wn
a near relationship to these glorious verses. Ingalls, one of the
constellation of early Puritan psalmodists, to which Billings and Swan
belonged, evidently loved the hymn, and composed his "New Jerusalem" to
the verse, "From the third heaven," and his "Northfield" to "How long,
dear Saviour." The former is now sung only as a reminiscence of the
music of the past, at church festivals, charity fairs and
entertainments of similar design, but the action and hearty joy in it
always evoke sympathetic applause. "Northfield" is still in occasional
use, and it is a jewel of melody, however irretrievably out of fashion.
Its union to that immortal stanza, if no other reason, seems likely to
insure its permanent place in the lists of sacred song.

John Cole's "Annapolis," still found in a few hymnals with these words,
is a little too late to be called a contemporary piece, but there are
some reminders of Ingalls' "New Jerusalem" in its style and vigor, and
it really partakes the flavor of the old New England church music.

Jeremiah Ingalls was born in Andover, Mass., March 1, 1764. A natural
fondness for music increased with his years, but opportunities to
educate it were few and far between, and he seemed like to become no
more than a fairly good bass-viol player in the village choir. But his
determination carried him higher, and in time his self-taught talent
qualified him for a singing-school master, and for many years he
travelled through Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont, training the
raw vocal material in the country towns, and organizing choirs.

Between his thirtieth and fortieth years, he composed a number of tunes,
and, in 1804 published a two hundred page collection of his own and
others' music, which he called the _Christian Harmony_.

His home was for some time in Newberry, Vt., but he subsequently lived
at Rochester and at Hancock in the same state.

Among the traditions of him is this anecdote of the origin of his famous
tune "Northfield," which may indicate something of his temper and
religious habit. During his travels as a singing-school teacher he
stopped at a tavern in the town of Northfield and ordered his dinner. It
was very slow in coming, but the inevitable "how long?" that formulated
itself in his hungry thoughts, instead of sharpening into profane
complaint, fell into the rhythm of Watts' sacred line--and the tune came
with it. To call it "Northfield" was natural enough; the place where its