16. Hymn History

Hymn History

JUST AS I AM.—The author of this, Miss Charlotte Elliott, was described as “a lover of nature, a lover of souls and a lover of Jesus.” The hymn grew out of her own soul struggle, for she was long in doubt as to whether or not there was salvation for her. But one day a Christian said to her: “Charlotte, cut the cable; look at the cross of Jesus.” She did, and then from her heart issued the hymn, “Just As I Am, Without One Flea.”

I HAVE COME.—A young lady in St. Louis lay dying of consumption. She had imbibed infidelity through her teacher in the normal school, and with her keen intellect was skilful in warding off the claims of the gospel. A minister who visited her from time to time was at a loss to know what to do further, as she remained unshaken in her infidelity. At length she turned her face to the wall and would not notice him. “Lucy,” he said, “I have not called to argue with you another word, but before leaving you to meet the issues of Eternity, I wish to recite a hymn.” Then he repeated the hymn: “Just As I Am, Without One Plea.” He bade her adieu, but she made no response. He doubted whether, after such a reception, he should call again. But realizing her nearness to the Eternal world, he resolved to make one more visit. Taking his seat by her bedside, she slowly turned around in bed. Her sunken eyes shone with a luster, as she placed her thin, pale hand in his and said slowly and with much emotion: “‘Just As I Am, Without One Plea.’ O sir, I’ve come, I’ve come.” Soon after, she crossed the river.

I GAVE MY LIFE.—This is one of the many precious hymns by Miss Frances R. Havergal. Concerning this hymn she once wrote to a friend: “It may interest you to hear how nearly it went into the fire instead of nearly all over the world. It was, I think, the very first thing I ever wrote which could be called a hymn; written when I was quite a young girl. I don’t know how I came to write it. I scribbled it in pencil on the back of a circular, in a few minutes, and then read it over and thought, ‘Well this is not poetry anyhow. I won’t go to the trouble to copy this.’ So I reached out my hand to put it into the fire. A sudden impulse made me draw it back; I put it crumpled and singed, into my pocket. Soon after, I went out to see a dear old woman in an almshouse. I thought I would see if a simple old woman would care for these verses, which I felt sure nobody else would care to read. So I read them to her, and she was so delighted with them that when I went back, I copied and kept them, and now the Master has sent them out in all directions.” Miss Havergal also wrote that beautiful consecration hymn “Take My Life and Let it be Consecrated Lord to Thee.” This hymn was very widely circulated, she, herself, was deeply imbued with the spirit of consecration to Christ, and the hymn seems to be the outpouring of a sanctified, devoted heart. On her deathbed she declared: “Jesus said, ‘It is finished!’ It is simply trusting Jesus. How splendid to be so near the gates of Heaven! Tell them to trust Jesus. There it is all over.”

O HAPPY DAY.—This was written by Philip Doddridge. At his birth he gave so little sign of life that he was laid aside as dead, but an attendant, afterward observing some motion, gave him the necessary attention at that critical time. His mother, who had a family of twenty children, taught him the history of the Bible before he could read, by the aid of some Dutch tiles, about the fireplace, I believe, in the room.