Just as I am, without one plea

with
WOODWORTH
MISERICORDIA
SAFFRON WALDEN

I. Text: Background

The spiritual seed behind this hymn by Charlotte Elliott (1789–1871) is sometimes regarded to be her conversion experience, led by Genevan pastor H.A. César Malan (1787–1864). Charlotte had become an invalid in 1821, which brought her great mental distress. In a memoir, her sister Eleanor Elliott Babington described Charlotte’s condition:

Then followed a period of much seclusion and bodily distress, from the continuance of feeble health. Her views, too, became clouded and confused, through an introduction to religious controversy, and the disturbing influence of various teachers, who held inadequate notions of the efficacy of Divine grace. She became deeply conscious of the evil in her own heart, and having not yet fully realised the fulness and freeness of the grace of God in the Lord Jesus Christ, she suffered much mental distress, under the painful uncertainty whether it were possible that such an one as she felt herself to be could be saved.

At this conjuncture it pleased God graciously to provide for her a spiritual teacher fully adapted to her necessities. It was an era in her life never to be forgotten. On the 9th of May, 1822, she was for the first time introduced to Dr. Caesar Malan, of Geneva, in her father’s residence, Grove House, Clapham, through the kind intervention of Miss Waddington, afterwards the wife of Bishop Shirley. From that time, for forty years, his constant correspondence was justly esteemed the greatest blessing of her life. The anniversary of that memorable date was always kept as a festal day; and on that day, so long as Dr. Malan lived, commemorative letters passed from the one to the other, as upon the birthday of her soul to true spiritual life and peace.[1]

In a letter to the Elliott family, 22 May 1822, Malan included this admonition to let go of striving for worldly contentment:

But, dear, truly dear friends and sisters, in our vanity, in frivolous presumption, in foolish error, we may flatter ourselves that we live, without this life; that we are wise, though ignorant of this truth; that we are content, happy, peaceful in the midst of our own agitation and in a path we try to trace in the quicksand of our glory, of the approbation of acquaintances, of our sciences, our lectures, our pleasures, etc. Then (and then very happily, Charlotte!) there is no more peace for an immortal soul thus deceived, bound, tenfold vanquished by the craft and seductions of Satan, of the world, of its own folly. For such a soul there are only bitter restlessness, long feebleness, tears, regrets, and continual sighings after a life it cannot attain, yet of which it feels the imperative need.

But Jesus remains the same above this gloomy ignorance, this culpable wandering: Jesus whose name is Saviour, Jesus who does not watch a wretched soul to condemn and destroy it, but to draw it to Himself, and to restore its life by pardoning all; Jesus looks upon this soul, and the dear soul is astonished to feel once more, to find repentant tears, and hope of grace and pardon, and joys which it had thought never to know again.

Dear Charlotte, cut the cable, it will take too long to unloose it; cut it, it is a small loss; the wind blows and the ocean is before you—the Spirit of God, and eternity.[2]

Some sources as early as 1883 include a description of a conversation between Charlotte and Malan at that fateful first meeting, in which Malan seems to give the impetus behind Charlotte’s most famous hymn. This story was apparently proliferated by Ira Sankey; it is most likely a work of imagination, used for affect at evangelistic meetings:

At a gathering in the West End of London the Rev. Caesar Malan found himself seated by a young lady. In the course of conversation he asked her if she were a Christian. She turned upon him, and somewhat sharply replied, “That’s a subject I don't care to have discussed here this evening.” “Well,” answered Mr. Malan, with inimitable sweetness of manner, “I will not persist in speaking of it, but I shall pray that you may give your heart to Christ, and become a useful worker for Him.” A fortnight afterwards they met again, and this time the young lady approached the minister with marked courtesy, and said, “The question you asked me the other evening has abided with me ever since, and caused me very great trouble. I have been trying in vain in all directions to find the Saviour, and I come now to ask you to help me to find Him. I am sorry for the way in which I previously spoke to you, and now come for help.” Mr. Malan answered her, “Come to Him just as you are.” “But will He receive me just as I am, and now?” “Oh, yes,” said Mr. Malan, “gladly will He do so.” They then knelt together and prayed, and she soon experienced the holy joy of a full forgiveness through the blood of Christ.[3]

A relative of the family, Bishop H.C.G. Moule, discounted this latter story in an article for The Record, 15 Oct. 1897, instead describing an event he believed happened in 1834:

Some quite inaccurate accounts have appeared from time to time of the occasion of the writing of this memorable hymn. It has been said, for example, that it was the writer’s confession of faith at her conversion. . . . Yet the origin of the hymn was not of this sort, and its true history is well worth telling, for it throws light not only on the hymn, but on some most important aspects of the way of salvation; not at the gate only, but all along the course. . . .

Besides its general trying influence on the spirits, [her ill health] often caused her the peculiar pain of a seeming uselessness in her life while the circle round her was full of unresting serviceableness for God. Such a time of trial marked the year 1834, when she was forty-five years old, and was living in Westfield Lodge, Brighton—that house of countless Christian memories, but now, some dozen years ago, levelled to the dust to make room for a huge hotel.

Her brother, the Rev. H.V. Elliott, had not long before conceived the plan of St. Mary’s Hall, at Brighton—a school designed to give, at a nominal cost, a high education to the daughters of clergymen: a noble work which is to this day carried on with admirable ability and large success. In aid of St. Mary’s Hall there was to be held a bazaar, an event then unusual, and a word which in those days carried with it no doubtful associations. Westfield Lodge was all astir; every member of the large circle was occupied morning and night in the preparations, with the one exception of the ailing sister, Charlotte—as full of eager interest as any of them, but physically fit for nothing. The night before the bazaar she was kept wakeful by distressing thoughts of her apparent uselessness; and these thoughts passed—by a transition easy to imagine—into a spiritual conflict, till she questioned the reality of her whole spiritual life, and wondered whether it were anything better after all than an illusion of the emotions, an illusion ready to be sorrowfully dispelled.

The next day, the busy day of the bazaar, she “lay upon her sofa in that most pleasant boudoir set apart for her in Westfield Lodge, ever a dear resort to her friends.” The troubles of the night came back upon her with such force that she felt they must be met and conquered in the grace of God. She gathered up in her soul the great certainties, not of her emotions, but of her salvation: her Lord, His power, His promise. And taking pen and paper from the table she deliberately set down in writing, for her own comfort, “the formulae of her faith.” Hers was a heart which always tended to express its depths in verse. So in verse she restated to herself the Gospel of pardon, peace, and heaven. “Probably without difficulty or long pause” she wrote the hymn, getting comfort by thus definitely “recollecting” the eternity of the Rock beneath her feet. There, then, always, not only for some past moment, but “even now” she was accepted in the Beloved—“Just as I am.”

As the day wore on her sister-in-law, Mrs. H.V. Elliott, came in to see her, and bring news of the work. She read the hymn, and asked (she well might) for a copy. So it first stole out from that quiet room into the world, where now for sixty years it has been sowing and reaping, till a multitude which God alone can number have been blessed through its message.[4]

II. Text: Publication.

In 1834, Elliott took charge of a project started by her friend Harriet Kiernan, a collection called The Invalid’s Hymn Book, to which Elliott added her own texts. The first edition of 1834 included 23 hymns by Elliott in an Appendix, and number 68 in the main body was credited to her on the Errata page. This was issued again in 1835. “Just as I am, without one plea” was added to the second edition, enlarged, in 1841 (Fig. 1). This 1841 printing of the text contained six stanzas, without music, unattributed, headed “Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out—John vi. 37.”

In 1836, Elliott published the first edition of another collection of poems, Hours of Sorrow, containing 79 texts. A second edition was issued in 1840, and a third in 1844. The fourth edition, 1849, contained “Just as I am” with an additional seventh stanza, beginning “Just as I am—of that free love” (Fig. 2). Notice also the small change in the third stanza from “Fightings within, and fears without” to “Fightings and fears within, without.”

