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 University of California. 
 
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THE VOICE 
 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE IN SONG; 
 
 HYMN'S AND HYMN-WMTERS 
 
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 PAUL'S WORK. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 Tin-: translations in the following pages are all new, 
 unless when the contrary is stated; because, the 
 object of the translator being rather historical than 
 literary, it was more essential than in ordinary cases 
 that the colouring of the present should not be 
 thrown over the faith of the past. The first aim, 
 tore, has been to represent faithfully the creed 
 of the hymn-writers — the next, to reproduce their 
 thoughts and images. Wherever this has been found 
 practicable, the original metres have been imitated. 
 
 It is hoped that this volume will explain its own 
 purpose; and it therefore only remains to state the 
 authorities on which the hymns and biographies are 
 given. 
 
 The historical facts are drawn from the ordinary 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 histories and biographies — German, French, and 
 English. 
 
 The Oriental, Ambrosian, and Mediaeval hymns 
 have been selected and translated from those in Da- 
 niel's " Thesaurus Hymnologicus," Mone's " Hymni 
 Latini Medii jEvi," and Trench's "'Sacred Latin 
 Poetry." The hymns of Ephraem Syrus have been 
 re-translated from the German version of the Syriac 
 given in Daniel's "Thesaurus;" all the rest have 
 been rendered from the original languages, and are 
 commended to the charity of those whose greater 
 familiarity with classical literature may detect blem- 
 ishes unperceived by the translator. 
 
 The German hymns have been translated from 
 Dr Leopold Pasig's edition of Luther's " Geistliche 
 Lieder," Albert Knapp's " Liederschatz," and a 
 " Sammlung von Kirchenliedern aus dem Gesang- 
 buche der evangelischen Briidergemeinen ; " the 
 Swedish, from hymns kindly sent to the writer by 
 Swedish friends. 
 
 If the Christian men of former times cannot be 
 our perfect examples, since we and they may own 
 but One, they are still our fathers ; and their creed, 
 
v 
 
 although not our Bible, is nevertheless our precious 
 Bud sacred heritage. It is trusted that the treasures 
 of sacred song, faintly reflected in these translations, 
 may serve to illustrate that unity of faith which 
 binds one age to another through the Commuiiimi 
 of Saints. If they help to raise any hearts to lliin 
 in whom alone that unity is life, the first and dearest 
 purpose of the writer will be attained. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK 
 
 Chap. I. Hymns of the Bible, 1 
 
 II. The u Tersanctus," the "Gloria in Ex- 
 
 CELSIS," AND THE " Te DEOM," . . 12 
 
 III. The Anonymous Greek Hymns, ... 22 
 
 IV. Clement of Alexandria, Ephraem Syrus, 
 
 and Gregory of Nazianzum, ... 88 
 V. St Ambrose and the Ambrosian Hymns, . 71 
 
 VI. Gregory the Great, Venantius Fortunatus, 
 
 and the Venerable Bede, . . .113 
 
 VII. St Bernard, 145 
 
 VIII. Medleval Hymns, 1C7 
 
 IX. Medleval Religion, 199 
 
 X. The Hymns of Germany, . .215 
 
 XI. Swedish Hymns, 245 
 
 XII. ExGLisn Hymns, 
 
 XIII. Hymns of the Church of Rome since the 
 
 Reformation, 283 
 
 Xiv. Conclusion, , . 296 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 INS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 If church history be anything different from secular 
 history, it should be the record of Christian truth, speak- 
 ing through the lives of Christian men ; the story of the 
 
 n selfishness and Divine love, of th< 
 whieh has pierced through and outlived the corruption 
 and decay of States ; the echo of the accents of truth and 
 love, penetrating, like a musical tone, through the market- 
 din and battle-tumult of the world. But, too often, how 
 different is the fact ! With what a weariness of disappoint- 
 ment we turn from pages which seem but the transferring 
 of the old, selfish, secular ambitions to a new arena; the 
 name of truth, and even of God, being merely the weapon 
 of the strife, whilst Self is the god whose glory is con- 
 tended for ! 
 
 Yet we are sure, since the Prince of life arose from the 
 
 tomb, the life of Christianity has never been altogether 
 
 I again ; and to watch for it, and rejoice in it when 
 
 1, seem the only objects for which church history 
 
 is worth being studied. 
 
 And as we watch, much is revealed to us. "We trace 
 Christian life through its various manifestations of love, 
 
 A 
 
2 HYMNS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 and find the golden chain unbroken through the ages, 
 however dim at times the gold may shine. It manifests 
 itself in its expansive form of love to man, in countless 
 works of mercy, in missions, and hospitals, and ransomings 
 of captives, and individual acts of love and self-sacrifice 
 which cannot be numbered. We trace it in its direct 
 manifestation of love to God, in martyrdoms and in 
 hymns; the yielding up of the life to death for truth, 
 and the breathing out of the soul to God in song. 
 
 The object of these pages is to follow the last track, by 
 listening to the voice of that stream of spiritual song 
 which has never been altogether silent on earth; by 
 attempting to reproduce some notes of the song, and 
 some likeness of the singers. 
 
 And may not such a search have its peculiar use, in a 
 day and a land like ours 1 It is, no doubt, difficult to 
 ascertain the true characteristics of the nation or the 
 times we live amongst; partly because we are too near 
 to make the perspective correct, and partly because the 
 atmosphere which colours the scene also colours our own 
 minds. The rumble of the highway we are treading over- 
 powers the roar of the retreating thunder-storm ; the riot 
 of to-day sounds louder than the revolution of the last 
 century ; and thus age after age has seemed to hear in its 
 own tumults the echo of those chariot-wheels which are 
 still long in coming. 
 
 Yet some of the characteristics of the sea we are sailing 
 on we must know, for safety, if not for science. Would 
 it not, for instance, be generally admitted, that the cha- 
 racter of Christian life, in our own time, is rather humane 
 than devotional, its tendency rather outward than upward, 
 
Tin: mm \\i> UK HI 3 
 
 its utterance rather in works of ni< ivy than in songs of 
 praise ? Have we not all to be especially on our guard 
 that we do not make our worship merely public service, 
 and so fail to make our service worship 1 In our own 
 free age and country, when opportunities for doing good 
 are so multiplied, when there is not a talent or a grace 
 but may find its own full and appropriate exercise in the 
 great field of work, may we not learn something from the 
 nun of those more fettered days, when Christian life, 
 hemmed in on all sides but one, rose with ill its force 
 towards the heavens, from which no human tyranny could 
 shut it out ? And thus may we learn more to seek com- 
 munion with God, not merely as the strength for work, 
 but as the end and crown of all work ; not chiefly as the 
 means of life, but its highest object 
 
 Not, indeed, that active and contemplative piety are 
 opposed to each other. Martha's service would have been 
 more efficient had it been less cumbered, had she listened 
 as well as served. Mary, when the time came, could anoint 
 the feet at which she had loved to sit, with ointment 
 whose perfume filled the house. And those who serve God 
 best of all are those who " see His face." 
 
 Nor in these busy times of ours has the service of song 
 ceased on earth; the melody in the heart flows on still, 
 and gushes forth in music; and it is not of an exthn -t 
 species that we think when we search out those old 
 hymns. The accents of the first singers are no dead lan- 
 guage to us, and their life is ours. The first hymn re- 
 corded in the Bible is also the last : the song chanted 
 first on the shores of the Red Sea, echoes back to us from 
 the " sea of glass mingled with fire," 
 
4 HYMNS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 Of the mode of worship in the old patriarchal times, 
 we know little; but, surely, music was not only heard in 
 the city of Cain. Earth can never have been without her 
 song to God. The first wave of promise which flowed in 
 to cover the first wave of sin, must have found its response 
 in the heart of man ; but after the first universal hymn of 
 Eden was broken, and the music of creation fell into a 
 minor, whilst the wail of human sin and sorrow ran across 
 all its harmonies, a long silence reigns in the hymn-book 
 of the Church universal ; and through all the records of 
 violence and judgment, from the flood and the ark, from 
 patriarchal tent and Egyptian kingdom, the only song 
 which has reached us is the wail of a murderer echoing 
 the curse of Cain. 
 
 We read of altar and sacrifice, of meditations in the 
 fields at eventide, of visions, and prayers, and accepted 
 intercessions, and we feel sure that those who walked in 
 the light, like Enoch or Abraham, must have had their 
 hearts kindled into music. But from the green earth 
 rising out of the flood; from the shadow of the great oak 
 at Mamre; from the fountains and valleys and upland 
 pastures of the Promised Land, where the tents of the 
 patriarchs rose amidst their flocks ; from the prisons and 
 palaces of Egypt, we catch no sound of sacred song. So 
 far the stream flows for us underground. 
 
 The first recorded hymn in the Bible is the utterance of 
 the national thanksgiving of Israel by the Bed Sea. When 
 the Church becomes visible, her voice becomes audible. 
 The waves flowed back to their ancient tide-marks, the 
 pathway through the sea was hidden for ever, and, with it, 
 the hosts of the enemies of God and of Israel. The way 
 
THE SONQ OP MOSES. 5 
 
 of escape had become the wall <.f demarcation, and looking 
 on that sea, with all its buried secrets, above its 
 ripple and its roar the song burst from the lips of Moses 
 and the children of Israel 
 
 It was a type of all the psalms which have been sung 
 on earth since. It was a song of victory. It was a song 
 
 lemption. It was " sung to the Lord." T 
 of the dead was beneath that sea, the silence of the desert 
 was around it, and there first it is written that the Song 
 oed through the long wail of the FalL 
 There the first notes of that great chant of victory were 
 chanted which echo along the crystal sea, far, far b< 
 our hearing, into the depths of eternity. 
 
 That song has never ceased since on this earth. One 
 dying voice has carried on its accents to another. From 
 time to time it burst on our ears in a chorus of triumph ; 
 at times, even Elijah can hear no voice but his own. 
 But God has heard it ceaselessly, we may not doubt 
 while some tones, loud and musical in man's ears, 
 failed to pierce beyond the atmosphere of earth, conn 
 melodies, inaudible to us, have reached His ear, and been 
 welcomed by His smile. 
 
 Among the many books which God has caused to be 
 written for us to make up His One Book, — family records, 
 royal chronicles, histories of the past and future, proverb 
 and prophecy, — we have one book which speaks not so 
 much to man from God as to God for man. In the Book 
 of Psalms the third person of the historical narratives, 
 the " Thus saith the Lord" of the law and the prophets, 
 is exchanged for the supplicating or rejoicing " O Lord, 
 my God," " Unto Thee, O Lord, will I sing." Beginning 
 
6 HYMNS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 often in the tumultuous depths, these psalms soar into 
 the calm light of heaven. An inspired liturgy for all 
 time, and the prophetic utterance of a sorrow which knew 
 no equal, they are yet the natural expression of the 
 struggles and hopes, the repentings and thanksgivings of 
 the human hearts who first spoke them. These also are 
 part of that one wondrous hymn of redeemed man to God. 
 It is one warfare, and, therefore, one battle-song suits all 
 alike. Like the other true hymns of the Church militant, 
 David's psalms were written in no soft literary retire- 
 ment, but amidst the struggles of a most eventful and 
 active life. The battle-songs of the Church are written 
 on the battle-field ; her poets are singers because they are 
 believers. 
 
 When David fled from Absalom his son, his heart 
 lifted itself up to "the Lord, his shield;" when Shimei 
 cursed him, he sang praises to the name of the Lord most 
 high ; looking up to the rocks and the wild hill-fortresses 
 among which he had taken refuge from Saul, he called on 
 " the Lord, his fortress and his high tower;" from the flocks 
 he led by green pastures and still waters, in his peaceful 
 youth, his heart turned to " the Lord, his shepherd;" awak- 
 ing in agony from his great sin, he uttered those self- 
 despairing, yet most trustful words, on which the sighs of 
 repenting sinners have taken wing to God during three 
 thousand years. 
 
 It cannot be without purpose that more is revealed to 
 us of the life of the sweet Singer of Israel than of any 
 other man. Otherwise, might we not have thought the song 
 of praise is only for the comparatively sinless ; that sighs, 
 not songs, become the penitent, however freely the " much" 
 
1U SAO OF SONGS. 7 
 
 is forgiven t and thus many a precious box of costly per- 
 fume mi^ht haw been held back in shame, and w.> mi-jlit 
 
 haw msned the leeeon that the d ee p ed music of the 
 Church is mingled with her tears. 
 
 David did indeed appoint an " order of singers,** and 
 he set them, we are told by Nehemiah, over the business 
 of the house of God. And, no doubt, the Lord of the 
 temple has also His own " order," especially endowed and 
 trained for this work, to whom, as the king to those 
 singers of the old temple, He appoints a certain portion 
 "due every day." Yet in that new temple, which is 
 rising silently day by day, all the stones are musical when 
 struck by the right hand ; every voice has its own especial 
 psalm for its own especial joy ; and the richest songs have 
 sometimes been sung by those who sang but one, and 
 whose names are lost to us for ever. 
 
 From time to time, throughout the Old Testament, we 
 catch fresh notes of the song. There is the mystical Song 
 of Songs, reaching, in its full meaning, to the great mar- 
 riage-day, when the Voice which can be heard in the 
 grave shall say, " Arise, my love, my fair one, and come 
 away; the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, and 
 the time of the singing is come." There is the chant of 
 Deborah the prophetess, and the hymn of Hannah, borne 
 along through her own individual joy to the great undying 
 source of joy, the Child born to redeem. There is the 
 song of Jehoshaphat and his army, the chant of victory 
 sung in faith before the battle, and itself doing batth •. in 
 that the Lord fought for those who trusted Him, and 
 they had nothing to do but to divide the spoil and return 
 to Jerusalem, with psalteries and harps and trumpets, into 
 
8 HYMNS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 the house of the Lord. There is the song of Hezekiah, 
 when he recovered from his sickness, and the psalm of 
 Jonah, from the depths of «the sea. There was a song by 
 the waters of Babylon, though not for the ear of the 
 oppressor. There was the song of liberated Israel, at the 
 dedication of the wall of the Holy City, when " the singers 
 sang loud, and they all rejoiced : for God had made them 
 rejoice with great joy: the wives also and the children 
 rejoiced : so that the joy of Jerusalem was heard afar off." 
 There were new songs in the prophets for the new joy 
 which was to descend on earth, until at last the joy came, 
 and the songs of the angels broke on the ears of the shep- 
 herds keeping watch over their flocks by night. 
 
 Even on earth the morning awakes with music. Not 
 a day is born but finds some creature ready to welcome 
 it with a song — some echo of that birth-day hymn which 
 the morning stars sang together when all the sons of 
 God shouted for joy. No wonder, then, that a burst of 
 inspired song greets that Dayspring from on high. The 
 theme, not creation, but the Son, "the Child Jesus, 
 Christ the Lord!" The singers; from heaven a multi- 
 tude of the heavenly host, and on earth the blessed 
 virgin-mother, and two old men. Humble voices, heard 
 by few then, yet pouring out their full hearts to God, 
 and so forming a new channel of praise, never since left 
 dry. 
 
 The first recorded Jewish hymn was chanted by the 
 great lawgiver, with a nation for his chorus. The first 
 Christian hymn was sung by Mary the mother of Jesus, 
 with no audience, as far as we know, but one other faith- 
 ful woman. The contrast, doubtless, has its meaning. 
 
TIIREE FIRST I I HYMNS. 9 
 
 The heart of Mary, like a sweet flower with its cup 
 tamed op to the morning sky, in it- lowliness drank in 
 Hit light and dew of heaven, and sent them back in 
 fragrance; full of God, ami therefor* lull of joy. And 
 yet her hymn is no angelic song, no thanksgiving of an 
 unfallen spirit who looks on adoring at the great mi] 
 of Divine love. That human tone, which gives its deepest 
 musk- to the new song of heaven, is not wantin 
 Mary's. She can say, " My Saviour," that she also may 
 sing hereafter, " Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us 
 by Thy blood!" The Magnificat of the blessed Virgin is 
 but another strain in the great Song of Redemption. 
 
 Then Zacharias, when the seal is taken oft' his lips, 
 and his mouth is opened to praise God, at one 
 heart is borne away beyond his own special blessing, on 
 the great tide of joy, which is the common element of 
 all the redeemed, and the natal hymn of the Baptist soars 
 away into a Christmas carol. For a moment his song 
 alights on the peculiar gladness which had visited his 
 house, the child of his old age, who was to be the pro- 
 phet of the Highest; but then again it soars upward, until 
 it is lost in the early beams of the Dayspring from on 
 high. 
 
 One other hymn completes that first cluster; and this, 
 unlike the other two, was uttered in the temple. It 
 must have been long indeed since any fire from heaven 
 had touched the mercenary sacrifices there, or any gush of 
 fresh inspiration had pierced the icy routine of the 
 services. At length, however, the heavens, which had 
 seemed so impenetrable, opened, and before the vail was 
 rent, and they melted away for ever, service and sacrifice 
 
10 HYMNS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 shone with a new and Divine radiance from the Sun 
 which was rising behind them. 
 
 Once more the music of inspired song was heard in the 
 temple; not from the choir of David's priestly singers, 
 but from the lips of an old man, as he held the infant 
 Saviour in his arms. Yet, in the few simple words with 
 which Simeon welcomed the joy he had waited for so 
 long, he rose to a height at which even Pentecostal gifts 
 did not always sustain apostles. The old man's vision 
 reached to the universal promise, and he saw in Jesus, not 
 only the Glory of Israel, but the Light to lighten the 
 Gentiles. With such a vision well might he depart in 
 peace ! 
 
 Thus the first triad of Christian hymns, the three 
 matin-songs of Christianity, were completed. Ere another 
 was added to the sacred list, the great victory which had 
 been thus sung had to be won, not with songs, but with 
 strong crying, and tears, and unutterable anguish. To 
 human ears the completion of the great victory was an- 
 nounced, not with shouts of triumph and songs of angelic 
 hosts, but by one dying human voice, speaking in dark- 
 ness from the cross. 
 
 " When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he 
 said, It is finished : and he bowed his head, and gave up 
 the ghost." 
 
 Yet are those dying words the fountain-head of every 
 hymn of joy and triumph which men have ever sung 
 since Eden was closed, or ever will sing, throughout 
 eternity. 
 
 The Bible records the words of but one other hymn; 
 for a hymn it was, whether said or sung. 
 
FIUST HYMN AFTER PENTECOST. 1 1 
 
 I Jod had buret the bands of the grave, and 
 had ascended to be where He is now, at the right hand 
 of God, and, as He promised, the Comforter had come, 
 and, knit together in living unity l»y Him, the Church 
 had appeared a living temple of God in the world. Tims 
 the only hymn 'recorded in the Acts is not, like those 
 in the Gospels, sung by solitary voices. It is a choral 
 burst of praise; and, like so many since, it is struck frtiB 
 the heart of the Church by the hand of persecution. The 
 first persecution of the Church gave birth to her first 
 hymn. Peter and John came back from their night in 
 prison to the band of believers; and they lifted up their 
 voices to God with one accord, and the place where they 
 met was shaken by an earthquake. 
 
 After that we have no record of any hymn, (unless the 
 thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians, rising sublime and 
 detached, as it does, from the general level of the epistle, 
 may be called one,) until the songs of heaven fall on our 
 hearts from the heights of the Apocalyptic vision. Then 
 from within the gates of pearl, from the city which is 
 also a paradise, from beside the fountain of life, and from 
 before the throne of God and the Lamb, we catch the 
 tones of the new song, and find it the ever new Song of 
 Redemption, the psalm of the new creation ; the song 
 which Moses sang, and David, Hannah, and Mary the 
 mother of Jesus, and the early Church, when she first 
 tasted the bitter cup of her Lord ; the song which every 
 sinner that repenteth sings, and the angels echo, which 
 we are singing, and still learning now, and which will be 
 new in its inexhaustible depths of joy for ever and ever. 
 
12 THE " TERSAXCTUS," THE " GLORIA IX EXCELSIS." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE " TERSAXCTUS," THE " GLORIA IX EXCELSIS," 
 AXD THE " TE DEUM." 
 
 Three Hymns and three Creeds have come down to us 
 from early times, and have been incorporated into our 
 Liturgy, besides the hymn preserved in our Ordination 
 Services. They have descended to us pure and distinct, 
 through the gradually thickening corruptions of many 
 centuries! Fragments of the language of Heaven, often 
 preserved by those who knew not the interpretation, 
 they must, through those dark and confused ages, have 
 formed channels of communication with God for many 
 a perplexed but believing heart. 
 
 In the preservation of the Holy Scriptures themselves, 
 through similar perils, we recognise, with adoration, the 
 controlling hand of God; and we may surely also attri- 
 bute it to His merciful providence, that through those 
 centuries, when so many would receive no spiritual food, 
 except through the external Church, and the Church so 
 often gave the stone, if not the serpent, to her children, 
 
 rjristead of bread, anything so pure and life-giving should 
 have been enshrined in her daily Offices, as the Creeds of 
 the Apostles, of Nice, and of Athanasius, the two Hymns 
 now in our Communion Service, and the " Te Deum." 
 
i: DEUM." 13 
 
 The preservation of the Creeds is, however, scarcely 
 so remarkable as that of the Hymns. That the Creeds 
 should . tw&t have become what they arc, i- indeed more 
 wonderful than that once formed they should have re* 
 niained intact. 
 
 That out of the fierce word-battles of the Orient ;il 
 C lunches, when eternal truths were made the subject of 
 courtly intrigue and popular tumult, and the populace 
 of Greek and Syrian cities were ready to shed each other s 
 blood on account of the relations of the Persons in the 
 Trinity to one another, meanwhile concerning themselves 
 very httle about their own relations to God; when an 
 abstract Trinity in Unity was in danger of being wor- 
 shipped instead of the living and redeeming God; that 
 from such passionate and godless controversies those sim- 
 ple and living Creeds should have been evolved, n indr.d 
 wonderful And since the formation of the Creeds was 
 no miraculous inspiration, the fact may surely teach us a 
 comforting lesson in ecclesiastical history. Living words 
 cannot proceed from lifeless souls; and the ages which 
 compacted the Creeds must surely, beneath that tumult 
 of noisy controversies and strife "who should be greatest," 
 whose echoes, as they reach us, we are apt to call church 
 history, have borne to heaven many a cry of true prayer, 
 and many a soft chorus of thanksgiving. As St Augus- 
 tine said,* "We look on the surface and see only the 
 scum ; beneath we should find the oil." — j 
 
 Thus the Creeds are witnesses not only for the truth 
 they utter, but for the Church which uttered them. 
 Once formed, however, the great difficulty as regarded 
 * Meander's Church History. 
 
