Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
His sublime evening hymn, “Glory to Thee, my God, this night,” is ranked as one of the four masterpieces of English praise. His beautiful morning hymn, “Awake, my soul, and with the sun,” is scarcely less deserving of high distinction. As originally written, both hymns closed with the famous doxology given above.
Bishop Ken looms as a heroic figure during turbulent times in English history. Left an orphan in early childhood, he was brought up by his brother-in-law, the famous fisherman, Izaak Walton. Ken’s name has been found cut in one of the stone pillars at Winchester, where he went to school as a boy.
When, in 1679, the wife of William of Orange, the niece of the English monarch, asked Charles II, king of England, to send an English chaplain to the royal court at The Hague, Ken was selected for the position. However, he was so outspoken in denouncing the corrupt lives of those in authority in the Dutch capitol that he was compelled to leave the following year. Charles thereupon appointed him one of his own chaplains.
Ken continued to reveal the same spirit of boldness, however, rebuking the sins of the dissolute English monarch. On one occasion, when Charles asked the courageous pastor to give up his own dwelling temporarily in order that Nell Gwynne, a notorious character, might be housed, Ken answered promptly: “Not for the King’s kingdom.”
Instead of punishing the bold and faithful minister, Charles so admired his courage that he appointed him bishop of Bath and Wells.
Charles always referred to Ken as “the good little man” and, when it was chapel time, he would usually say: “I must go in and hear Ken tell me of my faults.”
When Charles died, and the papist James II came to the throne, Ken, together with six other bishops, was imprisoned in the Tower of London. Although he was acquitted, he was later removed from his bishopric by William III.
The last years of his life were spent in a quiet retreat, and he died in 1711 at the age of seventy-four years. He had requested that “six of the poorest men in the parish” should carry him to his grave, and this was done. It was also at his request that he was buried under the east window of the chancel of Frome church, the service being held at sunrise. As his body was lowered into its last resting-place, and the first light of dawn came through the chancel window, his friends sang his immortal morning hymn: