The Singing Church: The Hymns It Wrote and Sang

Chapter XXI
THE SELECTION OF HYMNS

I. SELECTION SHOULD SECURE UNITY OF SERVICE

Next in importance to the minister’s selection of his text comes the selection of his hymns. If he has a clear conception of the real unity of his service, it will appear in this more than in anything else.

Narrow Conception of Unity.

If the minister is a narrow, mechanically-minded man, with a sense of the need of mere logical unity, he will make the subject of his sermon the governing consideration in all parts of his service. The hymns will needs be all or nearly all didactic, the type with the least emotional or inspiring value.

The early hymns of the service will in an ineffective way anticipate the points of his discourse and, in so far as they have effectiveness, weaken by their more lucid and concise statement the discussion in the sermon. As the congregation usually does not know what the topic of the discourse is to be, the pertinency of the selection is not evident. The same is true of the Scripture lesson, if it is read before the long prayer. Logically the whole basis of selection is absurd.

Broader Conception of Unity.

The sermon is simply a co-ordinate part of divine service, not its governing feature to which all things else must be subordinated. The early hymns should not be selected with reference to the theme of the sermon; the last hymn should sum up not so much the ideas of the sermon as its emotional values.

Unity Based on Purpose.

Among heathen people instruction must be the leading purpose of any meeting held for their benefit; but among well-taught Christian people, the chief purpose should be worship, to which the sermon should be simply one of several aids. The hymns should be emotional, worshipful, and not exclusively didactic, and should harmonize with the sermon by being subordinated, with the sermon, to the clearly-conceived worshipful purpose of the entire service. Dr. Austin Phelps, more than three-fourths of a century ago, enunciated the right policy: “It aims at unity of worship, not by sameness of theme, but by resemblance of spirit. It would have a sermon preceded and followed, not necessarily by a hymn on the identical subject, but by a hymn on a kindred subject, pertaining to the same group of thought, lying in the same perspective, and enkindling the same class of emotions.” To announce the theme of the coming sermon in the first hymn, to read a Scriptural passage as a basis for it, to grope around that theme in the prayer, to emphasize another phase in the second hymn, is a case of professional egotism so flagrant that its only shocking mitigation is that it is the accepted clerical estimate of the situation.

Now every service, of whatever form or character, is properly intended to bring the soul into conscious relation with God. Every phase of the soul’s activities is to be brought under the influence of this dominating purpose. As it cannot comprehend God in His completeness at any one moment, different attributes of His nature and the varied relation of these several attributes to manifold human needs furnish an endless abundance of worshipful themes. They will appeal to the understanding through the truth, to the heart through an emotional realization of that truth, and to the will by the choices offered to the soul’s supreme tribunal. Here, then, in this clearly-conceived phase of worshipful attitude, you find the basis for the logical unity of the service—a living unity that moves heart and will as well as reason.

There is in this no fetter to the intellectual activity of the preacher, but rather a fresh stimulus and source of suggestion. It brings to bear vital forces within the speaker’s own soul that too often find little exercise, and changes the emotional elements of the service, the prayer, and the music—now too often mere haphazard, characterless excrescences—into definite sources of power for the realization of the desired spiritual results.

A preacher whose heart is a barometer of the spiritual condition of his people has no difficulty in finding subjects and texts for his sermons. If the needs of his people press upon him, those needs furnish an arc light that illuminates the Bible, and a suggestiveness that brings him an embarrassment of homiletical riches. Given a clear recognition of a definite immediate need and the consequent definite purpose, it will not only make sermonizing easy but will control the rest of the service. Not the theme of the sermon, but the purpose of the service as a whole, will be the organizing vitality.

II. SUGGESTIVE SELECTIONS OF HYMNS

Here is an earnest pastor who is impressed with the growing materialism, or worldliness, of his people. How shall be best dredge the stagnant shallows of their souls? He decides, not upon a single sermon, but upon a series of services with cumulative power, whose whole outlook shall be upon the Person and Character of God as the basis of his claims upon his creatures. There will be sermons upon these high themes of course, but they will call for noble and elevated co-ordinate co-operation in the rest of the service. Now these sermons should all be peculiarly worshipful, but that worship will be set to different keys.

Hymns for Service on God’s Omnipotence.

