Letters and Diaries in Early Nineteenth-Century Methodism

In keeping with other forms of evangelicalism, early Methodism was prolific in generating a large corpus of private and public literature. Its early leaders, including the Wesley brothers and George Whitefield, were committed diarists, and they corresponded privately with a wide variety of family members, followers and other religious leaders. As writers, compilers and editors, they were also responsible for a vast array of published material, ranging widely from hymnals, sermons and theological writings to works on literature, history and medicine. Those who exercised leadership at different levels throughout the Methodist structure were thus accustomed to the written word as an important medium for communicating religious feelings, ideas and instruction. The survival of a significant body of sources from the early nineteenth century makes clear that private correspondence with a known and trusted fellow believer was an important spiritual discipline for some Methodists, allowing them to share their joys, sorrows, trials and aspirations. As John Wolffe argues, Evangelicalism's high regard for the authority of the scriptures made the use of other literary sources to help interpret the Bible and sustain faith part of its adherents’ normal practice.Footnote ¹⁰

Private contributions to this field of literature, reflecting upon the personal effects of this scriptural faith and the ways in which it was mediated through other literature and religious and cultural practices, can thus be seen as a natural extension of the publicly available works of instruction, encouragement and devotional material. Brett McInelly argues that for eighteenth-century Methodists there were multiple motivations for such personal writings: ‘Methodists spoke and wrote incessantly about their spiritual triumphs and struggles in an effort to validate their feelings in the face of self-doubt and external opposition.’Footnote ¹¹ Such concerns would surely have continued to resonate with Methodist people in the nineteenth century too, even as the movement to which they belonged cemented its place as part of Britain's religious landscape. Within Methodism the apparent unity, however fragile, that existed under John Wesley's strong personal leadership rapidly disintegrated in the decades following his death in 1791, as numerous breakaway groups asserted themselves, unsurprisingly using publications as a key tool in establishing their identity and building and maintaining their membership. In particular, a new hymnal was typically seen as an essential resource for any new Methodist organization; in practice, most initially retained Wesley's 1780 Collection of Hymns for the use of the People called Methodists and appended their own supplement. This testifies to a shared perception among Methodist leaders about the practical usefulness and spiritual value of hymns and hymn singing. While the listening experiences examined below add weight to the general sense of hymnody's importance in Methodism, they reveal the importance of participation within particular circumstances in a way that hymnal editors’ focus on doctrinal soundness, liturgical breadth and aesthetic quality do not.

A letter from Benjamin Bangham (1779–1842), a long-serving class leader in the Madeley Methodist circuit, Shropshire, to Mary Tooth (1777–1843), a prominent figure in Methodism in the area, provides an instructive example of the ways in which hymnody was often reported in such communications.Footnote ¹² Writing a few months after recovering from a prolonged period of ill health, Bangham dwells at length on the first class meeting he was able to attend following his illness, which had prevented him attending for nearly three years.

Bangham's quotations from two hymns by Charles Wesley (1707–1788), Methodism's preeminent hymn-writer, provide an insight into the religious habits of lay Methodists, in particular the ways in which they used hymns to react to local circumstances and to shape and express religious feeling. Bangham's account implies that both hymns were impromptu selections driven respectively by his restored health and by the spirit of fellowship that pervaded the meeting. Those present were thus likely to be sufficiently well acquainted with a corpus of hymnody to be able to identify and share in repertoire they considered appropriate. More significantly, however, this shared knowledge encompassed hymns that were thematically appropriate. The act of singing together may, of itself, have been regarded as an appropriate way to celebrate the success of the meeting, but more than this, they sang a hymn that affirmed the fellowship they experienced by giving it a theological context as a precursor of the divine fellowship of heaven promised to faithful believers such as themselves. The use of the hymn ‘And are we yet alive’ suggests a broader awareness of the place of particular hymns in Methodist culture. In this instance, the text, which speaks of trials overcome and expresses gratitude for renewed opportunities for worship and fellowship, was clearly interpreted in relation to Bangham's absence and return. However, since the late eighteenth century, it had also customarily been used as the opening hymn of the annual Methodist Conference.Footnote ¹⁴ Such use would have raised the hymn's profile in the popular consciousness of Methodism and may thus have made its selection for this particular occasion seem all the more appropriate.