Another printing worth noting is an unauthorized leaflet in circulation after Charlotte and Eleanor had moved to Torquay, England, in the fall of 1845. They lived there for fourteen years. The episode was described in Eleanor’s memoir of her sister:

A young lady was so struck with it, that she had it printed as a leaflet and widely circulated, without any idea by whom it had been composed. It happened rather curiously that while we were living at Torquay, our valued Christian physician came to us one morning, having in his hand this leaflet. He offered it to my sister, saying, “I am sure this will please you,” and great indeed was his astonishment at finding that it was written by herself, though by what means it had been thus printed and circulated she was utterly ignorant. Shortly after we became acquainted with the lady who had printed it.[5]

An illustrated edition of the hymn was issued after Elliott’s death, Just As I Am (London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, ca. 1885 | Fig. 3), with a biographical sketch by “H.L.L.” (Jane Borthwick) and images by Clark Stanton. This edition did not add any new details about the composition of the hymn, but it included a presentation of the first stanza with the tune ST. MARY MAGDALENE by John Wilson. This edition demonstrates the fondness of the text in the eyes of the English public.

III. Issues of Dating

Much confusion has arisen as to the proper dating of the hymn. Moule’s account says it was written during the bazaar in 1834, but he also claimed it was published in the first edition of the The Invalid’s Hymn Book (1834), which is incorrect. His story about the bazaar is probably true, but his dating is not reliable. Quite a few sources claim the hymn was first published in an 1836 edition of The Invalid’s Hymn Book, except no such edition survives. This is likely a confusion with the 1836 Hours of Sorrow, except that edition did not contain this hymn either. The second edition of The Invalid’s Hymn Book, revised and enlarged, was not issued until 1841, and this is confirmed by the preface, which is dated 4 March 1841, with the announcement of “an addition of fifty hymns never before published.” Those hymns were marked with an asterisk in the index, including “Just as I am.”

In 1834, Elliott had taken over editorial duties of an annual publication, the Christian Remembrancer Pocket Book, in place of her friend Harriet Kiernan, a role she continued for the next twenty-five years. Elliott published several of her poems in that periodical, and according to some sources, “Just as I am” was first published in those pages (see especially Charles S. Robinson, Annotations, 1893, for example). Unfortunately, copies of this periodical are scarce and could not be located for examination. Nonetheless, after Elliott’s death, a compilation of material from the periodical was published as Leaves from the Christian Remembrancer (London: R & A Suttaby, n.d.). In that volume, Elliott’s poems from the periodical were gathered together, and she was credited as “The author of ‘Just as I am,’” but her poem did not appear in that compilation. Therefore, although many of her poems did appear in that periodical, it seems as though “Just as I am” was not one of them.

In the preparation of Our Hymns: Their Authors and Origin (London: Jackson, Walford, and Hodder, 1866) and its renamed second edition, Singers and Songs of the Church (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1869), author Josiah Miller indicated he had corresponded directly with Charlotte Elliott. In both editions, Miller said of this hymn, “It bears date 1836,” without naming a printed source. Similarly, in Roundell Palmer’s Book of Praise (London: MacMillan, 1866), which had been meticulously researched and annotated—and printed within Elliott’s lifetime—this hymn appeared as no. 147 with the date 1836, without further explanation.

Given all available evidence, it seems as though Elliott affirmed or supplied a date of composition of 1836 to Miller and Palmer, quite possibly written during the bazaar described by Moule, but the first confirmed publication of the hymn was in the second edition of The Invalid’s Hymn Book, preface dated 4 March 1841, where it was said to be “never before published.” An additional seventh stanza first appeared in the fourth edition of Hours of Sorrow, 1849.

IV. Text: Assessment and Legacy

Carl P. Daw has pointed to “the possible virtues of this text as an expression of eschatological devotion,”[6] owing to its use of the name “Lamb of God,” declared by John the Baptist (John 1:29,36) and envisioned in Revelation 5. Regarding the opening of every stanza, “Just as I am,” and the closing, “O Lamb of God, I come,” Daw said, “This invariable framework makes it a kind of litany that gains momentum as the text moves along. That movement is also helped by the employment of a single rhyme for the variable lines (aaax).”

In the third stanza, the phrase “Fightings within, and fears without” is a quote from 2 Corinthians 7:5. The first two lines of stanza 4 are likely a reference to Luke 4:18–19, in which Jesus quoted Isaiah 61:1-2 from the scroll. In stanza 6, “thy love unknown / Hath broken every barrier down” is probably in reference to Ephesians 2:14 (“hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us,” KJV). Stanza 7 quotes Ephesians 3:18.

A unique feature of the overarching structure of the text was noted by Albert Edward Bailey:

The successive stanzas mention some of the limitations and failures of which the soul is conscious: conflicts, doubts, fears, poverty of accomplishment, wretchedness, spiritual blindness; then enumerate the opposites that are found in Christ and may be had by surrender: sight, riches, healing of the mind, welcome, pardon, cleansing, relief. The contemplation of these contrasts drives one’s will into action—“O Lamb of God, I come.”[7]

Hymnologist Erik Routley made a more pastoral observation, on what it means to come “just as I am”:

There was a rich young man who came to Christ just as he was, but who had to resign his hope of being a disciple because he wanted Christ to leave him just as he was. There was a young fellow who came to Jesus and offered himself just as he was, but found that when it came to the point, domestic claims must take priority. Ananias and Sapphira provide an excellent example of this kind of limited liability, which is all a man will ever rise to so long as he claims to be good enough for Christ just as he is.

But the wise and brave authoress of this hymn means nothing of this sort. … Every verse contains the conviction that once a man has come, he must expect to be changed. Once the invitation has been accepted, a man will no longer be just as he was.[8]

Frank Colquhoun cautioned worshipers not to see the hymn solely as a conversion hymn:

Because of its frequent use in evangelistic services, we might be tempted to think of it as essentially a ‘conversion’ hymn, designed to express the penitent’s initial response to the love of Christ. But that would be wrong. Charlotte Elliott wrote it, as we have seen, many years after her conversion. There is no such thing as a once-for-all coming to Jesus. We must come again and again, day after day, to renew our fellowship with him. It is noteworthy that the English Hymnal includes the hymn in its Holy Communion section. At every celebration of the sacrament, not only does our Lord come to us, he also invites us to come once again to him.[9]

Elliott’s hymn was greatly admired by many people within her own lifetime. Shortly after her death, her brother, the Rev. Henry Venn Elliott, famously confided in hymnal editor Edward Henry Bickersteth, “In the course of a long ministry, I hope I have been permitted to see some fruit of my labours, but I feel that far more has been done by a single hymn of my sister’s.”[10]

V. Tune: WOODWORTH

The tune most commonly associated with this hymn, especially in the United States, is WOODWORTH by William Bradbury (1816–1868). Bradbury’s tune was first published in The Mendelssohn Collection (NY: Mark H. Newman & Co., 1849 | Fig. 4), set to “The God of love will sure indulge,” a text by Elizabeth Scott (1708–1776). This tune has the unusual quality of ending on the third degree of the scale. The name of the tune might be a nod to the poet Samuel Woodworth (1785–1842), whose work was included in some of Bradbury’s collections.

Bradbury is responsible for pairing WOODWORTH with Elliott’s text in The Eclectic Tune Book (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Publication Committee, 1860 | Fig. 5). In order for the text to fit the tune, Bradbury had to repeat the last two syllables of the text, “I come,” which works splendidly for every stanza. This is often thought to give the words a sighing affect.

VI. Tune: MISERICORDIA

In Britain, Elliott’s text is commonly associated with MISERICORDIA by Thomas Smart (1813–1879). Smart’s tune was first published in the Revised and Enlarged Edition of Hymns Ancient & Modern (London: William Clowes & Sons, 1875 | Fig. 6), where it was originally paired with this text. At the time, Smart was organist of St. Pancras New Church, Woburn Place, England. His eyesight was so poor, he relied on an assistant to dictate (notate) his compositions. Misericordia means mercy, a name appropriate for Elliott’s hymn. Like Bradbury’s tune, Smart’s ends on the third scale degree, descending from the fifth.

VII. Tune: SAFFRON WALDEN

One other notable tune in common use is SAFFRON WALDEN, composed by Arthur H. Brown (1830–1926). This tune first appeared in the third edition of The Hymnal Companion to the Book of Common Prayer (London: Sampson Low, Marston & Co., 1890 | Fig. 7), where it was set to “O Holy Saviour, friend unseen” a hymn by Charlotte Elliott from Hours of Sorrow (1836). In 1890, Brown was organist of Sir Anthony Browne’s School, Brentwood, England. Saffron Walden the name of a town in Essex, England.