The sermon on the Divine Omnipotence calls for a noble enthusiasm. The hymns should be majestic and joyful. After profoundly worshipful preliminary exercises it will not be wise to sing Watts’ hymn,

to the tune “Ariel” for the first hymn in spite of its appropriateness of thought: first, because it is not sufficiently elevated, and secondly, because the tune is too light. Watts’ more majestic hymn,

sung to “Old Hundredth,” would be more harmonious with the general purpose of the service. By the time the second hymn is reached there must be some exhilaration of spirit. It will not be desirable therefore to select

first, because it is in exactly the same key of feeling as the previous hymn; second, because for that reason no tune is quite so fitting to it as “Old Hundredth,” which is already provided for; and third, because the presumable intensifying of feeling by this time calls for a brighter text and more spirited music. But it must be a hymn of worship, none the less; we choose, therefore,

the interrupted dactylic measure and triple time tune giving both dignity and movement.

If the prelude was a joyfully majestic composition, the anthem one of elevated praise—e.g., a “Venite” or a “Jubilate”—the responsive reading and the choir responses reverent and worshipful, the long prayer of the preacher exalted with genuine adoration (forgetful of the routine catalogue of petty petitions), and the Scripture passage noble with inspiring truth, the service might close at this point as having already realized its prime object of worship. There must have been something radically wrong in the spirit and management of it, if the preacher does not find his people responsive and himself inspiringly attuned to his noble theme. At the close of his discourse on the Divine Omnipotence, his people will presumably be ready to sing

to the exhilarating movement of the tune “Ariel.” The organist’s postlude will be characterized by a joyful solemnity, some strong maestoso movement.

Hymns for Service on God’s Love.

A service devoted to the worship of God, as manifested in His love, offers a wider range of possibilities. Is it the love manifested in the atonement? there may be the somber element of the crucifixion combined with its nobly elevated aspects; is it the love manifested to His children? there will be a chastened ecstasy in the hymns and prayers; is it the love that consoles and comforts? there will be the tender and sympathetic development of the theme—each will call for its own selection of hymns. As the last is perhaps the most difficult, let us see what program we should prepare for it.

a. Tender Service.

The organ prelude will be soft, sweet music, full of chromatic chords that melt one into the other, or a tender, emotional melody with soft accompaniment. The usual opening doxology will give way to an introit, sung very gently by the choir, set to a text expressing divine sympathy or a prayer for help. The invocation will be a plea for God’s manifest presence among His needy people. The first hymn sung by the congregation will sustain the feeling already established,

sung to the tune “Aletta” or “Pleyel’s Hymn.” The responsive reading may be the forty-second and forty-third Psalms. The choir, having been advised in good time what was desired, sings some sympathetic setting of the twenty-third Psalm, or of the forty-second Psalm, or of the hymn “Just as I am.” If the preacher has kept step in his heart with the emotional progress of his service, the long prayer will be an expression of the need of the people and of a tender appreciation of God’s loving sympathy, closing with an ascription of praise to His limitless love. The people ought now to be ready to sing

After the discourse, a hymn in direct didactic relation to it may be sung in a bright and joyous spirit:

The postlude will be tenderly joyous and sympathetic in style.

There are many preachers whose nervous organizations would not enable them to adjust themselves to so tender an emotional key in developing the service. On the other hand, many congregations would not follow it, but would be lulled to sleep by it.

b. Joyful Service.

They would be entirely right in selecting as the opening hymn one of general praise and worship:

or even the quietly majestic hymn,

The second hymn may be more prayerful and tender:

or

The final hymn may be more didactic:

or the more stirring and forceful

or that wonderful paean of faith in the divine love and providence,

In this case the postlude will be bright and joyous, preferably with some soft and tender episodical passages.

Hymns for a Missionary Service.

The preacher plans a missionary discourse: what is his order of service to be?

That means an aggressive, spiritual program whose purpose is stimulation of enthusiasm, of courage, of conquering faith, of bold decision.

The organist will be asked to play a bright prelude with pronounced but dignified rhythm, and striking harmonic progressions. The anthem by the choir may be based on some text of praise from the Psalms with stirring, somewhat rhythmical music that will stimulate the nerves of the people rather than soothe them. The responsive reading should be a Psalm of triumph, say the ninety-sixth. The long prayer for once may drop out of the omnibus conventionality and lead the people in magnifying the irresistible power and the conquering love of God, with enough reference to current sorrows in the congregation to serve as a contrast, to make the realization of the strong right arm of God more vivid.

The hymns should be in keeping with this joyous recognition of God’s invincibility and assured triumph.

