Fight the Good Fight

Praise for the Lord #152

Words: John S. B. Monsell, 1853
Music: William Boyd, 1864

John Samuel Bewley Monsell (1811-1875) was an Irish Anglican born at St. Columb's, Londonderry, the son of Archdeacon of Londonderry Thomas Bewley Monsell. He attended Trinity College in Dublin, receiving a doctorate in 1856, and served parishes in Ireland and England (Julian 762). Monsell was a prolific writer, producing eleven volumes of poetry between 1837 and 1874, with approximately 300 hymns to his credit (Julian 762). According to the instances listed at Hymnary.org, his most popular work by far is the hymn under discussion, as well as "Worship the Lord in the Beauty of Holiness," both found in many hymnals published in our century. Other still popular hymns by Monsell include "Sing to the Lord of Harvest" and "Ask Ye what Great Thing I Know."

John Julian said of Monsell's hymns,

Dr. Monsell's hymns are as a whole bright, joyous, and musical; but they lack massiveness, concentration of thought, and strong emotion. A few only are of enduring excellence (763).  

For Julian, in my experience, this is nearly a compliment! D. J. O'Donoghue, writing in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, stated it in kinder fashion: "He urged that hymns should be fervent and joyous, and that congregations should abandon their sense of distance and reserve in singing." Monsell himself was characteristically modest about his abilities, stating with wry humor in the preface to one of his hymnals:

The Parish Hymnal claims, above those Hymnals which have preceded it, these advantages only: i. It is the latest; ii. The simplest; iii. The shortest extant (Monsell PH 1873).

But his earnest commitment to hymn-singing, as well as his bright, cheery nature, is evident from the preface to the work in which "Fight the Good Fight" appears:

The following Hymns were written to illustrate an idea which has long filled their author's mind, that such portions of our Divine worship should be more fervent and joyous, more expressive of real and personal love to God than they are in general found to be.

We are, alas! too distant and reserved in our praises. We sing not, as if our hearts were on fire with the flame of Divine love and joy; as we should sing to Him, and of Him, Who is Chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely. If we loved Him as we ought to do, we could not be so cold.

Toward the removal of this dulness and formality, few things are more helpful than glowing tender Hymns; they quicken as well as convey the desires of the soul, they say for us what many are unable to say for themselves, what a lifted eye, a voiceless breathing, has often said to God for us all; and in the use of them the spirit catches their heavenly fervour, and  draws nearer to Him it is adoring (Hymns of Love and Praise for the Church's Year, London: Bell and Daldy, 1862, preface). 

With respect to Dr. Julian's exacting critical opinion, I believe a careful look at this hymn by Monsell reveals not only a cheery and positive attitude, but a solid intellectual and doctrinal underpinning based on Scripture. It is an admirable combination.

St. John's Church, Egham, where
Monsell served as vicar 1853-1870.
Photo by Michael Ford, Wikimedia Commons. 

Stanza 1:
Fight the good fight 
With all thy might; 
Christ is thy strength, and Christ thy right;
Lay hold on life, and it shall be
Thy joy and crown eternally.

The first line is a direct quotation of Paul's command to Timothy in 1 Timothy 6:12, and ties as well to Paul's self-description in 2 Timothy 4:7. This pair of related texts are central to the hymn, with recurring ideas in the succeeding stanzas.

Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses (1 Timothy 6:12). 

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith (2 Timothy 4:7).

The Greco-Roman world of Paul's upbringing was as sports-minded as any culture today, and his home town Tarsus was no exception, having a stadium by the river Cydnus where games were periodically held (Taylor 5). Not surprisingly, Paul frequently borrows the language of competitive sports to illustrate aspects of the Christian life. In 1 Corinthians 9:26 he even refers to literal fighting as sport, drawing on the difference between training and the actual match: "I do not box as one beating the air." The kind of "fighting" he describes in the letters to Timothy is a different word in Greek, agōnizomai, which is obviously related to our English words "agony" and "agonize," depicting a sustained, punishing effort that requires both physical and mental toughness. In the context of boxing, I am reminded of Muhammad Ali's famous "rope-a-dope" strategy, in which he fought defensively through several rounds until his opponent had tired himself out, counting on his own reserves of strength and determination to bring about a late victory.

Monsell, quoting Paul, reminds us that this is the Christian life--it is never a first-round knockout, you have to fight all the way to the end. Paul could speak of his fight in the past tense in 2 Timothy 4:7, because he knew he was near the end of his life and could do little more. The rest of us need to keep our heads in the game. How often have you seen an immature team become careless because they had built up a lead in the score, and then lose the game to an opponent that found a second wind? We need to be prepared for a long, hard fight, for however long our Lord sees fit to leave us in the game.

This fight, says Monsell's hymn, must be fought with all our might. Fortunately it is not our might alone that is involved--Christ is our strength. Perhaps the author had in mind Paul's statements on this topic in Ephesians and Colossians, two letters that so often run in parallel thoughts:

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father ... that according to the riches of His glory He may grant you to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in your inner being (Ephesians 3:14, 16). 

We have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be ... strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy (Colossians 1:9, 11).

Paul knew what it was to need this strengthening. Though his writing can give us the image of a strong, confident man with an overpowering personality, the same Paul admitted to the Corinthians that "I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling" (1 Corinthians 2:3). He was not a superman--he was just a man who relied on the Lord's strength in spite of his own weakness. In a far more dire situation in Rome, he informs Timothy of a similar situation:

At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion's mouth (2 Timothy 4:16-17).

To Paul, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13) was much more than a motivational poster; it was how he survived day to day, hour to hour.

The third line of the stanza makes a turn from the admonition to fight, to the prize for which we fight: not only is Christ our strength to fight, He is also the source of the "right" or righteousness to which we aspire. Paul wanted this: "[to] be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith" (Philippians 3:9). Jesus "became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption" (1 Corinthians 1:30).

The end result of this fight is found in the second half of 1 Timothy 6:12, to "lay hold on eternal life." A little later in the chapter Paul expands on that theme, telling Timothy to admonish the Christians (the well-to-do especially) to make this their aim, rather than any lesser goal found in this life only:

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life (1 Timothy 6:17-19).

Now by the circumstances of the life he had chosen, Paul was not likely to be tempted to turn back from his goal by mere material wealth. No, his struggles were with his own past--Paul, formerly Saul, described himself as once a "blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent" (1 Timothy 1:13), who "was convinced that I ought to do many things in opposing the name of Jesus of Nazareth" (Acts 26:9). Paul could not undo those things in his past, no matter how he wished he might; but instead of being paralyzed by the past, he "laid hold" on the future his Lord had promised, and fought on.

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:12-14).

In the Christian race, as in many athletic competitions, it is more important how we finish than how we began.

Stanza 2: 
Run the straight race 
Through God's good grace,
Lift up thine eyes, and seek His face;
Life with its way before us lies:
Christ is the path, and Christ the prize.

The second stanza of Monsell's hymn probably refers to another of Paul's passages regarding one of the favorite Greco-Roman sports, the foot race.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable (1 Corinthians 9:24-25).

The Corinthians would have ample reason to relate to this topic, since their city hosted the Isthmian Games, one of the premier athletic and musical competitions of the ancient world. The city's location at a land and sea crossroads drew famous competitors from all of Greece, and it was understandably a major part of civic life (Taylor 10).

Paul's quote implies the need for correct training, but adherence to the rules was also necessary to win; judges were chosen from among the most respected and prominent citizens of the community, and cheating was met with disdain. In Galatians 2:2 Paul explains that he discussed the gospel with the other apostles he met in Jerusalem, "in order to make sure I was not running or had not run in vain." This is the "straight race" of which Monsell writes, because it is possible to run in vain. Paul applies the metaphor to the Galatians themselves later, sounding very much like a frustrated coach: "You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?" (Galatians 5:7).

The hymn encourages us to avoid missteps by lifting up our eyes. It seems obvious enough that we should look up when running, but I have had the unfortunate experience of running into trees, fences, and even a parked truck while jogging at night, because I tend to stare at the road right in front of me and let my attention drift off. Metaphorically speaking, this is even more common in daily living. It is not necessarily a major setback that will throw us off course (we may in fact draw closer to God under severe trials), but rather, the frustrations small and large that face us every day make it difficult to keep our eyes on the goal. We need to be reminded of what we are doing; as the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews says (I almost wrote "as Paul says" since it sounds so much like him):

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us (Hebrews 12:1).

When we remember why we are really here, we begin to seek that true path again, focusing on our goal--Jesus Christ. He is the goal we seek to meet someday in heaven, and He is the goal we seek (always imperfectly) to imitate. Not only is He the prize, He is also the path, because He is "Way, the Truth, and the Life" (John 14:6). In His perfect life He shows us where we are headed, how to get there, and what to strive to become along the way.

Stanza 3: 
Cast care aside, 
Upon thy Guide
Lean, and His mercy will provide;
Lean, and the trusting soul shall prove
Christ is its life, and Christ its love.

The third stanza opens with a reference to the admonition of Peter:

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your cares upon Him, because He cares for you (1 Peter 5:6-7). 

It is such a beautiful Scripture, it is easy to miss the fact that it is a command! The same is true of Paul's well known statement,

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God (Philippians 4:6). 

The words of Jesus are also imperative in Matthew 6:25, "Do not be anxious!"

As my friend and brother Eddie Parrish has said many times from the pulpit, this has to be one of the most ignored commands Jesus ever gave, at least among Christians. I wish I could say he was talking about someone else. I have clung to my worries as desperately as an alcoholic holds on to his bottle. Like many an alcoholic, I have tried to do better, and fallen back into it, even though I know it is hurting me and everyone who loves. I'm not saying it is the same, because the mechanisms of addiction are at work in the one and not in the other; but it is convicting that I would recognize the seriousness of the struggle with alcohol and yet turn a blind eye to worry and anxiety as a "little sin." God help us to recognize our failings in this area personally, and to support one another in overcoming this sin by God's help.

The Psalms in particular are full of language about God as our Guide and Leader. Perhaps David's experiences leading his sheep, and later leading his army, made him especially aware of the need for careful guidance in finding the right paths, which set this trend in the Psalter's description of God.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake (23:2-3).

He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble His way (25:9).

For You are my Rock and my Fortress; and for Your name's sake You lead me and guide me (31:3).

You guide me with Your counsel, and afterward You will receive me to glory (73:24).

Instead of trusting our own wisdom and strength, Monsell's hymn tells us to lean upon God. No doubt the most often quoted verse on this subject is Proverbs 3:5,

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
And do not lean on your own understanding.

Along the same line of thought is this unusual proverb from Isaiah 50:10,

Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the voice of His Servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God. 

The quote from Proverbs tells us that just as a general principle, we should lean on God and not on ourselves. How much more so when we are in the darkness of uncertainty? Here is the help we need against worry and care--a God who is there, even when we cannot see the way ahead.

The second half of the stanza reminds us of the strength and security of that upon which we lean and trust. "God will provide" echoes down through the ages, from Abraham on Mount Moriah when he declares in faith, "God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering" in place of Abraham's precious son Isaac. (How heavily those words and that scene should rest on us who view them from this side of the Cross!) God still provides. No matter how we are tempted in this world to think we provide for ourselves, Paul reminds the well-to-do "not to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy" (1 Timothy 6:17). Rather than trusting in ourselves or our own achievements, we need to trust in His promises and grow in the graces He sets before us as our goals; "for in this way there will be richly provide for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" (2 Peter 1:11).

In the final lines of this stanza we read that for the soul leaning upon God, "Christ is its life, and Christ its love." This is a goal far in advance of most of us (certainly myself), but one for which we strive. Paul could say that he had reached it--"for me, to live is Christ" (Philippians 1:21)--but after how many years of struggle? We know from Romans chapter 7 that Paul struggled as we all do with sins that threatened to draw him away from his course, but we are confident from his inspired words that he achieved his goal, a life in which Christ was all that mattered. God grant us all such an end!

Stanza 4:
Faint not, nor fear, 
His arms are near;
He changeth not, and thou art dear;
Only believe, and thou shalt see
That Christ is all in all to thee.

Monsell concludes his hymn with a final appeal to renewed courage and activity. Paul addressed this topic often, reminding the Galatians,

Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up (6:9). 

It was a message for the individual Christian, and for the church as a whole; to the Thessalonian church Paul to "encourage the fainthearted" (1 Thessalonians 5:14) as well. But the call for Christian renewal is not just a hollow pep talk of positive thinking. This endurance is based on something much greater than ourselves and our own abilities:

Consider Him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted (Hebrews 12:3). 

Our capacity for renewal relies (thankfully) in One whose mercies are "new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). Isaiah addressed this topic beautifully in a well known passage:

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might He increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:28-31).

Because God "changeth not" we need not fear change, whether in the world around us or in our personal lives.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day (2 Corinthians 4:16). 

Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet (Hebrews 12:12-13b). 

The race lies clearly before us, and Jesus Christ who "fills all in all" will provide us the strength to reach the goal.

About the music:

William Boyd (1847-1928), an Anglican vicar by profession, had the unusual fortune to write one famous hymn tune--PENTECOST--which became so associated with him that his obituary in the London Times was headlined "The Rev. William Boyd: composer of a famous hymn tune." Born in Jamaica to Scottish parents, he was tutored by Sabine Baring-Gould (author of "Onward, Christian soldiers), and came to be friends with such musical worthies as Sir Arthur Sullivan (who wrote the tune for Baring-Gould's famous hymn) (Times obituary).

Though I ordinarily refrain from extensive quoting of another's work, in this case I can present no better background to this hymn tune than what was given by the composer in an interview published in The Musical Times (1 December 1908, pages 786-787):

The Rev. William Boyd, who comes from old Scots stock of lowland border thieves--as he is wont to say--and is now Vicar of All Saints', Norfolk Square, Hyde Park, has been kind enough in pleasant conversation with the present writer, to tell the story of his popular tune. "I began to compose," he says, "when I was a boy of ten years of age. Some of my youthful attempts you will find in Iceland, its scenes and sagas (1863), by Baring-Gould. He was my tutor at Hurstpierpoint, and during his stay in Iceland (in 1862) he wrote to me often, exemplifying his letters by characteristic pen-and-ink sketches to describe men and things. For that his first book, I put into harmonized shape some of the tunes he had noted down during his Icelandic tour. I went up to Oxford in 1864, and was organ scholar of my college (Worcester), and I also played at St. Edmund Hall, Trinity and Pembroke."

"Baring-Gould asked me to compose a tune to 'Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,' to be sung at a large meeting of Yorkshire colliers at Whitsuntide which he had organized. I walked, talked, slept and ate with the words, and at last I evolved the tune which I naturally named 'Pentecost,' which had an enormous vogue in Yorkshire. One day, during my undergraduate period at Oxford, G. A. B. Beecroft, a Christ Church man and an amateur musician, came to me and said: 'I want some fellows who write hymn tunes above the average to contribute to a book I am getting up--write me three.' I agreed and sent him four tunes from Clent, in Worcestershire, where I was spending Christmas with my friend John Amphlett--now a well-known literary figure in the country. One of these tunes was 'Pentecost,' which I had previously composed for Baring-Gould but which remained in manuscript. Beecroft's collection was published by Bowden, of Oxford, in the sixties."

"How came the tune to be associated with 'Fight the good fight'?" we ask Mr. Boyd. "Ah! that is a funny thing," he replies. "One day as I was walking Regent Street, I felt a slap on my back, and turning round I saw my dear old friend Arthur Sullivan. 'My dear Billy,' he said, 'I've seen a tune of yours which I must have.' (He was then editing Church Hymns.) 'All right,' I said, 'Send me a cheque and I agree.' No copy of the book, much less a proof, was sent to me, and when I saw the tune I was horrified to find that Sullivan had assigned it to 'Fight the good fight'! We had a regular fisticuffs about it, but judging from the favour with which the tune has been received, I feel that Sullivan was right in so mating words and music."

"The tune was printed in the 1875 edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern without my permission. In their last edition they turned me out, also without my permission. Still they had to come back, I rejoice to say, for people said 'the old was better.' Since then it has found its way into most collections, Church of England and Nonconformist, and has gone all over the English-speaking world. There is hardly a week that I do not get a couple of letters from far or near asking me to allow of its insertion in some new publication. And I do, in most cases, allow it, but with the proviso that the tune must be set to the words 'Fight the good fight'."

William Boyd, 1847-1928

---

References:

Taylor, Elias L. "The Christian Marathoner: Athletic References in Paul's Epistles." Journal of Arts and Humanities, vol. 4, no. 11, 2015.
https://www.theartsjournal.org/index.php/site/article/view/814/421

"Fight the good fight." The Musical Times (London), no. 790,  vol. 49 (1 December 1908), pages 786-788.
https://books.google.com/books?id=xyk5AQAAMAAJ&pg=PA786#v=onepage&q&f=false

Julian, John. A Dictionary of Hymnology. New York: Dover, 1957.

Monsell, John S. B. Hymns of Love and Praise for the Church Year. London: Bell and Daldy, 1863. https://archive.org/details/hymnsloveandpra01monsgoog/

Monsell, John S. B., editor. The Parish Hymnal. London: Bell and Daldy, 1873.
https://hdl.handle.net/2027/hvd.32044077927366?urlappend=%3Bseq=53

O'Donoghue, D. J. "Monsell, John Samuel Bewley," revised by Leon Litvack. Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Published online 2009. https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/18982

"The Rev. William Boyd." Times (London), 17 Feb. 1928, page 19. From The Times Digital Archive, accessed 13 May 2019.

Follow Me

Praise for the Lord #150

Words & Music by Ira F. Stanphill, 1953

By the 1940s the Southern gospel music phenomenon was transitioning from the traveling singing-school teachers, selling their songbooks at country churches from the trunk of a car, to well-organized singing conventions advertised on radio by nationally famous quartets. A new generation of songwriters was coming of age as well, such as Mosie Lister (1921-2015), Vep Ellis (1917-1988), Lee Roy Abernathy (1913-1933), Elmo Mercer (born 1932 but with a career starting in his teens), and the author of the song under consideration, Ira Forest Stanphill (1914-1993). Having grown up with radio, and thus being familiar with a broad range of American popular music, they often wrote songs that were as effective as solos on the radio or in concert as they were for congregational singing. The emerging generational difference in Southern gospel was highlighted in the disappointing assessment Frank Stamps delivered to a young Ira Stanphill: "Ira, these pieces don't really fit into our publishing standards. They aren't Southern gospel. That's not to say that they aren't good; it's just that they... they don't fit our mold" (Stanphill 44). Despite this gentle rejection (and others less so), Stanphill stuck to his muse and eventually found widespread success. His "Follow me," "Room at the cross," and "I know who holds tomorrow" are prime examples of this new gospel style and have even been recorded by secular artists.

Ira Stanphill (photo from CyberHymnal)

The occasion of writing "Follow me" was told by Stanphill in an interview summarized by Lindsay Terry in his Stories Behind 50 Southern Gospel Favorites. Stanphill had attended a missionary conference in Grand Prairie, Texas, where he heard the famous Assemblies of God missionary Charles Greenaway speak of the difficulties he and his wife Mary had faced in their early years in Africa. At one point, Greenaway indicated, the slow progress of the work, and Mary's chronically poor health, had brought him to the point of admitting defeat. But after a time in prayer, he believed that he had received his answer from the Lord: "Why don't you just follow Me, and leave the results in My hands?" (Though I do not subscribe to the belief in modern-day direct revelation, I can understand the sentiment, which after all could be a paraphrase of Jesus' words to Peter in John 22.) Ira Stanphill, who had faced a great deal of heartbreak and discouragement in his own life from his troubled first marriage (Gaer 8, 25), was deeply moved by Greenaway's words. He took the words "Follow me" as inspiration and wrote the song the next morning (Terry 1:131).

"Follow me" is one of those songs that I have changed my mind about over the years. At first encounter it seemed to be one of those gospel songs that follow what could be called the "Oh poor me" trope, in which the writer describes a life of misery and unfairness. (Granting of course that for some people life is in fact full of misery and unfairness, this seems a disturbingly frequent theme in the genre.) I was somewhat chagrined when, with a more mature and thoughtful reading, I realized that Stanphill is in fact saying quite the opposite. In each stanza of the imagined conversation between a Christian and Jesus, the Lord replies in a gently ironic tone that re-contextualizes the Christian's complaint from a more spiritually mature point of view.

Stanza 1:
I traveled down a lonely road
And no one seemed to care,
The burden on my weary back
Had bowed me to despair,
I oft complained to Jesus
How folks were treating me,
And then I heard Him say so tenderly,

Up to this point there is nothing unusual in the lyrics; I could point to a dozen other gospel songs on the same theme. The typical continuation would be a chorus looking forward to the joys of heaven. Instead, Stanphill gives us this to think about:

"My feet were also weary, 
Upon the Calv'ry road;
The cross became so heavy, 
I fell beneath the load,
Be faithful weary pilgrim, 
The morning I can see,
Just lift your cross and follow close to Me."

Before we begin to think our burdens our heavy, let us consider the treatment faced by One who deserved nothing but the best in this world:

He was despised and rejected by men; a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not (Isaiah 53:3). 

If I look at my problems honestly, I can see that in some of them I have myself to blame, in part or in whole; but He was completely without fault. Instead,

He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned--every one--to his own way; and the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all (Isaiah 53:5-6).

All of this mistreatment came to a head in His crucifixion, when Jesus, who had once silenced every debater, refused to raise an argument in His own defense against the unjust accusers.

He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so He opened not his mouth (Isaiah 53:7). 

Instead He "went out, bearing His own cross" (John 19:17). At one point Simon of Cyrene was pressed into service to carry the cross instead (Mark 15:21), and from this we surmise that Jesus' physical body had reached its limits and was no longer able to carry it. Even then He not yet begun the worst that day would bring.

In consideration of what Jesus went through for my sake, through no deserving of His own, how can I even begin to compare my suffering to His? Yet He bore it with grace, without complaint. The writer of Hebrews reminds us to "consider Him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood" (Hebrews 12:3-4). We know that some Christians in some parts of the world today have in fact resisted to that point; I have not had to, and may God help me to keep my troubles in perspective.

Stanza 2:
"I work so hard for Jesus," 
I often boast and say,
"I've sacrificed a lot of things
To walk the narrow way,"
I gave up fame and fortune;
I'm worth a lot to Thee,"
And then I hear Him gently say to me,

"I left the throne of glory
And counted it but loss,
My hands were nailed in anger
Upon a cruel cross,
But now we'll make the journey
With your hand safe in Mine,
So lift your cross and follow close to Me."

