CHAPTER VI: THOMAS WILLIAMS--CHARLES O'R BALA--DAVID CHARLES.
THOMAS WILLIAMS--CHARLES O'R BALA--DAVID CHARLES.
With the close of the eighteenth century the Golden Age of Welsh hymnody began to decline. There has been a succession of great national poets since; but they are bards of the Eisteddvod rather than singers of the sanctuary. At the same time it deserves to be noted that the chief Eisteddvod poems of the present century have nearly all some sacred subject. The great poets have failed, as usual, to write great hymns. Still, the period is not void of interesting illustrations of the songs of the Church.
THOMAS WILLIAMS, of Bethesda, in the Vale of Glamorgan, was originally a well-to-do farmer; but, owing to a bitter controversy concerning the alleged heresy of an eminent Methodist divine of the time--the Rev. Peter Williams--he, with a number of sympathizers, organized an Independent church, of which he afterwards became minister. Religiously, he was a child of the eighteenth century; and his hymns have a close spiritual affinity to the hymns of [43]David Jones and
[44]Morgan Rhys and [45]William Williams. But here and there we find traces of the natural reaction which followed the fervour of the Great Revival. A chill melancholy steals sometimes over his faith--like the sound of an autumn breeze shuddering among the brown leaves after sunset. But it passes, and be rejoices again. His volume of hymns, entitled Waters of Bethesda, was published in 1823. It takes its name from its first, and one of his best-known hymns. __________________________________________________________________
[46]Thomas Williams
I also, like so many more,
Am here beside the pool;
Waiting the Holy Ghost to stir
These waters deep and cool.
Within salvation's crystal flood,
Through time's long ages proved,
How many hearts found health again,
And all disease removed!
Beside the pool for many a day
My soul has been in grief;
And every hour is like a year,
In waiting God's relief.
And shall it be that I must die,
Who have remained so long?
Before me others always go
And wash, and they are strong.
I was the first of all to come,
But they were first made whole!
When shall the day of healing dawn
On my unhappy soul?
Here I shall tarry, come what may,
For who is there can tell
But the Physician will Himself
Come soon, and make me well? __________________________________________________________________
[47]Thomas Williams
Some of his best-known hymns--as in the case of nearly all Welsh hymn-writers--relate the vision of death: the favourite theme being that of natural fear gradually overcome by the Christian faith, as in the following
Where is Elijah's God?
Wilt Thou not come at length?
For all my hope and stay
Is only in Thy strength:
The fathers I have loved are gone;
I have but Thee to lead me on.
The breeze is blowing chill
Since early afternoon;
And as I feel its cold
I know that Death comes soon:
Nought but Thy peace can take away
The grave's dark sorrow and dismay.
The river is at hand,
I see its highest wave:
And how can one so weak
Its stormy torrents brave?
God of Elijah, come once more,
Divide the waters as of yore!
Confirm my feeble faith,
So fearful to advance--
Afraid to trust the word
That never failed me once!
And Christ is in His sovereign right,
The resurrection's Life and Light.
O morning full of peace!
Its light is in the skies;
The prisons of the grave
Shall fall, and never rise:
Nor death nor grave shall then be known,
From dawn till eve, from eve till dawn. __________________________________________________________________
[48]Thomas Williams
It would not be well to pass from him without including this little hymn, so simple in form, and its thought so sunny:
The Tree of Life in barren soil
At length has taken root,
And bends its branches to the ground,
That all may taste its fruit.
Through wintry months of dark and cold,
The fruit is on it still;
Its leaves bring healing to the wounds
Of mind and heart and will.
If on this side the stream we find
The fruit of Christ so good,
It will be better, better far,
The other side the flood.
When strength has failed within my heart,
When human help is past,
In Thine own bosom, Jesu, Lord,
Grant me to rest at last. __________________________________________________________________
Charles O'r Bala
In the good Providence of God the national revival of the eighteenth century was followed by a period of wise constructive energy. After the solemn awakening came the broad and sober reign of education. Catechisms were used largely, and with much profit: theology was organized, and church polity was defined. Among those approved workmen in constructive religion, no name is more honoured than that of CHARLES O'R BALA. The memorable little incident of 'Mary Jones and her Bible' has made him known everywhere as the pioneer and one of the founders of the British and Foreign Bible Society. He was born at Pant-dwvn, in the county of Caermarthen, October 14, 1755, of a respectable family of farmers. He came under the influence of the new religious movement in the days of boyhood, and it left a deep and permanent impression upon his spirit. Having taken his degree at Oxford, he was ordained priest May 21, 1780, and spent the next three years in a curacy at Halifax. Afterwards he returned to Wales, having been appointed to the curacy of Llanymowddwy: but his work there came suddenly to a close. Some of the parishioners, in their zeal for national ignorance, accused him of giving free instruction to the children after vespers. His rector considered this to be such a shocking innovation that he was at once dismissed. Like many another earnest spirit of the time, he had to forsake the Church of his fathers in order to have a free field for his heroic devotion. He publicly joined the Calvinistic Methodist movement, and found the work was 'great and large.' John Newton had asked him to come over to England: but he preferred to stay at home and bear the cross in his native land. His splendid toil in the interest of elementary and religious education, his part in the founding of the Bible Society, his Catechism and Bible Dictionary--both of them still treasures of the household and the Church--need only be mentioned here.
[2] One bitterly cold night in the winter of 1799-80, he was returning over the mountains from Carnarvonshire to Bala, when his hand was bitten by the frost, and a severe illness succeeded. Much prayer was made on his behalf: but in the annals of those prayers nothing is more remarkable than this strange petition of one old Christian--'Fifteen years more, O Lord! We pray for fifteen years to be added to the days of his life; and wilt Thou not grant fifteen years, O our God, for the sake of Thy Church and Thy cause?' Nearly fifteen years later--in the summer of 1814--he told his wife at Barmouth, 'Well, Sali, the fifteen years are nearly up.' A few weeks later, a friend called to see him one morning, and said, 'Well, Mr. Charles, the day of trouble is come!' And he answered, 'There is Refuge!' His first word after that was spoken beyond the veil. What better mapping out of his spiritual course than these verses from his only hymn, written early in the fifteen years' trial? __________________________________________________________________
[49]Charles O'r Bala
O Salvation, full Salvation,
Love's device for man's release!
What can shake the firm foundation
Of this covenant of peace?
Here my soul in trouble resteth,
Here through life is my abode:
When the stormy wind molesteth,
Days of calm have I with God.
Should my health be from me taken,
And my very life be done;
The decree remains unshaken
Made of old by Three in One:
Unremoved the promise liveth,
And the counsel standeth fast;
Unto him, who now believeth
Christ is life, and death is past.
Bitter things are changed to sweetness,
Darkness into clearest day;
Trials give my spirit meetness,
And they soon shall pass away:
By the covenant sustainèd,
Strong in comfort shall I be,
Till my soul at last hath gainèd
What my Father willed for me.
Once, I thought my little vessel
Had the wild waves overpast;
I was in the tranquil haven,
And my anchor had been cast!
Then I cried in fear, 'My Father,
Wilt Thou drive me back again?
In Thy bosom take me rather,
Let me bid farewell to pain!'
'Hush, My child, and wait My leisure,
Know there is no God but Me;
Be at rest in My good pleasure,
Trust My care--My care for thee:
In the struggle I shall hide thee
From the evil hand of foes;
I shall always walk beside thee,
I, thy succour and repose.'
Lord, it is enough for ever,
If Thou only be my God;
For Thy Son didst Thou deliver
To redeem me with His blood:
In His shelter I have hidden,
In the mortal bruise divine;
Be all other joys forbidden,
But the joy that He is mine. __________________________________________________________________
[2] See 'Short Biographies for the People': Thomas Charles, by Rev. Dr. Herber Evans. __________________________________________________________________
David Charles
The youngest brother of the above--Rev. DAVID CHARLES, of Caermarthen--has the Christ-given honour of having written one of the foremost hymns in the language. He was born in 1762; and, like his brother, he was under spiritual impression from early childhood. During the days of his apprenticeship he learnt by heart the whole of Young's Night Thoughts. A book, and an English book, was also the means of helping him to final decision for Christ--the sermons of Ralph Erskine. He spent several years of his young manhood in Bristol; and all these English influences served him well in after years, enabling him to preach effectively in both languages. He preached several times with and for Rowland Hill in Gloucestershire; and twice at least he occupied the famous pulpit of Surrey Chapel. He was a true builder of the churches; and early Methodism in Wales owed a great deal to his soberness and wisdom.
He wrote several hymns, but one has singled itself out from among the rest. The biography of 'O fryniau Caersalem ceir gweled,' like that of the 'Miners' Hymn' already referred to, can only be written in the light of the Home-land. The poet had heard 'the shout of them that triumph,' and he was no longer afraid of the weariness and perplexity of his pilgrimage in the desert. Some day he would reach the cloudless hills of Zion, and look back on the meanderings of the journey, to find that it was the nearest way home. __________________________________________________________________
[50]David Charles
To us from the desert ascending
God giveth in Paradise rest;
Our soul after weary contending
Shall peacefully lean on His breast:
There we shall escape from affliction,
From sin with its shame and its pain;
Enjoying the full benediction,
The love of the Lamb that was slain.
From the hills of the Beautiful City
The way of the desert is clear;
What joy will be there in reviewing
The journey's meanderings here!
To look on the storms as they gather,
On terrible death and the grave;
While we shall be safe with the Father,
In peace on love's shadowless wave.
While dying lips have murmured in anticipation this joy of the heavenly retrospect from the hills of the City, the gate of pearl has opened to many a soul; and the faltering strain of earth has glided imperceptibly into the choral song of seraphim and saints redeemed. __________________________________________________________________