14 THE " TERSANCTUS," THE " GLORIA IN EXCELSIS," 
 
 tliem was over. They were sealed with all the authority 
 of Church and State; they were systematic documents 
 with sharply denned edges; they were fenced in with 
 anathemas, and the anathemas were fortified with civil 
 penalties. The subtle and tumultuous, yet servile populace, 
 who entered into doctrinal controversies with the eager- 
 ness with which their forefathers had contended for poli- 
 tical rights, might have made the abstraction of a particle 
 the signal for a riot. And when that acute and excitable 
 race had been crushed under the strong fanaticism of Mo- 
 hammedan armies, or silenced beneath the dead pressure 
 of Mohammedan fatalism and tyranny; when church his- 
 tory passed over to the West and to another range of con- 
 troversies, the two earlier Creeds had already the sacred 
 halo of antiquity on them ; the crystals were set, and no 
 foreign element could blend with them to alter their form. 
 
 With the Hymns it might have been otherwise. The 
 strictest research can, it seems, only ascertain their exist- 
 ence in the earliest records, but cannot trace their be- 
 ginning. That before such a date the " Te Deum" can- 
 not be found, and that in the earliest known Liturgies 
 the "Thrice Holy" can be found, appears nearly all that 
 can be discovered. Whether they sprang first to light 
 in a burst of choral song, like that inspired hymn in the 
 Acts; or were bestowed on the Church through the hea- 
 venly meditations of one solitary believer ; or gradually, 
 like a river, by its tributary streams, rose to what they 
 are, we can perhaps never know. 
 
 We all know the tradition, that the " Te Deum" gushed 
 forth in sudden inspiration from the lips of Ambrose, as 
 he baptized Augustine; or (as it exists in another form) 
 
i: DEUM." 14 
 
 that St Ambrose and St Augustine, touched at the same 
 moment by the same sacred fire, sang it together in re- 
 sponses. But beautiful as this legend is, and of early ori- 
 I hose who have searched into the subject most deeply 
 seem to think it must be classed among other U-antihil 
 typical stories of the heroic ages of Christendom. Than 
 is, however, another theory of the origin of the " Te Deum" 
 (to which Daniel seems to lean), more beautiful and ap- 
 propriate than even this old legend. It is believed by 
 mauy to have sprung from an earlier Oriental morning 
 hymn, perhaps to have grown out of fragments of many 
 such hymns. Gradually, therefore, if this be true, it 
 may have flowed on from age to age, gathering fresh 
 tides of truth and melody, till, as you trace back the sa- 
 end stream to its source, your exploring feet are checked 
 among the snowy mountains of the distant past, :ui<I, 
 ing through the mists and silence, you seem to hear 
 far off the music with which it first wells into light, 
 where the few persecuted Christians of Pliny's days meet 
 before dawn to sing their hymn of praise to Christ as 
 God. — 
 
 How these three Hymns grew to what they are, remains 
 to us as great a mystery as why their growth stopped 
 where it did. They lay for centuries entombed in a dead 
 language, among all kinds of errors and idolatries ; no 
 anathema guarded them either at their entrance or their 
 close. Beside them sprang up a rank growth of prayers 
 to dead men, and lifeless wood, and symbolic bread; 
 passionate appeals to all saints, and fervent pleadings for 
 all souls in purgatory. The voices which chanted them, 
 chanted more frequently Aves and Litanies to Mary, 
 
16 THE " TERSANCTUS," THE "GLORIA TN EXCELSIS," 
 
 Queen of Heaven ; yet there they stand for us, as pure 
 as if none had ever sung, or had the keeping of them, 
 save angels and the spirits of the just made perfect. 
 Like the sacred body of Him they sang, they lay in the 
 tomb, but did not see corruption. And now that, with 
 much conflict, and labour, and suffering, the mass of evil 
 around them has been cleared off, and the great stone of 
 the dead language has been rolled away, they come forth 
 to us fresh as with the eternal youth of the angels who 
 guarded the Holy Sepulchre, with a countenance like 
 lightning, and raiment white as snow, saying to us, " Fear 
 not ye. It is not possible that Christ or His truth should 
 be holden by any bands of death : the Lord is risen 
 indeed." 
 
 In each of these three Hymns how exulting and tri- 
 umphant the strain is ! They are hymns of praise of the 
 noblest kind: they are occupied, not with our feelings 
 about the object of adoration, but with the object Him- 
 self. Not a tone of sorrow mingles with them: the joy 
 of Redemption altogether overwhelms the lamentation of 
 the Fall ; mortality is swallowed up of life. 
 
 And yet the two first, at least, were sung before Chris- 
 tianity had achieved any visible triumph; when it was 
 still a religio illicita, existing by precarious sufferance; 
 when every public act of Christian worship was liable to 
 end in martyrdom, and every song of praise might be 
 finished among the multitude above, who rejoice that they 
 have been counted worthy to suffer shame for the name 
 of Jesus. Those who joined in it knew not how soon 
 their " Holy, holy, holy," might be resumed, after a brief 
 agony, among " angels and archangels, and all the com- 
 
17 
 
 pany of heaven," or win -tin ff tlair "Glory to God in 
 highest" might not be chanted next among the angelic baud 
 ■who first struck its chords of joy. Was it not that 
 possibility which gave the peculiar thrill to the words? 
 
 a H is very meet, right, and. our boundeq d 
 we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto 
 Thee, Holy Father, Almighty, Everlasting God. There- 
 fore with angels and archangels, and all the company of 
 heaven, we laud and magnify Thy glorious Name ; ever- 
 more praising Thee, and saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord 
 God of hosts, heaven and earth are full of Thy glory : 
 glory be to Thee, Lord Most High.** 
 
 The duty of joy and praise, the sanctity of all places 
 and the fitness of all times for worship ! Do we not feel 
 in this glorious burst of thanksgiving the irrepre> 
 joy of redeemed creatures set free from all bondage; 
 sinful yet forgiven, and fighting with God against sin; 
 cliildren, yet children of God, coming before their 
 Father with the song He loves to hear; little indeed, and 
 as nothing among the countless hosts of heavenly wor- 
 shippers, yet still actually amongst them, and no strangers 
 there, because, in God's household, whilst the greatest 
 are as dust before His majesty, the least shine as the sun 
 in His love? 
 
 It is as if the veil were for a moment withdrawn, and 
 the whole family in earth and heaven were united in one 
 song. Myriads who sang it once on earth have passed 
 through the veil one by one, and have taken their places 
 in the other choir; and soon the veil must be visibly 
 rent, and the two choirs made one. 
 
 The second Hymn after the Communion, like the first, 
 B 
 
18 THE " TERSANCTUS," THE "GLORIA IN EXCELSIS," 
 
 soars away at once from self to God, and rests not on our 
 joy in God, but on God who is our joy, giving thanks to 
 the Father for His great glory, and to the Son for His re- 
 deeming love. Like the " Te Deum," it is chiefly addressed 
 to Christ. But its accents are to accompany us back into 
 the outer world; and the hymn, which began, as it were, 
 among the angels, ends with a Miserere such as befits 
 those yet in the body of death, well as it befitted those 
 many martyrs of early times who, we are told, sang this 
 hymn on their way to martyrdom. 
 
 Happy for us if the music of those words sings on in 
 our hearts through the temptations and toils of the fol- 
 lowing days, and so from hour to hour we make our work 
 keep time to that heavenly melody! 
 
 " Glory to God on high, and on earth peace, good will 
 towards men. We praise Thee, we bless Thee, we glorify 
 Thee, we give thanks to Thee for Thy great glory, Lord 
 God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty. O 
 Lord, the only-begotten Son Jesu Christ; Lord God, 
 Lamb of God, Son of the Father, that takest away the 
 sins of the world, have mercy on us. Thou that takest 
 away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Thou 
 that takest away the sins of the world, receive our prayer. 
 Thou that sittest at the right hand of God the Father, 
 have mercy on us. 
 
 "For Thou only art holy; Thou only art the Lord; 
 Thou only, O Christ, with the Holy Ghost, art most high 
 in the glory of God the Father." 
 
 Happy for us when the Gloria and the Miserere are 
 ever thus intertwined ! 
 
 The " Te Deum" completes and crowns this second triad 
 
"TE DE! 19 
 
 of Christian hymns. It is at once a hymn, a cree<l. 
 a prayer; or rather, it is a creed taking wing and mm 
 heavenward; it is faith Mind with ■ Hidden joy m ^m* 
 
 t s her treasures, and laying them at the feet of Jesus 
 in a song; it is the incense of prayer, rising so near the 
 
 iiw round the throne as to catch its light and be- 
 come radiant as well as fragrant, a cloud of incense illu- 
 mined into a cloud of glory. It is a shrine round which 
 the Church has hung her joys for centuries, and in which 
 each of us has garnered up one sacred memory after 
 another. Year by year its meaning has been unfolded to 
 us. One verse has been a fountain of comfort opened to 
 us in some desert place ; others have been unveiled to us 
 in the light of a fresh joy or the darkness of a fresh 
 sorrow; and as our horizon widens, it will expand ever 
 above and beyond, because, and only because, it is full of 
 Him whose fulness filleth all in all. 
 
 Its meaning becomes clearer if we regard it as pecu- 
 liarly a hymn to Christ, which many believe it originally 
 to liave been : in which case, the doxology to Father, Son, 
 and Holy Spirit* may have been inserted, in a modi tied 
 form, from its usual place at the end of the hymn. 
 Thus, the first versicle, from a mere general acknow- 
 ledgment that God is the Lord, becomes a confession 
 that Jesus, who, to deliver us, did not abhor the 
 Virgin's womb, who overcame for us the sharpness of 
 death, and redeemed us with His precious blood, is He 
 whose majesty fills earth and heaven ; adored by angels, 
 
 * Pairem immeDsx raajestatis; 
 Yenerandum tuum verum, et unicum Filium; 
 Sanctum qaoque Paraclitum Spiritum, 
 
20 THE " TERSANCTUS," THE " GLORIA IN EXCELSIS," 
 
 apostles, prophets, martyrs; King of Glory, and ever- 
 lasting Son of the Father; God over all, blessed for 
 ever. 
 
 The original Latin may be given, with the suggestion 
 whether the expression n Martyrum candidatus exercitus," 
 may not refer to the white robes made white in the blood 
 of the Lamb ; and whether the words translated, " When 
 Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death," do not in 
 the original indicate more clearly the truth that our Lord 
 did not merely overcome the pangs of death as martyrs 
 have done, but plucked out its sting; in other words, 
 that He overcame death for its. 
 
 Te Deum laudamus: Te Dominum confitemur. 
 Te aeternum Patrem* omnis terra veneratur. 
 Tibi omnes angeli, tibi cceli et universe potestates, 
 Tibi cherubim et seraphim, incessabili voce proclamant : 
 Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth ; 
 Pleni sunt cceli et terra majestate gloriae tuse. 
 Te gloriosus apostolorum chorus ; 
 Te prophetarum laudabilis numerus ; 
 Te martyrum candidatus laudat exercitus. 
 Te per orbem terrarum, sancta confitetur ecclesia, 
 Patrem immensae majestatis; 
 Venerandum tuum verum, et unicum Filium •, 
 Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum. 
 Tu Kex gloria?, Christe: 
 Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius. 
 
 Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem, non horruisti' 
 virginis uterum; 
 
 * May not this refer to the prophecy in Isaiah, "This is the name 
 whereby he shall be called, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince 
 of Peace"? 
 
II 
 
 Tu, devicto mortis aculeo, aperuisti credentibus regna 
 
 coclorum. 
 Tu ad dexteram Dei sodes in gloria Patris. 
 Judex crederis esse venturus : 
 Te, ergo quoosunius, famulis tuis subveni, quos pretioso 
 
 sanguiue redemisti. 
 iEterna fac cum Sanctis tuis in gloria numerari. 
 Salvum fac populum tuum, Domine : et benedic hsereditati 
 
 tu©. 
 
 Et rege eos, et extolle illos usque in oeteraum. 
 
 Per singulos dies benedicimus te. 
 
 Et laudamus nomen tuum in ss&culum: et in soBCulum 
 
 saeculi. 
 Dignare, Domine, die isto sine peccato nos custodire. 
 Miserere nostri Domine : miserere nostri. 
 Fiat misericordia tua, Domine, super nos, quemadmodum 
 
 speravinius in te. 
 In te Domine speravi : non confundar in aeternum. 
 
22 THE ANONYMOUS GEEEK HYMNS. 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 It may be well to dwell on the anonymous early hymns 
 before we enter on the compositions of any known author, 
 because where the author is not ascertained (and the 
 date thus fixed), whilst the style is simple and primitive, 
 the earliest manuscript discovered may be but a copy of 
 earlier writings, and a record of some far earlier unwritten 
 song. For instance, the " Gloria in Excelsis," sometimes 
 called a Morning Hymn, or the "Hymnus Angelicus," 
 preserved in our Communion Service, is possibly or pro- 
 bably more ancient than anything Clement of Alexandria, 
 the earliest known hymn-writer, ever wrote. Its sublime 
 simplicity would lead one to conclude it must be so, were 
 Christianity merely an historical religion. As it is, the 
 question of comparative chronology seems of little import- 
 ance. The original authentic documents of our faith are 
 in our hands, and besides these we can acknowledge no 
 standard of doctrine; and the Fountain of our life is 
 equally near to every age. Whether, therefore, the 
 greater purity of many of these anonymous hymns arises 
 from their greater antiquity, or from a fresh approach to 
 that ever-present Fountain in an age when many had 
 recourse to polluted waters and broken cisterns, is a pro- 
 blem we may contentedly leave unsolved. In either case, 
 
"llYMNIS ANGELI" 23 
 
 they bear witness to a living communion of some human 
 hearts with God, and are as such most precious, whether 
 we regard them as carrying up tho links ot' our faith to 
 the first century, or as bringing down the faith and wor- 
 .-hip of the apostolic age to the. fourth century. 
 
 The first of these anonymous hymns which may be given 
 here are those called in Daniel's "Thesaurus," Morning 
 and Evening Hymn; the Morning Hymn being the 
 well-known "Glory to God in (he highest" 
 
 MORNING HYMN. 
 
 Glory to God in the highest, 
 
 And on earth peace, 
 
 Good will towards men. 
 
 We praise Thee, 
 
 We bless Thee, 
 
 We glorify Thee, 
 
 We give thanks to Thee, 
 
 For Thy great glory, 
 
 O Lord, heavenly King, 
 
 God the Father Almighty. 
 
 Lord, the only begotten Son, 
 
 Jesu Christ, 
 
 And the Holy Ghost* 
 
 OLordC 
 
 Lamb of God, 
 
 Son of the Father, 
 
 Thou who takest away the sins of the world, 
 
 Receive our prayer. 
 
 Thou who sittest at the right hand of the Father, 
 
 Have mercy on us. 
 
 * It will be observed that tbere are a few alight variations between 
 this version of the hymn, which is taken from the Greek, in Daniel's 
 " Thesaurus," and that in the Prayer-book. 
 
24 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 For Thou only art holy, 
 
 Thou only art the Lord, 
 
 O Jesu Christ, 
 
 To the glory of God the Father. Amen. 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 Joyful light of holy glory, 
 
 Of the immortal Heavenly Father, . 
 
 Holy, blessed 
 
 Jesu Christ, 
 
 We, coming at the setting of the sun, 
 
 Beholding the evening light, 
 
 Praise Father and Son 
 
 And Holy Spirit, God. 
 
 Thee it is meet 
 
 At all hours to praise 
 
 With sacred voices, Son of God, 
 
 Thou who givest life ; 
 
 Therefore the world glorifies Thee. 
 
 In this last hymn there is no fancy, no ecstasy of emo- 
 tion. The poetry consists in the faith, in the vision of 
 the invisible. The praise is not so much the utterance of 
 man's feelings as of God's name. The images are so 
 simple as to be scarcely images at all, but only the clearest 
 expression of truth. And yet what sweeter or sublimer 
 evening thoughts could any desire to rest the heart upon ! 
 
 The sun is setting; the brief twilight of Egypt, Syria, 
 or Greece, making scarcely any interval between day and 
 night, is beginning. The glow of the golden southern 
 day is gone ; in another minute the glorious southern sun 
 has sunk suddenly in his majesty and strength, as he rose; 
 and night, with its silence and cold dews, is coming. The 
 little band of persecuted Christians, whom no danger 
 
■vnrara btmk 25 
 
 OOokl deprive of the joy of meeting to claim their Lord's 
 promise to the " two or three," havegnthm .1 l»y the river 
 Milr, in the upper chamber, or in the inner court. Or, in 
 later times, amidst the great spaces of the Oriental ca- 
 tlu ilral at Antioch, Constantinople, or Alexandria, among 
 the heavy shadows of buildings meant rather to exclude 
 than to admit the light, the great Christian assembly has 
 met. The visible sun has gone, but the Church is a 
 dweller in perpetual light. Christians are children of the 
 day, and they have met to gaze in faith on Him whose 
 presence makes day and heaven, Christ the light of holy 
 glory, the giver of life. 
 
 The next Evening Hymn is probably of a much later 
 date, and of a different character. It is the aspiration of 
 a single heart, one oppressed with sins and conscious of 
 danger; but it has its own interest, as in its simple accents 
 we listen to the secret supplications of one who fought the 
 good fight more than a thousand years ago. 
 
 ING HYMN. 
 
 The day is passing on, 
 
 I thank Thee, Lord. 
 
 I beseech Thee this evening and this night 
 
 Keep me without sin, 
 
 Saviour, and save me ! 
 
 The day is passing away, 
 
 I glorify Thee, O Master. 
 
 I beseech Thee this evening and this night 
 
 Keep me without offence, 
 
 Saviour, and save me! 
 
 The day has pass'd away, 
 I praise Thee, Holy One. 
 
23 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 I beseech Thee this evening and this night 
 Keep me free from snares, 
 Saviour, and save me ! 
 
 Enlighten mine eyes, 
 Christ, O God, 
 
 That I sleep not unto death ; 
 Let not mine enemy say, 
 I have prevaii'd against him ! 
 
 Be the guard of my soul, 
 O God, for I pass on 
 Through the midst of snares, 
 Deliver me from them and save, 
 Thou Gracious One, who lovest men ! 
 
 Before passing on from the hymns which refer to special 
 seasons of the day, one more may be given, which seems 
 intended for waking hours at night. It seems a response 
 to the Psalmist's "At midnight will I arise, and sing 
 praises unto Thee," and solemnly must the words have 
 echoed through, the silence. 
 
 AN ECHO. 
 
 Being raised up from sleep 
 
 We fall before Thee, gracious One, 
 
 And we cry aloud the angels' hymn 
 
 To Thee, mighty One. 
 
 Holy, holy, art Thou, O God, 
 
 For Thy mercy's sake have mercy on us. 
 
 From the couch and from sleep 
 Thou raisest me, Lord ! 
 Enlighten my mind and my heart, 
 And open Thou my lips, 
 
MIPNN.iir HYMN. -7 
 
 That I may praise Thee, holy Trinity : 
 ly, holy, holy, art Thou. 
 
 The Judge will come with a great multitude, 
 And the deeds of each one shall be laid bare ; 
 But with fear we will cry in the midst of the night, 
 Holy, holy, holy, art Thou. 
 
 By far the greater number of the anonymous hymns 
 are inspired, not by special circumstances in the writer's 
 life, but by the contemplation of Christ — His birth, bap- 
 death, resurrection, and ascension. Of these the 
 larger proportion are suggested by His nativity, involving 
 Ike incarnation, the union of the Godhead and humanity 
 in His person, and the glad tidings of great joy. 
 
 If any difference is apparent between the theology of 
 these early hymns and that of St Paul and St Peter, it 
 seems to be this : the incarnation and nativity of our 
 Lord seem in the hymns to fix the attention, rather than 
 His death and resurrection. The language would perhaps 
 be rather, " I was determined to know nothing among 
 you, save Jesus Christ, and Him incarnate," than, "I 
 was determined to know nothing among you, save Jesus 
 Christ, and Him crucified." And in some measure the 
 results of this difference may be traced. There is great 
 rejoicing in Christ as the Restorer and Saviour, great 
 adoration of Him as God manifest in the flesh ; but per- 
 haps less apprehension of Him as the Redeemer of sinners, 
 the Lamb of God, who has washed us from our sins in 
 His own blood; and, therefore, less apprehension of the 
 completeness of the redemption, and the blessed security 
 of the believer, living or dead. From this tendency to 
 
28 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 make the manger, rather than the cross, the centre of the 
 faith, probably arose those first misapprehensions of the 
 position of the Virgin Mary, which afterwards spread so 
 sadly. The few specimens translated here may illustrate 
 this, whilst also shewing the depth of love and trust felt 
 for that infinite Saviour, of whose fulness all receive. 
 
 ON THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST. 
 
 Make ready, Bethlehem ! 
 
 Eden is open'd to all ; 
 
 Prepare, Ephratah ! 
 
 For the Tree of Life 
 
 Has come forth in the cave 
 
 From the Virgin. Paradise 
 
 Thus did her womb become, 
 
 In which was the Divine Tree, 
 
 Of which we eat and live. 
 
 Not like Adam shall we die, 
 
 For Christ is born 
 
 To raise again the fallen image, 
 
 And transform it by partaking it. 
 
 AGAIN ON THE NATIVITY. 
 