While Bangham quotes the hymn texts at some length, he provides no information about the tunes to which they were sung at the meeting. Such omissions, however, should not be regarded as diminishing the usefulness of the account from a musicological point of view. The obvious reason for the omission is that such detail is unnecessary to enable the reader to identify the hymn; furthermore, in instances such as that recounted by Bangham, it is the text that determines a hymn's suitability. Nonetheless, several aspects of Methodism's musical life can be explored through such accounts. Most basically, the frequent references to hymn singing in such letters attest to its pervasiveness throughout the various levels of the Methodist organizational system. Not all references to hymn singing provide the same level of detail as Bangham. For instance, in a letter to Mary Tooth, Katherine Whitmore recounts a recent meeting that she felt was not wholly successful: ‘At her request I struggled with a little reluctance and ventured to pray. She seconded me in a very excellent prayer, we sung two hymns, and I trust did not meet without some profit.’Footnote ¹⁵ The variety of accounts mentioning hymns and hymn singing point both to its ordinariness and its potential extraordinariness for Methodists; it was something they expected to encounter in all of their gatherings, yet they also recognized it as having the potency to contribute to the atmosphere and spirituality of those gatherings and sometimes to affect individual members in profound ways. The instinctiveness of communal song as a response to particular spiritual situations emerges clearly in Bangham's remark that he and his fellow class members ‘were constrain'd to sing’ in celebration of the spirit of fellowship they had experienced; singing is both commonplace and extraordinary in connecting worshippers with the object of their worship.

The brevity with which the actual singing of hymns is mentioned indicates a tacit assumption that the recipient will understand the nature of the event without the need for extra detail. This is apparent in the letters to Mary Tooth from both Bangham and Whitmore, despite their different perspectives on the effectiveness of the music. Although Tooth was not present at the gathering Bangham describes and was not a member of the same class meeting, he is able safely to assume that she will be familiar with the hymns he quotes and will be able to appreciate their appropriateness. While access to a common hymnal may easily explain mutual familiarity, the matter of the hymns’ suitability and the feeling of being constrained to sing go deeper. McInelly notes how the communal act of singing was itself important to early Methodists, which resonates with Bangham's account: ‘hymns contributed to the experience of identification, inasmuch as music coordinates the physical and emotional responses of singers and listeners, who, though residing in different bodies, experience within those bodies the same rhythmic cycles simultaneously.’Footnote ¹⁶ Bangham is not simply reporting the facts of the event to Tooth, but implicitly inviting her to participate vicariously through an imagined listening experience of her own. He is confident that through the references to the hymns, she will recognize and affirm the sincerity of the devotion and fellowship he describes and understand the ways in which communal singing contribute to it.

As Whitmore's letter shows, correspondents did not always identify specific hymns when writing about their musical experiences. While the omission of such details limited the scope for the reader to recreate the precise experience in their mind, it did not, however, necessarily restrict them from appreciating the piety or spiritual intensity of the occasion being described in a more general sense, as demonstrated in a letter to the noted Methodist evangelist Mary Fletcher from her niece Mary Whittingham:

In this extract, Mary Whittingham, whose husband was an Evangelical Church of England clergyman, makes three distinct mentions of singing, each of which is intended to testify to the spiritual integrity of the participants and events being described and of the life of her husband's parish church more generally. The specific characterization of the gathered clergy as pious individuals is important, as it implicitly reveals that the Whittinghams considered other local clergy, who presumably did not share their evangelicalism, as lacking in personal piety. Although there is mention of reading and praying, it is singing that stands out as the dominant communal activity and thus the most obvious manifestation of piety. Although the clergy and the women were physically separate for part of the evening, the more detailed description of the latter's activities affirms that there was no division in terms of the devoutness of all of those gathered. Mary Whittingham's reference to the parish having achieved ‘good music and singing’ in the church exhibits a shared understanding between her and her aunt that such musical accomplishment was a necessary aspect of a thriving Christian community. The description of the way in which music, specifically hymn singing, pervaded the later, less formally religious part of the gathering provides further evidence of Whittingham's understanding, which she is confident her aunt shares, that appropriate music can both encourage and sustain a religious atmosphere and that it is a desirable response to the presence of such a spirit. Although no specific hymns are identified, the music is a key way in which Whittingham is able to communicate her pleasure and satisfaction to her aunt, safe in the knowledge that Mary Fletcher will interpret this as evidence of the success of the gathering.

The listening experiences found in the letters of Bangham and Whittingham are concerned with the impact of the experience on the individual concerned and the small circle of acquaintances in whose company it had taken place. Such examples are common and while the situations they describe vary considerably from small, intimate gatherings to larger public occasions, they are united through a focus on the significance of the experience for largely known individuals. However, those who exercised ministry on a larger scale, including lay and ordained preachers, also wrote about listening experiences in their private correspondence. Their descriptions are marked out by a tendency to interpret the emotional and spiritual responses of congregations at large and to make this closely bound up with their personal reactions and feelings.

Serena Thorne, a preacher in the Bible Christian Connexion, wrote a detailed letter to her father in May 1866, describing a preaching tour of South Wales.Footnote ¹⁸ Despite the communication challenges caused by the language barrier between the English-speaking Thorne, from Devon, and the largely Welsh-speaking congregations she addressed, she makes clear to her father that she thought her preaching was well received and that she regarded the tour as a success. Hymn singing, as might be expected, featured prominently in the services Thorne attended and the particular character of its performance affected her deeply. The language issue emerges early in the letter and particularly related to the hymns:

Thorne is thus unable to understand the hymns, although her initial assumption about the congregation's ability to understand her preaching without the aid of the local minister's translation changes later in the letter. She describes how, after she had preached at a service in Cwm-Afon, the local minister ‘arose and gave then an outline of what I had said I suppose; very briefly though, for they gave him to understand that they knew[?] pretty well what I had said’.Footnote ²⁰ After recounting the three services in a single day in Cwm-Afon, the last of which she estimated drew a congregation of more than a thousand, she gives a general account of the impression that the Welsh hymn singing has made upon her:

Although the description refers to hymn singing in general, it is significant that it follows her account of preaching to large congregations at Cwm-Afon, one of many places that were clearly fertile preaching grounds for her evangelistic ministry. The large crowds and the concentration of three services in a single day would surely have contributed to the intensity of the occasion and the fervour of the singing. She describes its character and effect in richly spiritual terms; the distinction between ‘force’ and the ‘power of perfect melody’ appears as a marker of its integrity and there is a strong sense in which the singing is a conduit both for expressing praise to God and for receiving blessings from him. Factors such as these are among those that Hempton identifies as particularly potent in engendering an atmosphere of lively religiosity:

Although Thorne describes the effect on herself, she also infers its impact upon others present. Whether or not the ‘broken-hearted’ felt ‘reconciliation and peace’ cannot be ascertained, but Thorne's assertions indicate a confidence that the spiritual benefits and effects of hymn singing would be shared and recognized by those present and by her father as he read the letter.

Thorne's particular reference to the ‘Welsh singing’ suggests that her listening experience is informed by common cultural perceptions concerning Welsh musicality. The close interrelationship of singing and Protestant nonconformity was a significant element in establishing music, especially communal singing, as a key aspect of Welsh identity. The rapid growth of Welsh Calvinistic Methodism in the eighteenth century and the fervour of its gatherings were key contributing factors to a tradition and sense of identity that was both self-perpetuating and widely acknowledged; as Rachelle Barlow notes, the ‘idea of emotionalism is crucial for the purpose of understanding singing, a collective practice, not only within the Welsh religious setting but as a marker of social identity for the people of Wales’.Footnote ²³ This context may, in part, have shaped Thorne's readiness to regard the singing as a marker of religious devotion and spirituality, and helped to affirm her sense of the success of her preaching ministry in South Wales. It is also significant that, because of the language barrier, her reaction could not have been entirely rational; despite not understanding the textual meanings of the hymns she heard sung, she is nonetheless able confidently to ascribe a particular emotional and spiritual character to the singing.Footnote ²⁴ The importance of actually hearing the music is crucial, in this instance bringing together three distinct aspects that helped shape the listening experience. The broader context of the popular cultural belief in the inherent musicality of the Welsh, the local context of an evangelistic preaching tour and the large scale of the gathering all combined to make this a powerful experience worthy of recording at length.

While the accounts considered so far range from Whitmore's hope that singing will have contributed something positive to the meeting, through Bangham and Whittingham's clear connection between singing and spirituality, to Thorne's rhapsodic reaction, they all share an essential belief in the positive value of congregational song, whether potential or realized. However, this was not always the case and other letters are more circumspect about the role of music in religious activity and the sincerity of the spiritual responses it seems to evoke. Elizabeth Ritchie, a Methodist class leader, wrote to Mary Fletcher about a revival meeting in Sheffield, in which enthusiastic singing was used by those present in an attempt to demonstrate religious conviction:

Ritchie and Fletcher regularly exchanged letters and Ritchie's willingness to express concerns about the sincerity of the revival meeting she had observed indicates the private nature of the correspondence and the trust between the two women. The use of music plays an important role in forming her opinion of the event; the words ‘whenever they thought …’ carry an overtone of criticism at the willingness of the assembly to break into celebratory song so readily. There is a clear sense in which she recognizes the frequent singing to be symptomatic of an environment that was being manipulated to induce apparently intense spiritual reactions. Her decision to leave before the end of the meeting strongly implies her disdain for the events she witnessed; here, the listening experience is a key part in her negative assessment of the occasion as an insincere or exaggerated religious experience from which she wished to dissociate herself.

As with the more positive reactions, Ritchie's account emphasizes that listening experiences are deeply invested with meaning. In this instance, the words being sung, the doxology from a familiar hymn by Thomas Ken, cannot be the source of the problem. Instead, it is the context and frequency of their use in apparently attempting to manipulate the mood of the gathering to which she objects. Once again, a listening experience and the particular musical event it describes are used as evidence to support and explain a particular religious viewpoint and interpretation. Like other correspondents, Ritchie relies upon her reader's personal acquaintance with the repertoire, practice and context she relates and uses the listening experience to assist Fletcher in forming her own opinion. More generally, the privately recounted listening experiences discussed all indicate the important role music was recognized to have in religious life and expressions of personal and corporate spirituality. The familiarity with the repertoire and practice of hymnody assumed by correspondents indicates that these listening experiences should be regarded as unusually remarkable in some way against a backdrop of a religious culture that was permeated by hymns. The listening experiences both shape and are shaped by events that are attributed significant meaning, whether personally, collectively, or vicariously. It is through accounts such as these that the rootedness of communal hymn singing in Methodist practice and identity, as well as in Evangelical Christianity more broadly, may be more fully understood. Forasmuch as the precise details of hymn selections and the theological meanings of texts are significant factors in formally establishing the Evangelical credentials of a particular hymnal and those who advocate its use, it is the practice of hymnody in particular contexts that enables it to be invested with meaning among the religious community at large. In Astley's terms, it contributes profoundly to the expression of ordinary theology, as will be explored in the final section below.

Listening Experiences in Published Spiritual Life Writing

Stimulated by John Wesley in the eighteenth century, Methodism rapidly developed a strong and wide-ranging print culture, which was inherited and pursued with vigour by the various nineteenth-century offshoots belonging to the broad Methodist family. Prominent among the range of publications produced by and for Methodists were devotional magazines, typically issued monthly, in which sermons and articles on aspects of religious and general history designed for intellectual stimulation appeared alongside life writing and accounts of religious endeavours intended to provide spiritual encouragement and sustenance to the readers. The Primitive Methodist Magazine is a particularly rich source of such accounts from the nineteenth century and additionally often draws attention to the humble social origins of the subjects of the conversion narratives and obituaries it published. This points to the necessity of considering editorial influence in the selection and characteristics of the life writing that was published and, more generally, the ways in which the magazine's aims and established customs shaped the content that contributors submitted. Calder argues that the Primitive Methodist Magazine, edited for many years by Hugh Bourne, one of the dominant figures in the movement, was long used as a means of promoting and perpetuating the denomination's chosen self-identity. He demonstrates that its contents were often chosen to emphasize the hardships and hostilities faced by the early Primitive Methodists and suggests that the printing of obituaries was selective.Footnote ²⁶ Furthermore, accounts of mission and revival work are highly likely to have been self-selecting; those submitting copy for publication would be likely to emphasize successful activity and the editorial process would surely prioritize those stories that were most likely to give the readership hope and encouragement.

In contrast to the variety of reactions observed in private letters, published recollections of participatory experiences found in conversion and deathbed narratives cast hymn singing in a uniformly positive light, using it as evidence of the spirituality and devotion of the subject. For example, the account of the death of Dinah Park, wife of a glass bottle maker, makes clear that she was a devout Primitive Methodist and mentions specific hymns that she sung as death approached:

Hymn singing is a mark of Park's personal faith and the identification of particular hymns indicates that her obituarist expected readers to be familiar with them. Two of the texts referred to in this obituary emphasize the great spiritual value accorded to appropriate conduct by both the dying and the mourners in nineteenth-century Britain.Footnote ²⁸ Although the words ‘O death! Where is thy sting? O grave! Where is thy victory’ are scriptural, from 1 Corinthians 15, they held a particular musical significance in British Christianity in this period, thanks to a popular set-piece anthem by Edward Harwood, a setting of Alexander Pope's ‘Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame’, which ends with these very words. The final text mentioned, Isaac Watts’ ‘I'll praise my Maker while I've breath’ was the hymn reportedly sung by Methodism's revered father-figure, John Wesley, on his deathbed in 1791. Thus, for many readers, both would have had a deeper meaning even beyond that of deathbed hymn singing in general; the recording of these details is therefore particularly important.

Typical of Evangelical Christianity at large, Primitive Methodism placed a significant emphasis on religious conversion and hymn singing is often noted to have played a part in such experiences. Accounts were frequently included in the Primitive Methodist Magazine; William Swain's memoir is a striking example:

As with Park's deathbed narrative, a specific hymn is mentioned, and the singing is clearly linked to the spiritual outcomes witnessed. Accounts such as these align with the magazine's general purpose of sharing good news stories and encouraging readers in their own religious devotion. Beyond this, mention of specific hymns invites readers familiar with them to have imaginary listening experiences of their own by evoking aural memories. Owing to the separate circulation of hymn texts and tunes, such imagined experiences may have had different soundtracks from the original event, but this would have deepened the personal impact of the accounts for readers, rather than distancing them from the events and effects described.

Accounts of meetings and events from around the Connexion also frequently contain references to the powerful impact of hymn singing. In contrast to the life writing examples, these tend not to identify specific hymns, but to refer more generally to singing in the context of the whole event. An account from the Horncastle Circuit in Lincolnshire exemplifies this type of writing:

The lack of detail is probably pragmatic; both in the prayer meeting and the subsequent procession described, singing is likely to have been a prolonged activity, using many different hymns. However, given that such activities were relatively common in Primitive Methodism, such details would not be needed in order for the reader to imagine the event clearly in their own mind. In common with the life writing examples, this account has undoubtedly been selected to further the magazine's aims, and this may well have influenced its author in making explicit the spiritual benefits and sense of divine blessing that were felt and to which the singing contributed.

Quotations from hymns also feature prominently in many spiritual autobiographies, often associated with significant moments in the subject's life. The Life Story of Gipsy Cornelius Smith, first published in 1890, is a remarkable autobiography of a Methodist convert descended from a family that travelled around several south-eastern counties in England. A listening experience from his school days, after his parents had settled for a time in Cambridge, provides an early indication of the spiritual significance he attaches to hymn singing:

Similarly detailed descriptions feature in accounts of his wife's death, his own and his brother's conversions, and in his work as a travelling evangelist. His conversion experience is particularly richly described:

Once again, listening to the singing of hymns is the trigger for this religious experience. Notably, both the text of the hymn concerned, and a passage of scripture are quoted; both serve to legitimize the experience. Such an appeal to scripture is unsurprising, given its unique authority in Christianity, but the mention of a particular hymn alongside it indicates not only the impact the singing had on Smith, but his awareness that readers would be able to relate to both aspects of this experience, auditory and emotional. Further evidence of the extent to which hymns informed Smith's spirituality can be found in the penultimate sentence of this extract; the sequence described is remarkably similar to that found in the final couplet of the fourth stanza of Charles Wesley's highly popular hymn, ‘And can it be’: ‘My chains fell off, my heart was free;/I rose, went forth and followed Thee’.Footnote ³³ It is impossible to prove whether or not Smith intended this as a deliberate paraphrase, although in the context of a retrospective autobiography written for the express purpose of encouraging others ‘to magnify the grace of God, and consecrate all their powers to the service of Jesus Christ’, it seems feasible that the words were carefully chosen rather than a subconscious allusion.Footnote ³⁴ Irrespective, taken together with the direct quotations, it indicates that he expected his readers to be familiar with the hymns that had so affected his own religious life.

The listening experiences found in published accounts differ from those found in private writings in their uniformly positive attitude towards hymn singing and in the level of detail they commonly provide. These aspects reflect the different motivations for writing and publishing, and the anticipated audiences. However, there are also significant similarities. The expectation of familiarity with particular hymns or the uses of hymnody more generally is common to both types of account. At one level, given that they were written either to a spiritual confidant or for a religious publication, this is unsurprising and represents a safe assumption on the part of the authors. However, it also underlines the deep sense of spirituality that such listening experiences were able to evoke and that their potential for doing so was widely recognized. McInelly's description of the strong bonds literature helped create among eighteenth-century Methodists is readily applicable to their nineteenth-century counterparts: ‘Whether in conversation or in writing, Methodists forged a sense of community, individual conviction, and self-understanding by reading their religious lives in and through the narratives of others.’Footnote ³⁵ These listening experiences point to a dispersed religious community whose shared identity was in part sustained by the ways in which their everyday lives and religious activities were saturated with hymns.

Listening Experiences and Ordinary Theology

The thorough integration of hymns and the listening experiences associated with them into the writings of nineteenth-century Methodists is a powerful expression of ordinary theology, or, the beliefs and processes of believing of its lay members. Astley's emphasis on the processes and contexts though which people's beliefs are formed and expressed helps draw attention to the potency of listening experiences in shaping individuals’ religious thought and awareness. Regarding the way in which faith is learned, he argues that practices and resources warrant careful attention:

Hymnody's didactic role was well understood by Methodists. The chief legacy of Charles Wesley was a vast corpus of theologically rich lyrics, written to implant Methodism's characteristic Evangelical Arminianism into the minds of its early followers and to convey the essence of orthodox Christian doctrine in memorable phrases. This aspect of Methodism's hymnody has been widely understood and analysed, as well as being appreciated by other Christian traditions. However, listening experiences such as those discussed above foreground the place that music and musical participation played in the process of learning the faith. While lyrics primarily promoted and assisted intellectual learning, music facilitated experiential learning, enabling individuals to take ownership of their beliefs in a way that was both deeply personal yet experienced in community.

The close connection between the act of singing or hearing and the intensity of religious feeling in accounts such as those by Bangham and Thorne indicates the importance that was attached to such immersive experiences by those involved. While, as in Bangham's account, weight may be given to the appropriateness of the lyrics for a specific situation, the ideas or values they expressed were embodied for the writers through the musical realization of the words. Interpreting these listening experiences therefore requires acknowledgment that they were often experiences in which the authors participated by singing as well as listening. However, this does not marginalize the importance of listening, for the intensity of many of the experiences discussed arises in part from their communal nature, which, in musical terms, emerges from the author hearing other voices in accord with their own. In fact, such accounts point to the ways in which participation through singing can create a deeply engaged and affective listening experience; while the level of participation may have varied in the accounts described above, they all describe a type of experience that is distinct from that which might take place in a presentational context, such as a concert. Participation heightens attentiveness, which could lead to a thoroughly immersive musical and spiritual experience.

As noted earlier, the legitimacy of such accounts relied on the mutual understanding of the role of hymnody between writers and readers. While some experiences might have been dramatically life-changing, many more were more immediately concerned with the sustenance or renewal of an already existing faith; such experiences, shared in a spirit of mutual accountability and encouragement, belong to the type of everyday religious experience identified by Zahl: ‘minor revelatory experiences of divine guidance in the day-to-day lives of Christians, impulses and feelings that shape the interpretation of scriptural texts, and, at least for some in the nineteenth century, supernatural healings and deliverances.’Footnote ³⁷ The examples discussed above suggest that hymns could be both the instigator of such experiences, as shown in Smith's memoirs, and, in the case of Bangham's account, for instance, the natural response to particular religious feelings.

In developing the concept, Astley outlines a number of characteristics of ordinary theology; several are readily observable in many listening experiences, while consideration of the typical content and language of listening experiences demands a modification of some others. He notes that ordinary theology is a ‘learned and learning’ theology, in that its exponents frequently make reference to the sources that inspired and nourished their faith and acknowledge that their beliefs continue to be shaped by their experiences.Footnote ³⁸ Listening experiences testifying to the effects of hymns in religious conversion, such as Smith's, demonstrate that the words and music sung or heard in Christian worship could play a formative role in personal faith. Examples such as a letter from Benjamin Longmore to Mary Tooth reveal that hymns were certainly regarded in this way; Longmore is eager to discover the details of a hymn he can only vaguely recall from the time of his own conversion and enlists Tooth to help identify it:

It is clear from this account that the hymn made a strong and lasting impression upon Longmore, even though he cannot recall the precise text. Mary Fletcher's frequent repetition of the hymn evidently contributed to its impact on him, pointing again to the value placed on the experience of hymns. Longmore's desire to find out the exact details indicates that it remained part of his identity as a person of faith, or, in Astley's terms, part of his ordinary theology.

Among the other characteristics set out by Astley and readily observed in many listening experiences are that ordinary theology is both significant and meaningful. The significance to the individual authors examined above lies in their determination to set down a record of their experiences; as Astley notes, ‘at a deep level, ordinary beliefs are usually taken very seriously by the people who have them’.Footnote ⁴⁰ Regular private correspondence on spiritual matters was a well-established part of nineteenth-century Methodist culture; the deep and sustained level of communication indicates that correspondents attached considerable significance to the events, emotions and experiences they described, including those related to hymnody. Furthermore, the process of self-examination, reflection and accountability involved in writing about such matters emphasizes the seriousness with which religious practices and the responses they elicited were taken. Referring to the prevalence of the practice of letter-writing among women in the early years of evangelicalism, Ward highlights its role in deepening their faith: ‘Where correspondence plumbed the wiles of the heart it strengthened the women who gathered round all the leading men of God.’Footnote ⁴¹ The variety of roles fulfilled by the Methodist women directly and indirectly involved in the exchanges of letters indicates that such distinctions by gender were by no means rigid, but the fundamental point about the spiritual sustenance gained from engaging in letter writing remained true.Footnote ⁴²

The meaning attached to some listening experiences is clear from several of the accounts discussed above. However, it is important to regard the more emotionally charged accounts as representing an exceptional instance of something that was entirely commonplace.Footnote ⁴³ Hymn singing pervaded Methodist life, so would have been an entirely familiar and expected part of the regular devotional activities of the letter writers and subjects of biographical writing mentioned above. However, on occasions such as those highlighted it was associated with peculiarly intense religious feelings, through which it acquired a meaning beyond that contained in the words sung. Bangham's sense of being ‘constrain'd to sing’ and Thorne's emphasis on the quality of the singing at Cwm-Afon emphasize that the role that the performative nature of hymnody played in the attribution of meaning. Such meanings are understood in the context of a person's whole life, assuring them that they have a purpose within the context of their religious worldview.Footnote ⁴⁴ The communal element of congregational song emerges as a key factor in the shaping and interpretation of experiences. As communal gatherings were the main context for Methodists’ exposure to hymns, they cannot thus be considered to guarantee a sense of heightened spirituality, yet when such feelings occurred, the presence and participation of fellow believers contributed to the meanings attached to them. Consideration of these aspects of the listening experiences adds weight to Hempton's claims that ‘sensory perceptions were as important as the verbal content of Victorian sermons, even if the latter have proved more accessible to religious historians. Nothing could be clearer from nineteenth-century novels, spiritual autobiographies and the ubiquitous Victorian hymns, however, than the emotional power of religious assemblies.’Footnote ⁴⁵ Sharing the experience, both during its occurrence and in writing about it afterwards, was an opportunity for affirmation, whether expressed or tacitly implied. This connects closely with two further characteristics of ordinary theology, its religious nature, grounded in the practices of the believer, and its nature as a form of ‘onlook theology’: self-involving and providing a way of making sense of things observed and experienced. Astley explores this in relation to visual stimuli, but his argument remains valid if hearing is substituted for looking: ‘the experience, the looking, is already an interpreting; it is an onlook, and experiencing-as.’Footnote ⁴⁶ The act of recording the experience in words may well prompt a further level of intellectual interpretation and reflection, but it is clear from accounts such as Thorne's that hearing or participating in vigorous congregational singing could itself be revelatory.

Those experiences recounted in private letters also accord with Astley's observation that much ordinary theology is subterranean, in that it is hidden from public view and not expressed in ways that carry some sense of authority, such as through sermons or published treatises.Footnote ⁴⁷ However, the spiritual biography contained in religious magazines and published autobiographies obviously does not match this characteristic. Ordinary theology is a helpful way of understanding the differences between the private and public writings, described above. Published accounts, driven by their evangelistic or devotional agenda to prioritize positive stories reflected a less rounded image of religious life than can be found in private correspondence. Ordinary theology, expressed in the security of personal communication, acknowledges doubt, as in Whitmore's letter, and also understands that religious behaviour and practice can be subject to manipulation and over-exuberance, as expressed by Ritchie. In this way, it reflects the real experiences and thoughts of ordinary believers. The experience of music, as noted above, could contribute to such concerns and doubts, further emphasizing its importance in ordinary theology's work of creating meaning.