Most of us will have some difficulty with the idea that we have given up "fame and fortune" for Christ, but in the context of Ira Stanphill's life this rings true. He obviously had the talent to write in the popular and country-western styles; he could have followed his first wife's inclinations toward secular music and found a much broader career as a performer and songwriter. But Stanphill was committed to serve in ministry, which proved a far less lucrative field and often just as uncertain. In addition, after his first wife divorced him and left with another man, Stanphill felt he must hold out hope that they would reconcile someday. Despite his loneliness and the difficulty of raising a son on his own, he was committed to remain single as long as she lived. Though the churches generally seemed to accept the situation, it was a painful hardship on his ministry. The cost of following Jesus according to his conscience was personally pretty high for Ira Stanphill.

But the point of the stanza is that the Christian's perspective on loss is fundamentally transformed by two factors. First, the good things of this world are blessings we enjoy by the Lord's goodness, and not because of our own deserving. It is a hard lesson to hear, but there was truth in Job's words, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD" (Job 1:21). Job's understanding of the situation was incomplete, but his attitude was correct--he was never owed those blessings in the first place. As Job told his wife in the following chapter, "Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?" (Job 2:10).

In the second place, the Christian's perspective on loss is transformed by the example of Jesus. Peter did not yet understand this, as a disciple still in training, when he declared, "See, we have left everything and followed you" (Mark 10:28). One can only imagine, on hearing that statement, what might have gone through the mind of One who,

Though He was in the form of God, [He] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men (Philippians 2:6-7). 

In typical fashion, Jesus put self aside and made it a moment to teach His eager but immature disciples, who had not even begun to realize the cost of following Him. An older, tougher, and wiser Peter would say:

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:12-13).

The apostle Paul concurred, in a verse that probably inspired Stanphill's lyrics:

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (Philippians 3:8).

Stanza 3:
O, Jesus if I die upon
A foreign field some day,
'Twould be no more than love demands,
No less could I repay,
"No greater love hath mortal man
Than for a friend to die;"
These are the words He gently spoke to me,

"If just a cup of water
I place within your hand,
Then just a cup of water
Is all that I demand,"
But if by death to living
They can Thy glory see,
I'll take my cross and follow close to Thee.

The final stanza's turn to missionary work ("a foreign field") is much easier to understand in context of the song's background, discussed earlier. Mary Greenaway, wife of the missionary whose words inspired this song, endangered her life by remaining in the field instead of returning home during her extended illness. No doubt her husband Charles could have faced death more easily himself, than to risk hers; but they continued in spite of the cost. In contemplation of this spirit of self-sacrifice, Stanphill quotes Jesus' words from John 15:13, "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends," and remarks that in view of all that Christ has done for us, there is nothing we can begrudge Him in return. Whatever the suffering of this life demands of us will be far less than He deserves from us, in return for His sacrifice. In contrast to the tone of complaint in the earlier stanzas, the Christian now expresses a wish to sacrifice his all in gratitude to his Lord.

At the midpoint of each stanza thus far, there has been an imagined corrective response from Jesus, which suggests that (if the songwriter is consistent) even the noble sentiments of the preceding lines need an adjustment of perspective. I believe that continues to be the case in the second half of the final stanza. As noble as it is to offer everything--even one's life--to the cause of Christ, with every noble intention there is a subtle danger of pride. That risk was wisely noted by the early nineteenth-century missionary Adoniram Judson in his "Advice to Missionary Candidates":

Beware of pride; not the pride of proud men, but the pride of humble men--that secret pride which is apt to grow out of the consciousness that we are esteemed by the great and good. This pride sometimes eats out the vitals of religion before its existence is suspected (Judson, 579).

Harsh words but true! Never doubt that Satan is clever enough to take even our proper satisfaction in providing service to God and our fellow humanity, as an opportunity to tempt us into sin!

The imagined response from Jesus is a little ambiguous. The Scripture reference, of course, is obvious:

Whoever receives you receives Me, and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent Me. The one who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet's reward, and the one who receives a righteous person because he is a righteous person will receive a righteous person's reward. And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward (Matthew 10:40-42).

The relevant aspect of this passage is that services done in Jesus' name, whether small or great, will receive their reward: in fact, Jesus points out, "even a cup of cold water" (a comparatively minor act) will not be unrewarded. But what is the intent of the reference in the context of this song? I see two different possible readings of this stanza. Perhaps it is as though Jesus said, "You are right to be willing to sacrifice everything up to and including your life, but beware of pride; by comparison to My sacrifice, it is no greater than the cup of cold water." Or. perhaps, it is as though He said, "It is all very well to dream of doing great things, but do not neglect the simple acts of kindness that I place in your grasp every day."

Either interpretation is Scriptural and appropriate. If we are called upon to do great things in God's service, and to make great sacrifices, let us do so humbly and say in Christ's words, "We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty" (Luke 17:10). And in the desire to do more in God's service, let us never neglect the "small" acts of service that are right before us (and of course they may not be small acts at all to those whom they benefit). Charles Spurgeon memorably spoke to this topic in his commentary on Psalm 131:

Many through wishing to be great have failed to be good: they were not content to adorn the lowly stations which the Lord appointed them, and so they have rushed at grandeur and power, and found destruction where they looked for honour. ... 

Such is the vanity of many men that if a work be within their range they despise it, and think it beneath them: the only service which they are willing to undertake is that to which they have never been called, and for which they are by no means qualified. What a haughty heart must he have who will not serve God at all unless he may be trusted with five talents at the least! (Treasury of David, VII, 87).

May we humbly accept each trial with the faith that God will bring us through it, the assurance that Jesus knows personally what human suffering is like, and the determination to glorify God by how we respond to it.

About the music:

Stanphill's music is simple but well-written, and whether he did so purposely or intuitively, he structured it with certain unifying ideas that make it an excellent example of the modern gospel style. First of all, the opening half of the melody is built with phrases that descend stepwise (mostly) through a narrow range. This is mirrored in the alto with a descending chromatic line through the first phrase. Along the way, the alto's C-flat turns the harmony from major to minor mode just before the first cadence.

[The following musical excerpts are provided for analysis and criticism under the terms of fair use for educational purposes.]
The narrow and constricted nature of the melody is amplified by moving from open to close harmony by the end of each of the first three phrases. In the final phrase of the first half, the harmony remains close, and the alto's previous chromatic descent is reflected in the bass line.
Musical gestures such as these--descending chromatic lines, unexpected minor chords, and melodic phrases that seem trapped within a narrow range--convey a sense of sadness and despair, which suits the text in the first half of each stanza. If Stanphill had continued the entire song in this cast, it would have been a pretty dismal project indeed! But the structure of the text turns at this point to the imagined corrective reply from Jesus, and the music follows suit:
In a sudden (and gutsy) change of pace, Stanphill kicks the melody up into the upper half of the octave. Where we previously had descending chromatic notes, now they ascend, invigorating the harmony (the F-sharp in the alto before the end of the first phrase, and the A-naturals in the next-to-last measure of the next phrase). The majority of the harmony is written in open position, especially in the second phrase. Stanphill also builds up to the highest note of the melody toward the end of this section. The overall musical effect is as if someone flipped the lights on!

The final two phrases of the text of each stanza turn from the perspective of Jesus back to the resulting change of heart in the Christian. The music follows, repeating the 3rd and 4th phrases of the opening half; but after the dramatic contrast of the preceding section, and with the chastened tone of the text, the music now comes across differently. What initially sounded like despair and complaining is reinterpreted as calm resignation. This was exactly the point of the text, of course.

Once again, I am not suggesting the Stanphill sat down and decided to do these things, although they may have crossed his mind during the writing process. Some may have been intuitive choices, or even a fortuitous combination of notes that struck him as appropriate as he composed. I suspect, however, that good songwriters put more thought into these things than is sometimes apparent.

---

References:

Gohr, Glenn. "This side of heaven: the story of Ira Stanphill and his popular gospel songs." Assemblies of God Heritage volume 14, number 2 (Spring 1994): 5-9, 24-26. http://ifphc.org/pdf/Heritage/1994_02.pdf (PDF download)

Judson, Edward. The Life of Adoniram Judson. New York: A.D.F. Randolph & Co, 1883. https://archive.org/details/lifeofadoniramju00judsiala

Spurgeon, Charles H.  The Treasury of David, ? vols.  New York, Toronto: Funk & Wagnalls, 1892 (reprint). https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/007114227/

Stanphill, Ira. This Side of Heaven. Fort Worth, Texas: Hymntime Ministries, 1983.

Terry, Lindsay. Stories Behind 50 Southern Gospel Favorites. Volume 1. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Kregel, 2002.

Fear Not, Little Flock

Praise for the Lord #149

Words: Mary A. Kidder, 1882 [1880?]
Music: James G. Dailey, 1882

Mary Ann (Pepper) Kidder was a Civil War widow in New York City whose pastime of writing poetry became the primary support of her family. In addition to patriotic and temperance-themed works, she became a prominent writer of gospel song lyrics. Fanny Crosby recalled that she, Kidder, and Josephine Pollard were referred to as "the Trio" at the Biglow & Main publishing house because of their standing as the go-to lyricists (Crosby, 136). Further information about Kidder's career is available in my earlier post on the song "Did you think to pray?."

The stanzas of "Fear not, little flock" appear in Sunday School Songs: a Treasury of Devotional Hymns and Tunes for the Sunday School (Cleveland, Ohio: Publishing House of the Evangelical Association, 1880), with a different chorus made from the original 4th stanza (now usually omitted), and with music by Joseph Garrison. The current setting with music by Dailey first appeared in Sing the Gospel (Chicago: E.O. Excell, 1882). (Though I have not been able to view a copy, the Dailey version is found in Excell's 1885 The Gospel in Song, which incorporates the contents of Sing the Gospel and gives an 1882 copyright date for this setting.)

The earliest hymnal used among Churches of Christ to include this song was The New Christian Hymn and Tune Book (Cincinnati: Fillmore Bros., 1887), edited by James H. Fillmore. This hymnal became a major competitor to the Christian Hymnal, the "official" hymnal begun by Alexander Campbell, having much the same content at a lower price (McCann 18). No doubt the fact that the Christian Hymnal was owned by and benefited the Missionary Society was additional incentive for conservative congregations to adopt Fillmore's book. "Fear not, little flock" did not appear in the original 1889 Christian Hymns published by Gospel Advocate, but was in the 1935 reboot of that title and has been included in most hymnals among the U.S. Churches of Christ since that time.

Stanza 1:
Fear not, little flock, says the Savior divine,
The Father has willed that the kingdom be thine;
O soil not your garments with sin here below:
My sheep and my lambs must be whiter than snow.

The first couplet is obviously from Luke 12:32, and introduces the first of two metaphors that underlie the lyrics: "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom" (Luke 12:32). The original context is the Christian's relationship to material wealth (Luke 12:13-34, paralleled in the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 6:19-34). The "fear" in question is a concern over material necessities. Jesus commands, "Do not be anxious about your life" (Luke 12:22), "nor be worried" (verse 29); instead, "Seek His kingdom and these things will be added to you" (verse 31).

Interestingly, Kidder lifts verse 32 from this context and applies it instead to a different area of anxiety: the assurance of salvation. The image of the "little flock" in need of rescue is a common one from the Hebrew Testament; God "led [His] people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron" through the wilderness (Psalm 77:20), and David defended a literal flock of sheep from the depredations of wild animals before he delivered his nation from the Philistines (1 Samuel 17). The prophets later used this imagery to describe the captivity and ultimate return of the people from Babylon: "I will gather the remnant of My flock out of all the countries where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply" (Jeremiah 23:3). Prophets speaking of the Messiah naturally used this comparison to describe the coming Son of David. "I will set up over them one Shepherd, my servant David, and He shall feed them: He shall feed them and be their Shepherd" (Ezekiel 34:23).

Jesus came fulfilling that prophecy as "a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel" (Matthew 2:6, cf. Micah 5:2-4), proclaiming the kingdom of God to those whom He saw were "harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd" (Matthew 9:36). In His compassion He reached out especially to the poor and outcast, to the sinners, Samaritans, and even Gentiles. He fulfilled the promise of Ezekiel 34:12, "As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out My sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered." As seen in the 23rd Psalm, He promises to lead His kingdom-flock through every phase of life, good and bad, and to bring them at last into the culmination of His kingdom in heaven, where "the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their Shepherd, and He will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Revelation 7:17).

In view of these wonderful promises, the metaphor shifts in the second half of the verse to that of keeping our garments clean, so that we will be always ready for the King's return. The reference is doubtless to the Lord's letters to the seven churches at the beginning of the Revelation:

Yet you have still a few names in Sardis, people who have not soiled their garments, and they will walk with Me in white, for they are worthy. The one who conquers will be clothed thus in white garments, and I will never blot his name out of the book of life. I will confess his name before My Father and before His angels (Revelation 3:4-5). 

The white garment is a symbol of holiness and purity throughout the Bible. At the Transfiguration Jesus was seen to be clothed in dazzling white (Mark 9:3), and in the first chapter of the Revelation He appears to John in the form described first in Daniel 9:7: "His clothing was white as snow, and the hair of His head like pure wool." Angels were also identified by this kind of clothing in Mark 16:5 and Acts 1:10.

In the main body of the Revelation, white garments appear on the twenty-four elders surrounding the throne (4:4), are given to the Christian martyrs (6:11), and clothe the multitudes from every nation that are later seen to stand before the Lamb (7:9). An elder addresses John and explains, "These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (7:14). The white garment, then, represents holiness and purity before God, obtained not by our own efforts but through the cleansing blood of Christ.

Our goal, once cleansed, should be to keep the garments clean; but when they are soiled with sin, we can seek to renew them through Jesus, even as He encouraged the Christians at Laodicaea:

"I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see" (Revelation 3:18).

Chorus:
Whiter than snow (I long to be, dear Savior),
Whiter than snow (I long to be).
Whiter than snow (I long to be, dear Savior),
Whiter than snow (Whiter than the snow).

The chorus continues the theme of white garments and the purity they represent. It particularly references Psalm 51:7, "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." It is from the famous Psalm of David that records his repentance after his terrible sins toward Bathsheba and her husband Uriah. Here David pours out his heart, a broken man pleading for a return to his former relationship with God. Despite all he had done, and the consequences he would suffer for the rest of his days, he still had hope of spiritual restoration. As Isaiah would say to a later generation,

Seek the LORD while He may be found;
call upon Him while He is near;
let the wicked forsake his way,
and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
let him return to the LORD, that He may have compassion on him,
and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon. (Isaiah 55:6-7)

Stanza 2:
Far whiter than snow, and as fair as the day, 
For Christ is the fountain to wash guilt away;
O give Him, poor sinner, that burden of Thine,
And enter the fold with the ninety-and-nine.

(Chorus)

The metaphor of Christ as a fountain naturally calls to mind other hymns, in particular the great American folk hymn "Come Thou Fount of every blessing." But the image is rooted in Scripture, starting (at least) with Jesus' unusual conversation with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well in John chapter 4. Moving deftly from the subject of physical thirst and wells to the spiritual equivalents, Jesus says in verse 14, "But whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." There was "water in the plan" from the beginning, for nourishment and for cleansing; in a similar unusual encounter, Jesus told the Jewish leader Nicodemus, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God" (John 3:5). Paul was told in similar fashion by Ananias, "And now why do you wait? Rise and be baptized and wash away your sins, calling on his name" (Acts 22:16).

The second half of the stanza promises that Christ will take away the burden of sin, recalling Jesus' words in Matthew 11:28-30, "Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and my burden is light." In one sense this statement is hard to reconcile with some of Jesus' own descriptions of following Him, such as Matthew 7:14, "For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few," or Matthew 16:24, "If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me." To this question one can only answer that the burdens of sin lead to far worse, in this life and beyond, than anything Jesus will demand.

The final line references the famous parable of the lost sheep, which becomes the chief topic of the third stanza.

Stanza 3:
Yon sheep, that was lost in the valley of sin,
Was found by the Shepherd, who gathered him in;
With songs of thanksgiving the hills did resound,
"My friends and my neighbors, the lost sheep is found."

(Chorus)

The well known parable is found in Luke 15:4-7:

What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, "Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost." Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

This perennially popular story touches the heart in several ways. There is the determination of the Shepherd to recover the lost sheep, however long it takes. There is the realization that no matter how many other sheep He has, each one is valuable enough to receive His individual attention, as if it were His only one. And finally, there is the tender care with which He brings the missing one home; not with rebuke or punishment, but with gentleness and joy.

Another stanza, now often omitted, preceded the final stanza:

Look up, O my brother, and be not cast down,
While heavy the cross, you are sighting the crown;
Go, wash in the fountain, while waiting below;
Your sins shall, though scarlet, be whiter than snow.

The final line references Isaiah 1:18, "Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." This colorful and thought-provoking Scripture reference is predicated on the "washing in the fountain" referenced in the second stanza, but the effect is weakened by the awkward introduction of the image of cross-bearing in the same context. The singer is first encouraged as one struggling under the cross, then is told to wash in the fountain. Bearing the cross is an act of obedience, however, and the difficulty found therein is not the result of unforgiven sin, but of the inherent cost of following Jesus. The confused message may be the reason this stanza is often omitted.

Stanza 4:
Ride over temptation and cease your alarms;
Your Shepherd is Jesus, your refuge His arms;
He'll never forsake you, a Brother and Friend,
But love you and save you in worlds without end.

(Chorus)

In conclusion, Mrs. Kidder exhorts the singer to take courage from the knowledge of this Shepherd's desire and ability to care for His own. When we think of the metaphor of the ancient shepherd, we tend to focus on the gentle, careful attention given to the flock, as expressed in Psalm 23. But the shepherd also had to be strong, as David proved by his defense of his flocks against wild animals. In the less famous Psalm 28, the shepherd-king of ancient Israel described his God in terms of the Savior-Shepherd:

Blessed be the LORD!
  For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield;
  in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped;
my heart exults,
  and with my song I give thanks to Him. 

The LORD is the strength of His people;
  He is the saving refuge of His anointed.
Oh, save Your people and bless Your heritage!
  Be their Shepherd and carry them forever.

(Psa 28:6-9)

Micah predicted that the Son of David would fulfill this desire, in the same passage in which Bethlehem is named as the Messiah's birthplace: "And He shall stand and shepherd His flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD His God. And they shall dwell secure, for now He shall be great to the ends of the earth" (Micah 5:4). In such hints and shadows the faithful Israelites could see a Good Shepherd coming; how much more should we, with the full revelation of His gospel to reassure us, trust in Him and follow His example? Peter so exhorts us, expanding on the language of Isaiah 53:

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in His steps. He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to Him who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls (1Peter 2:21-25).

About the music:

From Simpson's Daily
Leader, Kittaning, Pa.,
12 May 1916.

James Gerald Dailey was born March 22 1854 in Rockland, Delaware, north of Wilmington ("James Gerald Dailey, Sr.," FindAGrave.com) to Irish immigrants James and Eliza Dailey. His father passed away when James was only four, and the family relocated to the western end of the state, settling in "Brockwayville," as Brockway, Pennsylvania was then called ("Eliza Dailey," FindAGrave.com). In the 1870 census James is listed as an apprentice shoemaker, and curiously, is indicated to be "blind, deaf, insane, or idiotic" (1870 census). There is no other information that Dailey had any such disabilities, so this remains a mystery. By 1876 he had married (1900 census), and the 1880 census shows him to have been working as a shoemaker in Brockway for a time, supporting his widowed mother in his household.

How and where Dailey acquired his musical training is yet to be discovered; but his rise in the field of sacred music coincided with the rise of the temperance movement, with which he held a lifelong association. In a New York Times article from 28 October 1887 describing the traveling tent-meetings of the Prohibition Party, we find this (rather snarky) report of James G. Dailey's leading a Sunday service:

The Professor's presence is calculated to lend sanctity to Gospel temperance meetings such as were held on Sundays in the tent. It diffuses also the solemnity necessary to the success of secular gatherings. He is tall and dark-complexioned, and has a mournful expression which well befits an evangelist wedded to his calling. His voice is mellow and melodious, two qualities indispensable to a singer of sweet prohibition songs.

Times reporters could make fun all they wished; Dailey was becoming known for his temperance songs, which led to a string of publications:

What's the News? A Collection of Gospel, Temperance and Prohibition Songs. Brockwayville, Pa. and Buffalo: J. G. Dailey, c1889. http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/20569029

Love: for Use in the Sunday-School, Home, Social, and all Kinds of Religious Services. Brockwayville, Pa.: J. G. Dailey, 1892. http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/35303952

Popular Pearls for Gospel Temperance Meetings. Brockwayville, Pa.: J. G. Dailey, 1894. http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/39141117

Prohibition Chimes: for Temperance, Prohibition and all Reform Meetings. Fredonia, New York: Dailey & Mead, [1900?] http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/33005380

"But now abide faith, hope, love; these three, howbeit the greatest of these is love." Philadelphia: J. G. Dailey, [1914?] http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/953416393

The Prohibition Wringer. Philadelphia: J.G. Dailey Music Company, c1915. http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/893059890

The 1910 census shows that Dailey eventually settled in Philadelphia, a center of music publishing. Though he is remembered today for his hymn tunes--including the winsome music for "Why did my Savior come to earth"--he was best known in his own time for the temperance songs. In one of his better known efforts in this genre, written in 1911, Dailey made the following prediction:

Public domain, from Hymnary.org https://hymnary.org/hymn/WS1916/page/157

Dailey got the last laugh on the New York Times, which had to admit at Dailey's death in 1927 the prophetic accuracy of his song (NYT, 16 November 1927, p. 5). On January 27, 1920, the Volstead Act took effect, making alcoholic beverages illegal and beginning the Prohibition Era in the United States.

---

References:

Crosby, Fanny. Memories of Eighty Years. Boston: James H. Earle, 1906.
http://books.google.com/books?id=MpoYAAAAYAAJ

McCann, Forrest M. Hymns and History: an Annotated Survey of Sources. Abilene, Texas: ACU Press, 1997.

"James G. Dailey, songwriter, dies." New York Times, 16 November 1927, page 5.

"James Gerald Dailey, Sr." FindAGrave.com, page created by Jeff Donaldson.
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/174973711/

"Eliza Jane Morrison Dailey." FindAGrave.com.
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/19454064/eliza-jane-dailey

"J. G. Dailey." Hymnary.org. https://hymnary.org/person/Dailey_JG

"James Dailey." United States Census, 1860.
https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:M4SW-WVS

"James Dailey." United States Census, 1870.
https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MZP6-QGF

"James G. Dailey." United States Census, 1880.  https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MWFK-BT8

"James G. Daily." United States Census, 1900. https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MS6V-Z3L

"James G. Dailey." United States Census, 1910. https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MGH3-3B7

"Bailey's tent campaign." New York Times 28 October 1887, page 1.