 Thy birth, Christ our God, 
 
 Has caused to rise on the world the light of knowledge y 
 
 For by it, the worshippers of the stars 
 
 Were taught by a star to worship Thee, 
 
 The Sun of righteousness, and to know Thee, 
 
 The Dayspring from on high. Lord, glory to Thee ! 
 
 The first-fruits of the Gentiles, Heaven 
 Gather'd in to thee, a babe lying in the manger. 
 Calling the wise men by a star, 
 Astonish'd to behold, 
 
■HI ON THE NATIVITY. 
 
 Not sceptre and throne, but the uttermost pover 
 For what poorer than a cave ? 
 And what meaner than swaddling clothes ? 
 Through which shone the riches of Thy Deity. 
 Lord, glory to Thee ! 
 
 NATAL HYMN. 
 
 The Virgin to-day 
 
 Bears the Infinite, 
 
 And the earth draws near 
 
 In the cave to the Inaccessible. 
 
 Angels with shepherds 
 
 Render homage ; 
 
 Magi with stars 
 
 Shew the way ; 
 
 Since for our sakes 
 
 The God from eternity has become the new-born babe. 
 
 DOXOLOGY. 
 
 Thy pure image we worship, 
 
 O good Lord, beseeching Thee, 
 
 Pardon our failures. 
 
 Christ, our God ! 
 
 Thou wast content in Thy good will 
 
 To come in the flesh, 
 
 That Thou mightest redeem those Thou hadst made 
 
 From the bondage of the enemy. 
 
 Wherefore, thankfully we cry unto Thee, 
 
 Who fillest all with joy ! 
 
 Our Saviour, who didst appear 
 
 To save the world ! 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 The Mystery hidden from the ages, 
 And unknown to angels, 
 
30 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 Through a virgin made manifest to those on the earth, 
 
 God uniting Himself to flesh 
 
 "Without confounding the substance, 
 
 And voluntarily enduring the cross for us, 
 
 By which, restoring the first Adam, 
 
 He saved our souls from death. 
 
 ON THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST. 
 
 Christ, compassionate to all, 
 
 Taking away the multitude of transgressions, 
 
 By immeasurable mercy ; 
 
 Thou comest as man 
 
 To be baptized in the waters of Jordan, 
 
 Clothing me with the robe of glory, 
 
 Before miserably stripped of all 
 
 ON THE SAME. 
 
 When Thou wast baptized in Jordan, Christ, 
 
 The worship of the Trinity was revealed, 
 
 For the voice of the Father bears witness to Thee, 
 
 Calling Thee the beloved Son ; 
 
 And the Spirit, in the form of a dove, 
 
 Confirmed the sure word. 
 
 Christ, God made manifest, 
 
 And illuminating the world, glory to Thee ! 
 
 ON THE EPIPHANY. 
 
 "When in Thy Epiphany, Thou didst enlighten all things, 
 
 Then the salt sea of unbelief fled, 
 
 And down-flowing Jordan turned its course, 
 
 Lifting us upwards to heaven. 
 
 But in the height of Thy Divine commandments 
 
 Keep us, Christ, God, and save us. 
 
the cm n UKJIUUHDV. 31 
 
 It is characteristic of the same t<> make the 
 
 Incarnation and Epiphany the central facts of Chris- 
 tianity, rather than the Cross and the Resurrection, that 
 the Epiphany should have been the great festival of the 
 Oriental Churches.* 
 
 The five following hymns are, however, on the Cruci- 
 fixion and the Resurrection. They are enough to shew 
 what the faith of those who sang them was; and the 
 triumphal tone of the grand chant of victory rings 
 through them alL 
 
 TO CHRIST ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Thou who, on the sixth day and hour, 
 
 Didst nail to the cross the sin 
 
 Which Adam dared in paradise ; 
 
 Rend also the handwriting of our transgressions, 
 
 Christ, our God, and save us! 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 Thou workest salvation in the midst of the earth, 
 Christ, God, stretching on the cross Thy spotless hands ; 
 Gathering in all the nations as they cry, 
 O Lord, glory to Thee! 
 
 OX THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 To-day, salvation to the world I 
 
 We gather together to Him who has risen from the tomb ; 
 
 The Prince of life, Christ our God; 
 
 Taking away death, 
 
 He gave the victory to us, 
 
 And the great mercy. 
 
 Christ is risen from the dead ; 
 In death trampling on death ; 
 
 * Xeander s Lebcn des heiligen Johannes Chrysostomos. 
 
32 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYJINS. 
 
 And on those in the graves 
 Bestowing life. 
 
 Beholding the resurrection of Christ, 
 We worship the holy Lord, 
 Jesus, the only sinless One ; . 
 Thy cross, Christ, we adore, 
 And Thy holy resurrection 
 We praise and glorify. 
 
 By Thy body in the grave, 
 
 By Thy soul in Hades, 
 
 As God in paradise with the thief, 
 
 And on the throne, art Thou by Thine essence, Christ, 
 
 With the Father and the Spirit, 
 
 Filling all things — the Incomprehensible. 
 
 Life-giving, more pleasant than paradise, 
 
 More glorious than any bridal-chamber of kings, 
 
 Appears Thy sepulchre, Christ, 
 
 The fountain of our resurrection. 
 
 Taking our form on Thee, 
 
 And enduring the cross bodily, 
 
 Save me by Thy resurrection, 
 
 Christ, God, who lovest men. 
 
 From the highest, full of pity, Thou earnest down, 
 Wast laid for three days in the grave, 
 That Thou mightst free us from suffering: 
 Our life, and our resurrection, 
 Lord, glory to Thee ! 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 Thou art received up into glory, Christ, our God, 
 Having made glad Thy disciples 
 
T 1 ! K ANON TMOUS GREEK II YMNS. 33 
 
 ho promise of the Holy Si 
 Strengthening them by Thy blessing : • 
 For Thou art the Son of God, 
 The Redeemer of the world. 
 
 When Thou hadst fulfiHM the dispensation for us, 
 
 And united things on earth to heaven, 
 
 Thou wast received up into glory, Christ, our God. 
 
 Yet, even there not parted from us, but abiding 
 
 Unsever'd from those who love Thee. 
 
 u I am with you, and none against you." 
 
 ON PENTECOST. 
 
 When, descending, He confused the tongues, 
 
 The Highest scatter'd the nations ; 
 
 When He distributed the tongues of fire, 
 
 He call'd all to unity ; 
 
 Thus, with one voice, we glorify the All-holy Spirit. 
 
 The following is more subjective than any of the others, 
 and reminds us more of the Moravian hymns, or some of 
 those of the middle ages : — 
 
 SWEET THOUGHTS, WITH REPENTANCE TO JESUS. 
 
 Most sweet Jesus, long-suffering Jesus, 
 
 Heal the wounds of my soul, 
 
 Jesus, and sweeten my heart ; 
 
 I pray Thee, most merciful Jesus, my Saviour, 
 
 That I, saved, may magnify Thee. 
 
 ] Hear me, my Saviour, lover of man, \ 
 Thy servant crying in affliction, 
 And deliver me, Jesus, from judgment 
 
34 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 And from punishment, only One, long-suffering, 
 Most sweet Jesus, only One, most merciful. 
 
 Eeceive Thy servant, my Saviour, 
 
 Falling before Thee with tears, my Saviour ; 
 
 And save, Jesus, me repenting, 
 
 And from hell, Master, redeem me, Jesus ; 
 
 Heal, my Saviour, my soul 
 
 Of its wounds, Jesus, I pray Thee ; 
 
 And with Thine hand rescue me, my Saviour 
 
 Compassionate, from the soul-murderer Satan ; and save me. 
 