As examples of ordinary theology, these accounts of participatory listening experiences differ in several ways from more formal writings about the role of hymnody, such as the prefaces to hymnals. Hymnal editors and committees tended to place greater emphasis on the richness of the hymn texts they included; for example, the preface to the Wesleyan Connexion's 1877 revision of A Collection of Hymns draws attention to its inclusion of further hymns by Charles Wesley, describing how ‘the force and sublimity of thought, the depth and tenderness of feeling, and the spirit of fervent piety displayed in them, will fully vindicate the judgment of John Wesley respecting his brother's poetical remains’.Footnote ⁴⁸ Similarly, the compilers of The Primitive Methodist Hymnal (1889) note that ‘the collections of Watts and Wesley still supply the largest number of hymns for a good hymnal, especially for Methodist worship, yet in these pages will be found selections from numerous other authors and translators’.Footnote ⁴⁹ Similarly, on musical matters, there is a concern with promoting good standards: the Wesleyan hymnal describes the purpose of the musical selections as ‘to improve the “Service of Song in the House of the Lord”’, while The Primitive Methodist Hymnal’s committee notes that they sought ‘to provide a book adapted to the increased musical culture of our organists, choirs, and congregations’.Footnote ⁵⁰ While such writings and the accounts of everyday participants both affirm hymnody's spiritual richness, their points of emphasis tend to be different. Hymnal prefaces seek to establish the credentials of their contents against formal understandings of doctrine, or assumed markers of aesthetic judgment, whereas ordinary theology prioritises contextual significance and the experience of participation.

Alongside the points of convergence between listening experiences and the characteristics of ordinary theology, there is one element of significant difference, which calls for some modification of Astley's concept. Astley describes ordinary theology as being tentative in its expression, in that its exponents frequently couch the feelings and beliefs they describe in ways that acknowledge their lack of expert knowledge and that convey a lack of confidence in the appropriateness of their expression.Footnote ⁵¹ This characteristic is closely linked to his description of ordinary theology as being expressed in the ‘mother tongue’, or, using the everyday language familiar to its writers.Footnote ⁵² While both elements are clearly present in much private correspondence, the custom of quoting hymn texts, sometimes at length, to help convey the spirit and meaning of a listening experience significantly alters the nature of these accounts in relation to ordinary theology.

McInelly draws attention to the trope of the ‘unspeakable’ in Methodist spiritual writings, arguing that writers relied on a shared understanding that certain intense aspects of religious experiences defied verbal description, arguing that ‘we should not be surprised, then, that Methodists often relied solely on the words of other believers to describe their innermost thoughts and feelings’.Footnote ⁵³ This reliance on the words of hymns demonstrates the high spiritual value placed upon them by many Methodists; Stromberg's claim that the similarly common practice of weaving biblical quotations into personal accounts is ‘an ongoing means of linking the sacred and the profane, of construing the present in terms of the eternal’ might equally be applied to the quotation of hymns.Footnote ⁵⁴ McInelly goes on to comment on the ways in which the musical practice of communal singing, with its dynamic relationship between the individual believer and the community of faith, was a significant factor in generating religious experiences for Methodists.Footnote ⁵⁵ Several of the accounts considered above give a clear sense that it was through vocal or auditory participation that the words of hymns acquired a deeper meaning at a more personal level.

The words and musical practice of congregational hymnody have important implications for ordinary theology. Quotations from hymn texts can be seen to add a degree of validity and confidence not found in the tentative expressions observed by Astley. It is tempting to bind this tightly to Methodism's unique concept of authorized hymnody, whereby individual hymns and whole hymnals were given formal approval by the conferences that exercised ecclesiastical governance over the various Methodist bodies in nineteenth-century Britain.Footnote ⁵⁶ Authorized hymns and hymnals were understood to be in accordance with and representative of Methodist theology and doctrine, giving them a higher status compared to other Christian traditions. However, the relationship between the concept of authorized hymnody and localized practice has never been entirely straightforward. Other hymns have always been sung by Methodists and should not necessarily be regarded as contrary to its theology or doctrine.Footnote ⁵⁷ The sense of legitimacy conveyed in the listening experiences is more likely to have derived from the popular acclaim of the hymns in question; in the case of private correspondence, the assumed approval of the reader mattered more than a hymn's official status at an ecclesial level. The quotations may serve to validate the experience being described for author and reader alike. The emphasis on the practice of hymn singing indicates that ordinary theology cannot be limited to solely verbal forms of expression. While hymns inevitably and importantly employ words, to which believers often attached significant value, the listening experiences convey a commonly held belief that engaged participation in musical performance could create and deepen religious meanings. Musical realization of hymns could, at least on occasion, give voice to the ‘unspeakable’. Ordinary theology and participatory listening experiences associated with Christian hymnody are symbiotically related, together providing a meaningful way for understanding and interpreting the emotional and spiritual depth of attachment to hymns displayed by many lay Methodists, and through those hymns to the Christian faith that they encouraged, sustained and helped to spread.