set-form singing" spread, that, in Marlowe's opinion, there were in
1696 but few churches in the metropolis, "but what have either their elders
or their ministers" under its poison. "When the better principled are
removed by death, these men will step into their places; and then, with their
removal, and the wearing away of the ancient members,—what may we expect? It
will be, as Dr. Owen says, 'Like priest, like people.'"
E. H.'s "Scripture Proof"
The same year that Marlow published his last book (1696), a certain "E.
H." issued a book, entitled, Scripture Proof for Singing of Scripture
Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs. Or, an Answer to several Queries and
Objections frequently made use of to stumble and turn aside young Christians
from their duty to God in singing Psalms gathered out of Scripture Truth. To
which is added, the Testimony of some Learned Men to Prove that Scripture Psalms
are intended by all those three words, Psalms, Hymns, and Songs, used by the
Apostles—Eph. 5:19;
Col. 3:16." The book was
prefaced by "an Epistle," signed by Nathaniel Mather and Edward
Chauncy, which runs as follows: "The author is by face wholly unknown to
us; but we have, with much satisfaction and delight, perused his ensuing
treatise, finding it to be solid and judicious, and full of Scripture light and
strength, and singularly adapted and suited to enlighten and establish plain
Christians, whose consciences are determined by, and faith bottomed in, the
Scriptures. As to his opinion, that nothing should be sung in public worship but
Scripture Psalms, and Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, thereby excluding the hymns of
human composure, by a private gift, which some sing in their solemn assemblies,
we do freely concur with him; and heartily wish that those who practice
otherwise would a little better consider what they do. We know not anything that
such can allege for their way, seeing God hath furnished us with such full
supply of spiritual songs of His own inditing, and seeing there is not any
intimation in the Scriptures that it was ever practised among the people of God
of old."
Dr. Russell on Alien's Essay
Yet another pamphlet appeared in this somewhat prolific year of the singing
controversy, 1696. This time our valiant old friend. Dr. Russell, breaks a lance
with Mr. Richard Alien. He styles his book, Some Brief Animadversions on Mr.
Alien's Essay. Mr. Alien had argued that "the common practice of singing
with rhime, and conjoint voices was a Christian duty," and Dr. Russell,
being one of the old fashioned General Baptists, who disbelieved in such singing
altogether, undertakes to "examine" Mr. Alien's arguments and
"refute" them. The book is valuable, if only for the side-lights
thrown on Baptists of that time, apart from the special subject on which it
treats. Like Marlow, Russell grieves over "the late troublers of the
denomination, who have introduced this new human invention of singing David's
Psalms in rhime and metre, with conjoint voices;" and also, like Marlow, he
hopes the words he addresses "to the messengers, elders, and brethren of
the baptized" churches, may be the means of restoring union and peace. He
points out the fact, that some of the ministers who endorsed Mr. Alien's Essay,
"and fixed their names to it by way of approbation, omit to practice
singing in their own congregations;" and declares that "Mr. Keach's,
and some other congregations are the sole representatives of the modern
innovation." It is also a source of grief that these innovators "have
corrupted some of our young men with this notion of theirs about singing,"
especially singling out one of them by name—"that hopeful young branch,
Mr. Thomas Harrison." The defection is the more painful to Dr. Russell,
since "his (Mr. Harrison's) father was once a parish minister, had his eyes
opened about singing in the art of singing, and regarded the common way of
singing as will-worship, as much as Common Prayer or infant's sprinkling;"
and this "indiscreet action" does not "bespeak that respect for
his father's memory which he ought to show." Before this "hopeful
young branch had endorsed Mr. Alien's Essay," he ought to have been able to
answer the grounds of his father's opinion to the contrary. Yet, he "does
not blame him so much as others; and, notwithstanding this slip, he has more
honourable thoughts of him than it is proper here to express."
We shall see presently how
"young Mr. T. H." answers Dr. Russell's public appeal to him. There is
also another challenge to his opponents of harsh treatment, or at any rate,
"of unkindness to their old servant who wrote the Queries, since they have
turned him out of his house, and taken all his salary from him, notwithstanding
he was one of their own members, and had served them faithfully, even to old
age, and is yet in communion with them." This is also answered by-and-bye.
Russell waxes very indignant as he
thinks of the singing of "rhimes by a set-form," in baptized
congregations, and "that by all the people together, whether saints or
sinners, members or no members, whether they are young or old, understand or not
understand, what is sung." It is a "mere human invention of ballad
singing!" cries out the irate doctor. "Why, it first began with
Clement Marot, the groom of the bedchamber of the French King, Francis 1st. He
used to make songs for the king; and was at last prevailed upon by Fr. Vetablus,
to relinquish his trifling doggrel, and to turn David's Psalms into French metre;
that he did thus translate the first thirty; and the king sang them, as he had
done the former ballads. After this, Beza and Calvin encouraged Marot, when at
Geneva, to turn more of them into rhime; and they were then brought into use in
their Assemblies." If Mr. Alien cannot bring another instance of David's
Psalms being translated into metre in any language before this attempt of
Marot's, "let him forbear thus fooling with his new method of
ballad-singing; for it is no better." Even self-interest might have some
weight. "Your ballad-singing hath a tendency to your ruin, having begun
already to diminish your numbers, and two congregations are obliged to unite
into one to keep up their reputation, and supply that deficiency singing in
rhime hath made in the loss of their members. A greater part of your members
that remain are so dissatisfied, that so soon as you begin to tune your pipes,
they immediately depart, like men affrighted."
After declaring, like Marlow, that
there was no rhime in Hebrew; and if the Jews sang, their customs are not
binding upon us, Dr. Russell bursts out into the following rhetorical
passage:—"The king's daughter now is all glorious within, endowed with
the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit, and is to act all her duties from a
principle of grace and holiness. She needs no instruments of music to stir her
affections, nor any flesh-pleasing tunes, or musical rhimes, to make her merry;
for the Spirit fills her with joy and peace through believing; and when He hath
a mind to glorify Himself by any outward melody, He will not want the assistance
of our singers to dictate tunes to express it by. And, indeed, it is strange
they should think that no praise offered up to God, in and through His Son,
should please Him so well as the rhimes of Hopkins, Sternhold, and others."
Alien's "Vindication"
Of course, Mr. Alien very soon followed Dr. Russell's Animadversions, with A
Brief Vindication of an Essay to prove Singing of Psalms, &c., from Dr.
Russell's Animadversions, and Mr. Marloic's Remarks, &c. In fact, the three
pamphlets all appeared in the same year. Mr. Alien hopes, in his "Address
to the Christian reader," "if he is a little sharp, it will be
admitted with a candid interpretation, considering the temper of the man with
whom he has to deal;" and "the five champions," as Russell called
the men who endorsed Mr. Alien's previous book (Joseph Maisters, William
Collins, Joseph Stennett, John Pigott, and Thomas Harrison) have also their
"address to the reader." They "see no reason to retract their
words of praise." They are "not convinced by the animadverter,
whatever swelling words he may use against Mr. Alien." They would seriously
ask him, "Whether he has used his pen as became a Christian, nay, as became
a man of good sense and temper; whether a charitable disposition of mind would
not set him off to better advantage than all these big pretences to a great
stock of reason and learning, the vain and empty conceit of which, while it
prompts him to look down upon others with a supercilious scorn, renders him, in
reality, an object of pity than the envy of those that are truly learned and
ingenious." Again, we say, these are hard words; but harder follow. The
"five champions" wish Dr. Russell "ballast with sail, and that
his heart may be as well furnished as his head." They are "troubled
that he could not satisfy his resentment, and blunt the edge of his passion in
striking at their little names, without profanely ridiculing an ordinance of
God; and hope he will beware of unsavoury jests in the future."
That there was really some ground for
these strictures, Mr. Alien proceeds to show. Dr. Russell had declared that Mr.
Alien and his friends were "guilty of adding to the Word of God," of
"detracting from it," of "dealing deceitfully with it," of
"using strategems to beguile the ignorant and the unstable souls," of
"cheating English readers," of "wilfully or ignorantly opposing
against the truth," of "belieing the Son of God," and " f
bringing a dreadful curse upon themselves." As for Beza, "he was an
old friend and merry companion," "a buffoon, and common ballad
maker;" and as for Mr. Alien, and his friends, "they were
ballad-singers, and made a noise like madmen."
Mr. Alien then proceeds to note some
of the misconceptions of Dr. Russell as to his own view of the question in
dispute. He certainly thinks that "it is lawful for one voice alone to sing
the praises of God; but, in a public assembly, it is much more warrantable for
the whole congregation to sing together with conjoint voices, than for one
person to sing there alone;" that he and his friends "sing psalms in
rhime, not as the only way, but as the most facile way to sing them
harmoniously;" that even "rhime and metre" are not absolutely
necessary to singing praises to God in a proper sense, "but the use of the
voice" is necessary. As for the doctor's remarks about Hebrew, he has a
good deal to say, and quotes various passages to show his assertions were not
without warrant, among others the song of Miriam. He could also justify the same
inequality of lines from Cowley's Ode on the Passion of Christ," and then
breaks out into a little ode of his own:—
"Alas! great Cowley! famous
in thy time!
It now appears thou'st neither verge
nor rhime,
In these unequal lines, which lamely
go—
Silence!—the Cambridge doctor says
'tis so."
As to the slander about "the Querist" being turned out of his
house, Alien remarks, "whereas his place is conferred upon a person as much
different from us in the point of singing as himself; and the author of the
Queries well knows that it was not me, but one nearer to himself, that was the
cause of his being desired to quit his lodgings, of which I suppose the doctor
could not be ignorant."
Thomas Harrison adds a postscript to
Alien's pamphlet; in which he declares, that "it cannot but touch me to my
quick to be charged with disrespect to my father's memory. I never knew that a
son's being of a judgment different from his father, and publishing it to the
world, was inconsistent to his father's memory. I was but just entered upon the
sixth year of my age when my honoured father exchanged this life for a better;
so that it is not very probable that I should remember his instructions about
singing, if he gave any; and seeing that he never wrote upon the subject, I must
needs be unacquainted with them." As to his name appearing with the other
four to Mr. Alien's pamphlet, "no man asked me but Mr. Alien. I did not
speak with the others about it. I needed no persuasion; but subscribed freely,
and see now no cause to repent."
Alien adds a second postscript, in
which, after showing that he also went to the same Jews as Marlow, and got a
somewhat different answer, they contending for equal feet as rhyme, and he that
it meant like sounds at the end of the lines; and firing a farewell shot at Dr.
Russell, as agreeing with "Julian, the apostate, who was the only opposer
among the ancients of the statement about the Psalms rhyming," he
concludes, with words of charity and hope: "As we believe our brethren that
neglect singing the praise of God live (through mistake), in the omission of
that which is to us an undoubted duty, yet we are willing to bear lovingly with
them till they are further enlightened; so we hope, notwithstanding Mr. Marlow's
suggestion about the ejection of all such ministers, that they will also walk
lovingly and peaceably with us as brethren."
There is a third postscript from W.
Collins, "to the Christian reader." This explains how a passage which
had been falsely translated, came to appear. Collins lays the blame on the
printer's overseer, who altered the translation himself, on his own
responsibility; and Collins demanding that the leaf on which the misrendering
occurs should be reprinted and inserted in the end. Marlow still repeated his
charge, and Collins brought the matter before an Assembly of elders and
messengers of the Devonshire-square meeting, when, Marlow having nothing to say
in defence, was condemned. Dr. Russell is also charged with repeating the
slander, since Marlow's discomfiture; "but," says Collins, with some
heat, "a man that favours his (Russell's) notions, although a vile
blasphemer, as Servetus, or a popishly-affected doctor (Wilson), shall have his
high enconiums; but he that opposeth him, in the least degree, must expect a
dose of his most churlish physick. The Lord forgive him, and such as walk in his
steps."
Claridge's Reply to Alien
The following year, Richard Claridge, a new combatant enters the arena.
Claridge was once rector of Poppleton, Warwickshire; and, adopting Baptist
sentiments, was baptized in 1691, at Bromsgrove. He settled in London as the
pastor of Bagnio-court church, afterwards removed to Currier's Hall, better
known as the Cripplegate meeting. He was a man of considerable learning, as his
pamphlet shows. After a short time Claridge became a Quaker. His Answer to
Richard Alien's Essay, Vindication, and Appendix was at first approved by Steed
and Marlow; but greatly altering "the copy" before it appeared, these
unmusical brethren withdrew their endorsement, and as a consequence only eight
sheets out of the twenty were printed. A single citation, his objection to
angels singing, is all we can find space to give:—"This is a dark region
our souls are now in; and we know but very little of the state and employment of
the heavenly angels. That they are glorious spirits, and do continually adore
and magnify God, the Holy Scriptures inform us; but that they praise Him with
vocal singing, the Sacred Records are not only silent, but it is also work
incompetent to spirits, as such, who are incorporeal beings, and so incapable,
through the defects of proper external organs, of a vocal celebration of His
adorable perfections."
How many other pamphlets on the
subject of singing were issued after this period, it is not easy to discover.
But the practice of congregational singing was still advocated by many ministers
long before the churches were willing to adopt it. William Collins tried hard to
introduce it into the church at Petty France, in 1698, but without effect; yet
after Mr. Collins' death, in 1702, the attempt was renewed by his successor with
better success; although a division was occasioned by it, and the secedera went
off to Turner's Hall, and invited Ebenezer Wilson, from Bristol, to be their
minister. This is the history of other churches in London, and elsewhere, at
least among the Particular Baptists; but the records of many of these struggles
have not been preserved.
