The National tribune., 1910-11-10
THH BATTLE HYMN OF THH RE
PUBLIC.

ay1zed and That Given as tho Orig
tnai.
Plain. everyday newspapers some
times make errors In the rush of COW
ering hurry-up stories. but these are
always considered inexcusable. and the
obscurest reader of the penny-a-day
publication viii descend upon the edi-
tor in wrathful amazement at the one
error in the 200 or more items Cow
cred" In that days issue. It Is because
OF the rush work that it takes to finish
up a daily newspaper that these errors
creep in, but in a great weekly like
the Literary Digest ono looks for per-
lection. Even there, however, the
reader is doomed to disappointment. In
the current issue of the Literary Di-
gest is a page headed Letters and
Art" In the center of this page is a
picture of Julia Ward Howe, and the
article twined about that loved name
is entitled Author of the Battle
Hymn" The article opens With the
news that Mrs. Howe is dead in her
91st year, all minds turn to the great
hymn that made her name famous"
The Literary Digest then quotes from
the New York Evening Post the story
AS written by Julia Ward Howe herself
of the manner and the time in which
she came to produce the Rattle Hymn
of the Republic. The Literary Digest
then printed the following:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the
coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the wine from
where the grapes of wrath are
stored:
He hath Ioosed the fateful lightnings
OF his terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
L have seen him in the watchfires of
an hundred circling camps,
Thcy have huildcd him an altar in the
evening dews and damps.
I can read his righteous sentence by
the dim and fiarlng lamps:
His day is marching on.
L have read burning gospel writ in
fiery rows of steel:
''As ye deal with my cnutemuers SO
with You nay grace shall deal"
Let the hero born of woman crush the
serpent with his heel:
our God is marching on.
He has sounded up the trumpet that
shall never call retreat:
He has washed the earths duh bosom
with high ecstatic heat.
Oh. be swift. my soul, to answer him;
be jubilant my feet:
our Goa Is marching on.
In the sweetness of the lilies he was
born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that shines
out on you and me;
AS he died to make men holy, let US
die to make men free.
Our God is marching on.
He is coming like the glory of the
morning on the wave.
He is wisdom to the mighty; he is sue
cor to the brave;
SO the world shall be his footstool and
the soul of Time his slave;
Our God is marching on.
1t then quotes the following from
the New York Tribune:
That one ringing and resplendent
lyric seems to stand apart, in class
of its own- ConSpicuously above not
only the rest of her works, but also
above the great mass of writings of that
time. it stands as the product of in
spiration and as in turn q potent source
of inspiration. Those who have heard
the swing and the surge Of its re-
sounding lines as sung by an army
on the march or by a great multitude
impassioued in their earnestness can
realize something of the spiritual force
which 1t has exerted upon millions and
"
people engaged in a great campaign
for freedom"
Can anyone find anything ringing
and resplendeat" or that seems to
stand apart in class of its own in
the mongrel verses which the Literary
Digest calls Julia Ward Howe's Bat
tie Hymn of the Republic? Is there
single line of the thing after the
second verse which would be a potent
source of inspiration to amy of those
who have heard the swing and the
surge of its resounding lines as sung
by an army on the march or by a great
multitude impassioned in their earnest
ness?
As matter of fact, the poem printed
by the Literary Digest is horrible
plagiarism of the magnificently patriotic
poem written ny Julia Ward Howe late
1861. The original poem,
by Julia Ward Howe, a fac-simile of
which the writer has before her, has
but fiye verses. The poem which the
Literary Digest prints has six awful
jingles, which bear no more relation to
the real poem of Julia Ward Howe
than the poems of the poet laureate
Austin bear to those of the immortal
The Literary Digest could
not even let those four first splendid
lines stand ungarbled.
He is trampling out the wine from
where the grapes of wrath are
stored"
the Literary Digest sings. 1t should
read:
He is trampIng out the vintage where
the grapes of wrath are stored"
In the second verse they have garb-
ed the third line and made it
II can read his righteous sentence"
when it should be
II have read his righteous sentence"
In the third verse, the first line
should be
Il have read a fiery gospel writ in
FURNISHED rows of STEEL
instead of the ridiculous line of the
plagiarist.
The fourth verse is something awful
as compared with the fourth verse of
the original, and is so murdered that
it Is impossible to correct it. except by
the original:
He has sounded forth the trumpet
that shall never call retreat;
He is sitting out the hearts of men be-
fore his judgment seat;
o, be swift, my soul. to answer him!
be jubilant my feet!
Our God is marching on"
The fifth verse, which is one of the
sweetest sermons preached since the
life work of the Son of Man was COM
pIeted. has been murdered by the sac
hand of the iconoclastic pIa-
giarist. 1t should read as folIows: