Poetica: "A Student's Evening Hymn" by James Clerk Maxwell
By Dr. Melissa Cain Travis
Welcome to Poetica, the monthly poetry column of Shadowlands Dispatch! This month, we are pleased to feature “A Student’s Evening Hymn” by James Clerk Maxwell, followed by an analysis and reflection by Dr. Melissa Cain Travis, President of the Society for Women of Letters.
A Student’s Evening Hymn
By James Clerk Maxwell (June 13, 1831—November 5, 1879)
James Clerk Maxwell was born in 1831 in Edinburgh, Scotland. He studied at the universities of Cambridge and Edinburgh. At only 25 years old, he became a professor of physics at Marischal College in Aberdeen, Scotland. After 14 scientifically productive years, he was appointed the first Professor of Experimental Physics at Cambridge. Maxwell’s work in electromagnetism revolutionized physics, and Albert Einstein credited him for concepts in mathematical physics that were essential to his own special theory of relativity.
Maxwell was a deeply devoted Christian who relished the study and memorization of Scripture. When he and his wife were engaged to be married, he carried on a Bible study with her through handwritten letters! He is best described as a Victorian evangelical, and he had (what C.S. Lewis later called) a highly charitable, “mere Christian” attitude towards the diversity of Christian traditions.
Very few people know, however, that Maxwell was also a preacher and an avid poet. The sincerity of his faith and his genuine love for the Lord shine through his verse, as does his integrated understanding of knowledge. A man of faith and science, he fully embraced the long, rich tradition of natural theology, gleaning knowledge of the Creator from what has been made (Romans 1:20). To illustrate, I’d like to draw your attention to three particular stanzas of his magnificent poem, “A Student’s Evening Hymn,” but first, slowly take the time to read the poem in its entirety (perhaps more than once!).
I.
Now no more the slanting rays
With the mountain summits dally,
Now no more in crimson blaze
Evening’s fleecy cloudless rally,
Soon shall Night front off the valley
Sweep that bright yet earthly haze,
And the stars most musically
Move in endless rounds of praise.
II.
While the world is growing dim,
And the Sun is slow descending
Past the far horizon’s rim,
Earth's low sky to heaven extending,
Let my feeble earth-notes, blending
With the songs of cherubim,
Through the same expanse ascending,
Thus renew my evening hymn.
III.
Thou that fill’st our waiting eyes
With the food of contemplation,
Setting in thy darkened skies
Signs of infinite creation,
Grant to nightly meditation
What the toilsome day denies—
Teach me in this earthly station
Heavenly Truth to realise.
IV.
Give me wisdom so to use
These brief hours of thoughtful leisure,
That I may no instant lose
In mere meditative pleasure,
But with strictest justice measure
All the ends my life pursues,
Lies to crush and truths to treasure,
Wrong to shun and Right to choose.
V.
Then, when unexpected Sleep,
O’er my long-closed eyelids stealing,
Opens up that lower deep
Where Existence has no feeling,
May sweet Calm, my languor healing,
Lend note strength at dawn to reap
All that Shadows, world-concealing,
For the bold enquirer keep.
VI.
Through the creatures Thou hast made
Show the brightness of Thy glory,
Be eternal Truth displayed
In their substance transitory,
Till green Earth and Ocean hoary,
Massy rock and tender blade
Tell the same unending story—
"We are Truth in Form arrayed."
VII.
When to study I retire,
And from books of ancient sages
Glean fresh sparks of buried fire
Lurking in their ample pages—
While the task my mind engages
Let old words new truths inspire-—
Truths that to all after-ages
Prompt the Thoughts that never tire.
VIII.
Yet if, led by shadows fair
I have uttered words of folly,
Let the kind absorbing air
Stifle every sound unholy.
So when Saints with Angels lowly
Join in heaven’s unceasing prayer,
Mine as certainly, though slowly,
May ascend and mingle there.
IX.
Teach me so Thy works to read
That my faith,—new strength accruing,—
May from world to world proceed,
Wisdom's fruitful search pursuing;
Till, thy truth my mind imbuing,
I proclaim the Eternal Creed,
Oft the glorious theme renewing
God our Lord is God indeed.
X.
Give me love aright to trace
Thine to everything created,
Preaching to a ransomed race
By Thy mercy renovated,
Till with all thy fullness sated
I behold thee face to face
And with Ardour unabated
Sing the glories of thy grace.
Analysis and Reflection
By Dr. Melissa Cain Travis
Isn’t this a gorgeous poem?
In stanza III, Maxwell praises God for filling our eyes “With the food of contemplation / Setting in thy darkened skies / Signs of infinite creation.” Indeed, our Creator touches our intellect and makes himself known through the beauty, harmony, and rational order of the world.
Then, in stanza VI (which I think is my favorite), Maxwell speaks more explicitly about God’s revelation of himself through nature:
Through the creatures Thou hast made
Show the brightness of Thy glory,
Be eternal Truth displayed
In their substance transitory,
Till green Earth and Ocean hoary,
Massy rock and tender blade
Tell the same unending story—
"We are Truth in Form arrayed."
The beauty and wonder of the natural world achieve sublimity; their physical characteristics communicate transcendent truth, such as the wisdom, power, and benevolence of their Creator.
Finally, consider stanza IX, where Maxwell beseeches the Lord: “Teach me so Thy works to read / That my faith,—new strength accruing,— / May from world to world proceed.” He recognizes that the human mind, with its inherent limitations, needs divine guidance to discern more of God’s truth (the transcendent realm) through observation of what he has made (the terrestrial realm). This is what Maxwell means about our faith moving from “world to world.”
In this stanza, the word “read” is very important. As I previously mentioned, Maxwell was passionate about natural theology. Patristic writings employ a wonderful metaphor for natural theology: God’s “book of nature.” For nearly two millennia, theologians and philosophers alike have embraced the “two- books” understanding of divine revelation, the idea that God speaks to us through both the book of Scripture and the book of nature.
Because all truth is God’s truth, those books do not contradict one another in any jot or tittle, but because we are fallen and finite, the project of discerning the harmony is sometimes difficult. It’s a project that we’ll be working on until the end of all things. Right now we see through a glass darkly, but soon we will see face to face.
—Melissa Cain Travis holds a PhD in Humanities (Philosophy) from Faulkner University's Great Books program and an MA in Science and Religion from Biola University. She is a Fellow at Discovery Institute’s Center for Science and Culture, where she teaches adult education courses related to the intersection of science, faith, and philosophy. To learn more about her publications and academic interests, visit melissacaintravis.com.