Brown’s tune was first paired with “Just as I am” in The English Hymnal (Oxford: University Press, 1906 | Fig. 8). The success of this hymnal is largely responsible for the proliferation of this musical pairing.

by CHRIS FENNER
for Hymnology Archive
11 February 2020

Footnotes:

1. Eleanor Babington, Selections from the Poems of Charlotte Elliott (London: Religious Tract Society, 1873), pp. 16–17: Archive.org

2. Eleanor Babington, Selections from the Poems of Charlotte Elliott (London: Religious Tract Society, 1873), pp. 19–21: Archive.org

3. George Seaton Bowes, Information and Illustration: Helps for Sermons (London: James Nisbet, 1884), pp. 52–53: Google Books

4. John Brownlie, “Charlotte Elliott,” Hymns and Hymn Writers of the Church Hymnary (London: Henry Frowde, 1899), pp. 150–152.

5. Eleanor Babington, Selections from the Poems of Charlotte Elliott (London: Religious Tract Society, 1873), p. 32.

6. Carl P. Daw Jr., “Just as I am, without one plea,” Glory to God: A Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2016), p. 448.

7. Albert Edward Bailey, “Just as I am, without one plea,” The Gospel in Hymns (NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1950), p. 183.

8. Erik Routley, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Hymns and the Faith (London: John Murray, 1955), pp. 182–183.

9. Frank Colquhoun, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Hymns that Live (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity, 1980), p. 224.

10. Edward Henry Bickersteth, Hymnal Companion to the Book of Common Prayer, Annotated Edition (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Low & Searle, 1872), note 114: Google Books

Related Resources:

Roundell Palmer, “Just as I am, without one plea,” The Book of Praise (London: Macmillan and Co., 1866), pp. 160–161: Archive.org

Josiah Miller, “Charlotte Elliott,” Our Hymns: Their Authors and Origin (London: Jackson, Walford, and Hodder, 1866), p. 869: Archive.org

Josiah Miller, “Charlotte Elliott,” Singers and Songs of the Church (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1869), pp. 461–462: Archive.org

Charlotte Elliott, Just As I Am, with Memorial Sketch by H.L.L., illustrated by Clark Stanton (London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, ca. 1885): PDF

Duncan Morrison, “Just as I am, without one plea,” The Great Hymns of the Church (Toronto: Hart & Company, 1890), pp. 160–166: Google Books

Charles S. Robinson, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Annotations Upon Popular Hymns (NY: Hunt & Eaton, 1893), p. 264: Google Books

John Julian, “Just as I am, without one plea,” A Dictionary of Hymnology, with Supplement (London: John Murray, 1907), pp. 609, 1658: Google Books

John Brownlie, “Charlotte Elliott,” Hymns and Hymn Writers of the Church Hymnary (London: Henry Frowde, 1899), pp. 150–153: Google Books

Charles S. Nutter & Wilbur F. Tillett, “Just as I am, without one plea,” The Hymns and Hymn Writers of the Church (NY: Eaton & Mains, 1911), pp. 145–146: Archive.org

Amos Wells, “Just as I am,” A Treasure of Hymns (Boston: United Society of Christian Endeavor, 1914), pp. 59–62: Archive.org

Albert Edward Bailey, “Just as I am, without one plea,” The Gospel in Hymns (NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1950), p. 183.

Erik Routley, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Hymns and the Faith (London: John Murray, 1955), pp. 181–184.

Frank Colquhoun, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Hymns that Live (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity, 1980), pp. 222–227.

Richard Watson & Kenneth Trickett, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Companion to Hymns & Psalms (Peterborough: Methodist Publishing House, 1988), pp. 395–396.

J.R. Watson, “Just as I am, without one plea,” An Annotated Anthology of Hymns (Oxford: University Press, 2002), pp. 270–271.

Paul Westermeyer, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Companion to Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2010), pp. 430–431.

Carl P. Daw Jr., “Just as I am, without one plea,” Glory to God: A Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2016), pp. 447–449.

Robert C. Preece & Joseph Herl, “Just as I am, without one plea,” Lutheran Service Book Companion, vol. 1 (St. Louis: Concordia, 2019), pp. 616–619.

Leland Ryken, “Just as I am,” 40 Favorite Hymns on the Christian Life (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2019), pp. 37–40: Amazon

Paul Munson & Joshua F. Drake, “Just as I am,” Congregational Singing:
http://www.congsing.org/just_as_i_am.html