The first hymn may be Charles Wesley’s “Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing.” This is worship—mingled with faith and with aggressive purpose, it is true, but nevertheless distinctly worship.

An equally appropriate selection from Charles Wesley would be “Ye servants of God, your Master proclaim.” Care should be taken that the tune used for either is vigorous and well known. A dull tune for either would be a stumble on the threshold of the service.

The point in the service has not yet been reached where a distinctly missionary hymn is called for; aggressiveness in the Lord’s service is still the mood to be created. There would be a choice between Shurtleff’s vigorous “Lead on, O King Eternal,” with its specific dedication of self to any forward movement of the Christian Church, or Baring-Gould’s marching hymn with its American tune written by an English composer, “Onward, Christian soldiers,” which can hardly fail to stimulate the pulses of a presumably already stirred congregation, unless it is sung in a drawling, unaccented way.

If by this time the congregation is not prepared to be thrilled by an unexpected missionary sermon, eloquent with an appeal hardly to be equaled by any other topic connected with the Church’s activities, there has been something wrong with the preacher or his people.

At the close of the sermon the hearts of the people will be glad to express themselves either in Smith’s “The morning light is breaking,” or in Watts’ noble Christianized version of the seventy-second Psalm, “Jesus shall reign where’er the sun.” For once the organist can pull out all his stops and play a brilliant but not flippant postlude without disturbing the mind and nerves of thoughtful and devout people.

In these suggested programs it has been evident that the unity is one of feeling and not of logic. This gave room for the interest which the unexpected supplies. There must be progress of feeling as well as of thought. The long prayer or the music after it, be it organ or choir or hymn, should be the climax of emotion. It should be allowed to subside a little during the announcements and offering, in order to rise to a still higher climax in the sermon and closing hymn.

In a tender, sympathetic service there is more danger of not taking the audience with you. If the music and the feelings suggested by the hymns are too quiet and depressing, there is danger of its acting as a lullaby, putting the people to sleep. Many a preacher wonders why some of his hearers are asleep before his text is fairly announced. In nine cases out of ten, it is due to the depressing character of the music used in the devotional part of the service.

III. IMPORTANCE OF THE TUNES

As has been incidentally suggested in the course of the illustrative progress, no small importance is to be attached to the selection of the tunes to be used with the hymns. The preacher cannot always afford to trust the compiler of the hymnal which he uses. That learned gentleman does not know what tune the preacher’s people can sing with a given hymn to the best advantage. He has to meet the difficulty of providing every hymn with an appropriate tune without having well-known and effective tunes enough to go round; he cannot repeat them over and over, but must use less popular tunes. Who shall judge him harshly, therefore, if in this dilemma he occasionally follows his own personal taste rather than the vaguely conceived needs of miscellaneous congregations.

But the minister must study the tunes in his hymnal lest he limit his song service to the small number he happens to know well. To use a dozen or so tunes again and again will cut the nerve of musical interest in his musical helpers and in his congregation as well.

Hence, it is the minister’s task to re-edit the hymnal in part, remating hymns and tunes in order to secure the greatest results with his own people. Nor need he suffer with a sense of presumption. The important consideration is the results of the singing of hymns in an effective way, not loyalty to his church hymnal at the expense of those results.

Chapter XXI
THE ANNOUNCEMENT AND TREATMENT OF HYMNS

I. THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF HYMNS

It may seem quite superfluous to give any attention to the mere announcement of hymns; but in many cases the spiritual success or failure of the congregational song is determined there. It is generally assumed that any one can announce a hymn and initiate its singing, but probably the least successful work of ninety-nine out of a hundred ministers is their management of the service of song in their churches. The writer remembers one minister who would baldly announce the number and then turn round and stare at the choir and organist until they began to sing. The awkwardness and helplessness of the man invariably produced a most unfortunate effect upon the congregation. Many ministers announce the number and read the first line. It makes no difference whether the first line is complete in meaning or not; they have identified the hymn.

Like a great many others of their professional brethren, they used the hymn perfunctorily as a traditionally necessary part of the service, with which they really had little or nothing to do; that it has any relation to the needs or the objects they have in view for the service does not occur to them. The unpardonableness of an aimless sermon need not be emphasized, but why should it be easier to forgive a preacher for aimlessly selecting and announcing hymns?

Many churches have hymn boards and even bulletins, making the mechanical interruption caused by the preacher’s announcement of the numbers unnecessary. The people presumably have found the hymn by the time the tune is played through.[1]

Of course, if these devices for announcing the hymn are absent, the preacher must announce the number. If he does so in a listless, mechanical way, he will unconsciously give the congregation an unfortunate emotional keynote, and, in turn, it will sing in a listless, mechanical way. The psychical and emotional value of the singing of the hymn is already discounted. If it has been announced in a joyous, or, at least, in an interested spirit, with only a happy phrase or two, giving a cue to the spirit in which it is to be sung, the congregation will respond in kind. Twenty seconds of effective introduction will make the difference between success and failure.

It should be emphasized that a live preacher will not allow the regular order of service to prevent needed comment on the hymn as it is needed. The order of service has advantages, but if it robs the preacher of freedom and spontaneity, it becomes a curse. Too rigidly followed it makes for dullness and boredom. The congregation should not be allowed to feel that any departure from it is a doubtful liberty on the part of the preacher. Opportunity should be made to dispel any such idea.

If a hymn is curtly announced, or courteously suggested with a “please” or a “kindly” (as if to sing it were a special favor to the preacher), and if no hint is given as to the message to be conveyed, or as to the feeling which is to be expressed, how can the minister hope that the merely improvised singing of an unexpected hymn, perhaps with an unknown tune, will have any stimulating, not to say spiritual, value? If the hymn is well known, it is probably a great hymn, and what gathering of saints can rise at a moment’s notice to its spiritual altitude?

What intelligent minister would presume suddenly to ask a trained elocutionist to read to his audience a poem he had never before seen? Or what honest lawyer would ask a client to sign a legal paper involving obligations without explanations or previous reading? Yet, every Sunday, congregations are asked to sing hymns they have never noticed, expressing they know not what sentiments, promises, or consecrations, in the most solemn and exalted manner. Is it ethical? Is it efficient?

II. THE TREATMENT OF HYMNS

If a congregation is to sing a hymn, not thoughtlessly and mechanically, but intelligently and with feeling, it must be prepared for the devout exercise. It is the minister’s task to tune his people up for the individual hymn, and create the habit of finding meaning and genuine feeling in all the hymns they sing. Stupid singing is a habit: why not create a habit of singing thoughtfully and feelingly?

That may be done; but it cannot be done overnight. It will call for persistent training, for a wealth of resources, and for an unbroken attitude of genuineness of emotion on the part of the preacher. It is no small undertaking to transform sleepy church members into sons of praise.

We may add to the obligations involved still another. If the hymn to be sung is not merely didactic or meditative, but distinctly emotional in character, is it not the preacher’s duty to create in those who are to sing at least the beginnings of the emotions he asks them to voice?

A rapid sketch of blind Matheson’s experience before writing “O Love that wilt not let me go” will set the heartstrings of the congregation quivering in the emotional key of the hymn. A vivid picture of the death of Christ on the cross in a dozen sentences will inspire a preacher’s people to sing “Beneath the cross of Jesus” with genuine emotion. Drawing a picture with rapid touches of the charge of the Light Brigade as it went to its death at Balaklava, and quoting a few lines of Tennyson’s poem, will stir the pulses for the singing of “Lead on, O King Eternal.” “Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire” may be introduced by a few tender sentences on the vital necessity of prayer to a sincere Christian. A minute’s resume of the influence of the cross of Christ on an individual life, or on the upward sweep of the human race under its influence, will give the people a clue to “In the cross of Christ I glory.” The tender aspect of the atonement made by Christ for sin may be solemnly suggested before singing “Alas, and did my Saviour bleed?”

Where a hymn has allusions not likely to be recognized by the average singer, they ought to be made plain. How many of the millions who have sung the well-known hymn, “Come, thou Fount of every blessing,” knew what the word “Ebenezer” signified? Striking phrases, packed with deep thought and feeling, like Matheson’s

should have their treasures brought to light, lest the average churchgoer should overlook them. In other words, there should be a rapid exposition of unusual and also of over-familiar hymns, so that the congregation may sing with its mind and heart.

The range of possible comment is so wide, and the opportunity of using it is so limited, that only the most striking and impressive illustrations should be considered for actual use. Rhetorical and anecdotal illustrations should be used sparingly—only when they promote an exalted and distinctly spiritual state of mind. They are apt to be prolix, to distract the mind from spiritual contemplation. They are permissible with joyous, aggressive, victorious hymns rather than with those that are tender, emotional, subjective.