[A pious and aged woman once visited Dr. Gill, to relieve her mind of her great trouble. It came out that her grief arose from a new tune which the clerk of Carterlane had just introduced. "Sister," asked Dr. Gill, "do you understand singing?" "No, sir." "What? can't you sing?" "No, sir." The doctor, dealing gently with her on account of her age, rejoined, "Sister, what tunes should you like to sing?" "Why, sir, I should very much like to sing David's tunes." "Well," said Dr. Gill, "if you can get David's tunes, we will try to sing them!"]
General Baptists and Singing
The General Baptists continued to oppose congregational singing for a still
longer period than their Calvinistic brethren, Grantham's opinions and influence
were still predominant until so late as 1733. Before the controversy fairly
began among the Particular Baptists, it was thought needful by the General
Baptist Assembly in 1689 "to consider the question of promiscuous singing
Psalms, either the whole together, or they in conjunction with those who were
not of their communion." The record of the case is very curious, and throws
some little further light on the matter. "The persons holding the
affirmative in this question were desired to show the Assembly what Psalms they
made use of for the matter, and what rules they did settle upon, for the
manner." There was thereupon produced, "not the metres composed by
Messrs. Sternhold and Hopkins, but a book of metres composed by one Mr. Barton,
and the rules produced to sing these Psalms as set down secundem artem; viz., as
the musicians do sing according to their gamut,—Sol, fa, la, my, ray, &c.,
&c.; which appeared so strangely foreign to the evangelical worship that it
was not conceived anywise safe for the churches to admit such carnal
formalities; but to rest satisfied in this, till we can see something more
perfect in this case, that as prayer of one in the church is the prayer of the
whole, as a church, so the singing of one in the church is the singing of the
whole church; and as he that prayeth in the church is to perform the service as
of the ability which God giveth, even so, he that singing praises in the church
ought to perform that service as of the ability received of God; that as a
mournful voice becomes the duty of prayer, so a joyful voice, "with
gravity, becomes the duty of praising God with a song in the Church of
God." This opinion was endorsed "with the general approbation of the
Assembly."
Nearly fifty years after this, that
is, in 1733, a case was presented to the General Assembly of the General
Baptists from Northamptonshire, complaining "that some churches in their
district among the General Baptists had fallen into the way of singing the
Psalms of David, or other men's composures, with tunable notes, and a mixed
multitude; which way of singing," say the complainants, "appears to us
wholly unwarrantable from the Word of God." The Northamptonshire
Association want to know whether the General Assembly look upon this as "a
thing indifferent," or whether they "disapprove of it, and use any
means to bring men off from it." To them it appears "an
innovation." The Assembly confessed, "that though some very few
practise singing in a manner different from us in the general," yet that
that was not a sufficient reason for their exclusion. There did not appear, in
the Assembly's judgment, any clear statement in Scripture about the manner of
singing, although singing itself is frequently mentioned. They would that all
were of one mind; "but as the weakness of human understanding is such that
things appear in different lights to different persons, such a concord is rather
to be desired than expected in this world." They were, therefore,
unwilling, either to dispute the question, or to impose their opinion and
practise upon others.
On the commencement of the Eighteenth
Century congregational singing was at a low ebb in this country, even in the
Establishment. One writer declares that many church choirs had only half a dozen
tunes, or fewer, from which to select; and as for "our quality and
gentry," says Nathaniel Tate, "you may hear them in the responses, and
reading-psalms; but the giving out of a singing-psalm seems to strick them
dumb." A better version of the Psalms,* and a larger and more varied stock
of tunes, soon led to a change in this matter. Nor were the Dissenters
unaffected by these improvements. Men were everywhere asking "whether
harmony in their voices would fright grace from their hearts? or whether singing
out of tune was making melody unto the Lord?" The answer was found in the
increasing attention which was everywhere paid to psalmody, and in the ready
acceptance, by Baptists among the rest, of the excellent hymns written by men of
different churches, which very soon became the common property of Christians of
every name.
[* The following story illustrates the prejudice of the illiterate against any New Versions. The Bishop of Ely told Mr. Tate that on first using Dr. Patrick's New Version [of tunes for the Psalms] at family worship, he observed that a servant maid, who possessed a musical voice, was silent for several days together. He asked her the reason; whether she were not well, or had a cold? adding, that he was much delighted to hear her, because she sung so sweetly, and kept the rest in tune. "I am well enough in health," she answered, "and have no cold. But if you must needs know the plain truth of the matter, as long as you sing Jesus Christ's Psalms I sung along with ye; but now you sing Psalms of your own invention, you may sing by yourselves!"]
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