the Temple worship; sometimes as the murmurs of captives by Babylonian streams; and sometimes as the raptures of the Christian Apostles and Prophets, whose souls were touched by the Divine fire, and quickened with the Divine love. Theirs were truly sacred hymns; and since their days, what gushings and wailings of sacred song have come down to our times from those who sealed their testimony for Christ in the martyr's death; from those who sought, in desert cave and monastic cell, quietness for the due culture of the spiritual life; and even from those who hid themselves in rock-hewn catacombs from the power of the per

secutor.

The spiritual hymns of the Early Fathers, often expressed in rich and suggestive language, are amongst the most treasured possessions of the Church. Hymns are, as it were, the lamps of the Church, set to illumine its story in every generation. They are the lights that shine out here and there through the 'dark ages,' and

their beams light up the shrines, and the altars, and the chapels of modern times. No study of the history of the Christian Church can be more delightful, or more instructive, than that which deals with the great hymns written in different centuries. In all the ages they, more than the creeds of councils, and more than the conflicts of theological warriors, seem to shape the spandrils from whence leap up the arches of the Church's doctrine. By its hymns, the unity of the faith of the Church has been, in great measure, proclaimed.

These pious songs often arose out of very simple incidents. That is a very sweet and solemn sentence in our wonderful Burial Service which reads, 'In the midst of life we are in death.' But it appears to be an adaptation of the first line of the rare old Latin hymn, the Media Vitæ,' composed by a man named Babulus, who was born of a noble family at Zurich. He attained great eminence at St. Gall by his learning, his skill in music and poetry, and his knowledge of the

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Holy Scriptures. The old stories say of him, that no one ever saw him but he was reading, or writing, or praying. The faint sound of a mill-wheel near his abbey is said to have moved him to compose a beautiful air for some pious verses; and looking down into a deep gulf, where some labourers were building a bridge over the abyss, suggested the celebrated hymn that is known as the Media Vitæ.'-Paxton Hood.

The well-known chant, the 'Te Deum Laudamus,' is referred to in the Latin Breviary as the Canticle of Ambrose and Augustine, because of the old legend that, at the baptism of Augustine by Ambrose, it was sung alternately by the two saints, just as it was suggested to them by Divine inspiration. To us, English Protestants, it is interesting to know that it was sung for the first time in the vulgar tongue by the martyr Bishop Ridley, at Herne Church, in Kent, where he was at one time the vicar. The Benedicite,' or Song of the Three Children, was used in the later Jewish

Church, and was commonly sung in the Christian Church in the fourth century. Procter.

When George Herbert lived—he was born A.D. 1593-clergymen were held in very poor social consideration, and were not accounted to be the equals of gentlemen. It was, therefore, no slight sacrifice for a man of noble family to take the clerical office, and become a lightly esteemed village pastor. George Herbert laid his rank, talents, and learning at the foot of the Cross, and worked diligently in this comparatively obscure position. We may follow him into his peaceful parsonage, where he wrote those poems that are so full of pious feeling; then going round among his parishioners encouraging, admonishing, helping, in the true spirit of a Christian pastor, and with all the delicacy of a courteous Christian gentle

man.

'Some of the meanest sort of his parish did so love and reverence Mr. Herbert that they would let their plough rest when his saint's bell rang

to prayer, that they might also offer their devotions to God with him, and then would return back to their plough.' The history of his poems is most touching and beautiful. In his last sickness he presented them to a friend in these words: Sir, I pray you deliver this little book to my dear brother Ferrar, and tell him he shall find in it a picture of the many spiritual conflicts that have passed between God and my soul before I could subject mine to the will of Jesus my Master, in whose service I have now found perfect freedom. Desire him to read it, and then, if he can think it may turn to the advantage of any poor dejected soul, let it be made public; if not, let him burn it, for I and it are less than the least of God's mercies.' Music and poetry, both consecrated to the Master he served, were his great delight; and the Sunday before his death he rose suddenly from his couch, called for one of his instruments, took it into his hand, and said:

'My God! my God! my music