Ancient of everlasting days,
And God of love.
Jehovah great, I Am,
By earth and heaven confest;
I bow and bless the sacred name,
Forever blest.”
One hymn may seem to be a very narrow basis on which to build a reputation, yet the name of Olivers will as surely be handed down to future generations, on account of this fine sacred lyric, as it would have been if he had written a whole volume of hymns of merely average merit. A dozen instances might be cited in which a single brief poem of rare excellence has won an undying fame for the writer. Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,“ and Michael Bruce’s ”Elegy Written in Spring,“ Wolfe’s ”Burial of Sir John Moore,” and Blanco White’s single sonnet, “Night and Death,” and, in an inferior degree, poor Herbert Knowles’ “Lines Written in the Churchyard of Richmond, Yorkshire,” are cases in point.
Thomas Olivers in his autobiography[139] tells us that he was born at Tregonon in Montgomeryshire in 1725. After the death of his father and uncle, Thomas was left in charge of another relative named Tudor, who sent him to school and afterward bound him apprentice to a shoemaker. He was, by his own account, idle, dissolute, and profane—“the worst boy seen in those parts for the last twenty or thirty years.” His evil conduct compelled him to fly from the scene of his early dissipation as soon as he could; and, after living a wild life at Shrewsbury and Wrexham, he came to Bristol. This city was his spiritual birthplace; for, under a sermon by George Whitfield, the sinful, reckless young Welshman was converted, and became as noted for piety and earnest Christian work as he had once been for blasphemy and opposition to all religion. Shortly after his conversion he removed to Bradford in Wilts, where he joined the Methodists. On recovering from a terrible attack of small-pox he went back to visit the scenes of his early life. In this expedition he had a double object—to obtain a sum of money left him by his uncle, and then to go round to all his creditors and pay his debts. This most Christian conduct won him golden opinions and formed a capital introduction to the preaching of the Gospel; for Olivers had now begun to exercise his rare gifts in that direction. Returning to Bradford, he was soon appointed by John Wesley as a travelling preacher. After preaching in many parts of England and enduring the usual amount of hardship and risk to life and limb incident to the field-preacher’s work in those days, he finally settled in London as John Wesley’s editor, having charge of the Arminian Magazine, and other publications, for which Wesley was responsible. This office he held for twelve years; but he was never quite fit for it, and his chief was reluctantly compelled at last to put a more scholarly man in his place.
In the controversy between Wesley and Toplady on Predestination, etc., a controversy marked by the worst features of the time, the fiery Welshman was put forward to take the leading part on the Arminian side. Nothing could exceed the severity of Toplady’s remarks and the fierceness of his attacks, both on the character and teaching of the veteran preacher, John Wesley, whom all the world now agrees to honor as one of the most devout, unselfish, and useful men who have adorned the Christian Church in any age. Right manfully did the “Welsh Cobbler,” as Olivers was contemptuously styled, stand up for the doctrine of free grace. In his hands Wesley was quite content to leave the work of reply to Toplady’s Zanchius, quietly remarking, “I can only make a few strictures, and leave the young man Toplady to be further corrected by one that is fully his match, Thomas Olivers.”
Tyerman[140] speaks of Olivers as a man of high intellectual power; but “laments that the fiery Welshman undertook to meet the furious Predestinarian with the not too respectable weapons of his own choosing.” What this means may be imagined by the following sample of Toplady’s personalities in this strife of tongues. He says, “Mr. Wesley skulks for shelter under a cobbler’s apron;“ and again, ”Has Tom the Cobbler more learning and integrity than John the Priest?” It must be confessed that Cobbler Tom hit hard in reply. But an end has now come to the discreditable and useless strife; and, happily, it is in no danger of revival; while the hymns written by the pious Calvinist[141] and the zealous Arminian are both alike sung with devout emotion wherever the Saviour’s name is known and adored.