The inexorable limitations of time must always be borne in mind. When a hymn is announced the people expect to sing, not to listen to a hymnological dissertation or to a long-winded anecdote. The simile or metaphor, or other oratorical comment, must explode with a very short fuse of preliminary remark. The anecdote must be compact, shorn of unessential preface or background, and reach its peak of interest, or of appeal to feeling, with the succinctness of an epigram. Better limit the illustrations and comments to those that can gracefully and lucidly be uttered in one or rarely two minutes.

Discussions and illustrations of hymns are often confined to the hymns as hymns, which is rarely necessary. It is not the hymn that needs emphasis, much less its writer: it is the message, the burden, the feeling of the hymn that is to be enforced. An instance of the saving of a “down and outer” from the Jerry McAuley mission in New York, or the Pacific Garden mission in Chicago, will create more responsiveness to “Rescue the Perishing” than biographical facts about Fanny Crosby or about the composer, W. Howard Doane. The anecdote of missionary success from the last missionary bulletin or magazine will lead a Congregation to sing “Jesus shall reign where’er the sun” more enthusiastically than an explanation of Watts’ having metricized the seventy-second Psalm with a free hand, making the Jew, David, sing like a Christian. Illustrating the sense rather than the form of the hymn will be found very much more thrilling to the people.

In evening services of song, or in midweek lectures, historical backgrounds will be very helpful and interesting. A series of lectures on the great hymns of the Church, or even a general survey of the development of our Christian hymnody, will lay the foundations of a more intelligent song.

In such services, anecdotal illustrations may have a large place. They need not be emotional under such circumstances, just so they add interest and understanding.

As an occasional variation in the introduction of the hymn, why not have the congregation read it? “It is not done?” All the more reason for doing it! They will get more actual values out of the reading of the hymn and its subsequent singing than in any other way; the very unusualness of the method will give additional effectiveness. Single stanzas can be most impressively treated in this manner. In singing Isaac Watts’ great hymn, “When I survey the wondrous cross,” ask the people to read the third verse softly,

and then sing it very softly and note the effect.

The same method may be used with Mrs. Alexander’s children’s hymn, “There is a green hill far away,” which adults have adopted for their own; have them read the last verse,

and then sing it quite emotionally.

A great many people deprecate the minister’s reading of the hymns. But that is because so few ministers are able to read hymns with any degree of impressiveness or reality. Perhaps half the ministers who read them leave no desirable impression whatever as the result, for the reading has been without even a thoughtful sense of the meaning of the hymn, much less of its emotional force. To allow one’s voice to fall at the end of every line, or to make a habit of having a rising inflection at the end of each first line and a falling at the end of each second, without variation, is so vile, from an elocutionary standpoint, that one cannot wonder that the general congregation prefers its omission.

On the other hand, if the minister’s mind and heart are profoundly awake to the thought and feeling of the hymn that is to be used, if the minister has a definite purpose which he wishes to realize through the singing of that hymn, if the whole song service is thoroughly vital and earnest, he cannot help reading the hymn in such a way as to impress and interest his people. One need not be a well-trained elocutionist to do this. The genuine feeling will develop a natural elocution and will even neutralize faulty habits and mannerisms of reading that would otherwise make it unendurable.

The fact that the hymn is a familiar one may be only an additional reason for reading it, instead of being an imperative reason for omitting its reading. As coins long in circulation often lose their superscription, these familiar words often lose their meaning and reality by constant use, and these may be restored by intelligent and emotional reading.

A mere habit of reading a hymn through is sheer mechanism, the fatal enemy of interest. The situation, the purpose in view, the character of the service and the time allotted to it, even the preacher’s own passing mood—all are factors that need to be considered.

At this point it is well to drop a word of warning against the unintelligent omission of verses. Some ministers invariably restrict the number to be sung to three or four. If there are five verses, they invariably omit the fourth, or announce, “We will sing the first three verses,” no matter what the development of thought may be. One of the most painful manifestations of ministerial thoughtlessness and indifference to the congregation’s share of the service, is this brutal mutilation of the hymns. The preacher wishes a little more time for his sermon, so he robs God and his people of some of their worship by singing the pitiful remains of a hymn he has deprived of its unity, its progress of thought, and perhaps of its best stanzas. Or he has preached too long and closes with a single verse of some great hymn, unwittingly losing the best climax his sermon could have had. Because of the same egotism and his obsequious regard for the tyranny of the dinner hour, he cuts out the reading and proper introductions of his hymns throughout the service.

The irony of the situation is that by this neglect of his hymns the preacher fails to create the enthusiasm and responsiveness of his hearers essential to the larger success of his sermon. “There is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty.” (Prov. 11:24.)

It may well be that some of the ministers who read this practical section will throw up their hands at the idea of working out the rather daunting array of suggestions for exploiting the hymn in their church work. The pastor’s task is such a varied one, with such a mass of details, all of seeming importance, that he is in danger of wasting time on comparative trifles, of “puttering” around, feeling very busy while accomplishing little. A common remark at the close of the day is, “I’ve been busy as a nailer all day and can’t see that I have accomplished anything!”

It is this time that is lost by lack of concentration which could quite comfortably be devoted to hymnological studies. The difficulty in most cases is not lack of time, but lack of interest, lack of realization as to how great a contribution the hymn service can make to the success of his work.

God has put into the throat of every member of this preacher’s congregation a marvelous musical instrument with a wide range of tones and of extremely appealing cadences, of great power to express the emotions of the heart of the singer, and to suggest and stimulate the feelings of the minds and hearts of the hearers: is the minister justified in neglecting the opportunity it offers to arouse and quicken the mental and spiritual natures of the people for whose religious life he is responsible?

Is it not a crying piece of egotism, in view of the proven efficiency of hymn singing, to depend exclusively on his own preaching for the realization of the spiritual ends to which his life is devoted? When ministers realize the positive power the hymn service can exert, they will not begrudge the occasional hours for studying and planning it which are necessary to its full success. That success will create

A SINGING CHURCH

EPILOGUE

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Eccl. 12:7.

In traversing the long history of the human use of song in religious services, rites, and ceremonies, we have found that

1. The hymn has been recognized in every age, in every generation, by every race, whether savage or cultured, under every sky, as an expression of religious emotion, and as the generator of such emotion.

2. Religious emotions are of various types. It may be the earnestness of strong conviction; it may be the hot indignation against sin and evil, against neglect of the soul’s highest obligations. It may be the depressing sense of conscious unworthiness, rising into repentance for sin, into the tenderness of grateful recognition of the divine love and forgiving grace, expressed in tears, joy over the assurance of salvation expressed in beaming countenance or in ejaculations of delight, or even in shouts of victory. The human heart becomes an Æolian harp from which the winds of the Spirit of God evoke an infinitude of melodies, grave and solemn, tender and sweet, joyous and triumphant, or vigorous and inspiring,—a very symphonic orchestra.

3. As an expression of religious emotion the hymn has been effective in moving the human will, stubborn in its revolt against God, by intensifying the mental and spiritual power of religious ideas.

4. The religious idea is primary, of course, but its emotional response in the heart gives it vitality. It is the team of idea and its normal emotion that exerts the power of the hymn. An abstract idea, abstract because its emotional reflex has been abstracted, has no motive power.

5. In the effective use of the hymn the clear apprehension of its ideas must be enforced by the vital reproduction of the original emotion of its writer which urged its composure. A dry hymn written without vitalizing feeling has no power to inspire; it gives no sense of reality. Dry sermons, not pollinated by emotional vigor, can bear no fruit. The effectiveness of sermon or hymn will be determined by the intensity of the feeling behind it.

6. The emotional appeal must be genuine, both writer and singer must be sincere. Artificial emotion, the mere pretense of a feeling that does not exist, has no power. It is not merely unappealing, it is offensive.

7. But emotion necessarily implies an intelligence and a susceptibility to be moved—in other words, a personality. It also implies that one person’s feelings can call forth like emotions in other persons. The merely outward expression may even create a like emotion among others who do not fully apprehend the primary idea that set the original emotion to vibrating, creating a very contagion of feeling.

8. It follows that in actual aggressive work, largely depending on emotional transmission, the minister or the leader must supply the initiating impulse. If the minister has a dry mind—there are ministers who desiccate every topic they discuss—religious ideas suffer a blight of aridity, killing all sense of reality, this sense of reality being the sine qua non of all spiritual effectiveness. If he is fortunate in having a vivid imagination and a heart responsive to religious truth, he can multiply his mental gifts twentyfold by intensifying the truths he expresses.

9. Treated in this way, the hymn becomes the peer of the sermon in influencing power, and assures the minister eager for spiritual results a large harvest of souls, saved and spiritualized.

REFERENCES AND NOTES

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II