 I have sinned, my most sweet Saviour; 
 
 Merciful, my Saviour, save me, 
 
 Fleeing to Thy defence, long-suffering Jesus, 
 
 And make me meet for Thy kingdom. 
 
 Thou, Jesus, art the light of my mind, 
 
 Thou art the salvation of my lost soul ; — 
 
 Thou the Saviour, Jesus, from punishment 
 
 And from hell deliver me, weeping like a helpless child. 
 
 Save, O Jesus, my Christ, save me, miserable. 
 
 Surely in these words we can feel the tears with which 
 they must have been broken, when first uttered by lips 
 so long since silent in the grave. And surely the sobbing 
 prayer was heard,- and all through these ages the answer 
 has been pouring forth in praise in heaven. 
 
 Throughout these anonymous hymns, there is but one 
 which aims less high than the mercy-seat ; but one is ad- 
 dressed to the creature rather than the Creator, and that 
 is a hymn for the dead, which, in the sixth verse, falls 
 short of the All-merciful and Omnipotent, and seeks rest 
 for the departed from the " blameless mother of the un- 
 setting Sun." And from this hymn the tone of exulting 
 
TUT. ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 35 
 
 mI hope is absent It is a tender lamenta- 
 tion over tin* dead — " a little while before with us and now 
 
 1 in the tomb, dwelling in darkness, noiseless, -with- 
 out feeling, motionless, dead, separated from all kindred 
 and beloved." It is but a strain of the long lamentation 
 of earth over the life which " withers like grass, fades like 
 a flower, passes away like a dream from the earth." The 
 darkness is not, indeed, unbroken; there is a feeble glim- 
 fchroogh the door of the sepulchre — enough of fai n t 
 
 to enable the heart to bear the terrible thought of 
 death, and to soften the despair into tears. " Let us, O let 
 
 !1 down before Christ with tears. Let us supplicate 
 the Lord to give to this departed one everlasting rest." It 
 is felt that there is a heart in heaven to shed those bitter 
 tears upon; and that is much, much indeed beyond the 
 blank ether and sapphire sky of heathenism ; yet how dark 
 tibia praying for the dead, and desolate compared with that 
 more ancient faith which lias come forth again to us — 
 the departure to be at once with a present Saviour, the 
 " paradise to-day," the " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit/' 
 the assurance, " those that sleep in Jesus will God bring 
 with Him." 
 
 It is the object of these pages to dig up the living 
 roots of faith, however deep they have been buried, and 
 not to heap up memorials of the barren stone and sand 
 which hid them and hindered their growth. Yet, more 
 than half the lessons of history are taught by contrasts; 
 more than half its lights are signals of danger; and when 
 the evil has come to the full, and through, so many cen- 
 
 - and so many lands the whole devotion of the soul has 
 been turned aside from God to Mary, and the love which 
 
36 THE ANONYMOUS GREEK HYMNS. 
 
 laid down life for us has been thought cold compared 
 with hers, we cannot but ask, how did it begin 1 ? And 
 may not the answer be this: The cross was not fully 
 understood, and therefore redemption was not fully appre- 
 ciated ; the thoughts were directed rather to the Son of 
 God coming to save, than to the Son of God accomplish- 
 ing salvation? The words, "It is finished," are gradually 
 lost, and therefore the song of thanksgiving gradually 
 falls into the cry for deliverance, and the cry becomes 
 more and more bitter and less confiding, until at last the 
 unrest is carried into the grave, the " sleep in Jesus" is 
 broken into tossings on a sea of fire, and He whose love 
 passeth knowledge, who died to save us, is represented as 
 the king of thunders, whose lightnings can only be warded 
 off by the intercessions of His compassionate mother. 
 
 Yet these early hymns have surely this characteristic : 
 they are " sung unto the Lord." They are full of faith 
 _ in a personal, listening Saviour. The name of Jesus is | 
 in them no mere summary of a system of doctrines, but 
 the name of a living, gracious, mighty, and beloved 
 Friend. Some of them are so true and so tender, so sub- 
 lime in their simplicity, so full of the repose of faith, and 
 so free from the flutter of fancy, so soaring above self to 
 God in lowly, happy adoration, that one would delight to 
 think they may have been among the psalms, and hymns, 
 and spiritual songs to which St Paul listened, or the 
 " beloved disciple," when in his old age he would be led 
 to meet the Church, silently to join their worship, and 
 say at parting, " Little children, love one another." 
 
 But we know not; the name of the "master" has 
 perished, and the strain floats down to us, unlimited by 
 
THK w »\ 1 MOU8 GREEK HYMNS. 37 
 
 any personal associations, a part of the one great song. 
 As in a beautiful cathedral, of which the architect's name 
 is lost, we cannot say, "This is that man's work;" but 
 we may say instead, " This is God's house, let us worship 
 Him." Surely, could the singers stoop from their places 
 among the blessed and listen, they would ask no more. 
 
 We may close this chapter with an anonymous Oriental 
 doxology, with which we might well be content at last to 
 close our psalm of life. 
 
 God is my hope, 
 
 Christ is my refuge, 
 
 The Holy Spirit is my vesture ; 
 
 Holy Trinity, glory to Thee. 
 
 ) 
 
38 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, AND 
 GREGORY OF NAZIANZUM. 
 
 We come now to another level, more within the ordinary- 
 horizon of sacred song — to hymns whose range has been 
 less extended, and of whose writers we can form a more 
 definite picture. The singers, as well as the songs, become 
 perceptible; although, in some instances, the songs seem 
 more familiar to us, less estranged by the foreign garb of 
 distant lands and ages than the singers. The truths of 
 the hymns come home to our hearts, whilst the mode of 
 life and thought of the writers often seems difficult to 
 understand. 
 
 Of all the cities on that great inland sea which once 
 washed the shores of every civilised state in the world, 
 perhaps none serve better as a tide-mark to shew how far 
 the centre of the social world has glided westward than 
 Alexandria. Rome is still imperial, and it is the nature 
 rather than the locality of her empire which has changed ; 
 Constantinople is still the centre of its own system, feeble 
 and ruinous as both centre and system are; Jerusalem, as 
 of old, is the holy city of faith; but Alexandria, still 
 indeed busy and flourishing, is busy and flourishing only 
 as the channel of traffic from western regions, which 
 were backwoods and copper-diggings when her palaces 
 
AND OREGOli'. M. 39 
 
 first rose. White palaces and quays still gleam across the 
 blue Mediterranean, breaking the sandy glow of the flat 
 Egyptian shores; the streets are thronged with eager 
 y crowds, and luxurious villas, with tli.ir gardens, 
 fringe the suburbs; but Una motion is galvanic, communi- 
 cated by impulse from without, not flowing from life 
 within; English and French merchants are her princes, 
 the city is but a great inn on the overland route, and it' 
 the great Oriental traffic could find other channels, Alex- 
 andria might soon sink into a silent, ruinous, dreamy 
 Turkish village, like Tyre or Sidon. Sixteen hu> 
 years ago it was indeed different, and to understand, in any 
 measure, any life which was lived there then, we must 
 clothe the skeleton, we must transform the dry dead 
 names in the ancient atlas into pictures. y 
 
 About the close of the second century, when Clement 
 was called to be the head of the catechetical school at 
 Alexandria, he was called to a centre of thought and life 
 from which the slightest touch vibrated in a thousand 
 directions. His own intellectual history illustrates strongly 
 the contrast between the past and the present. He seems 
 to have been a merchantman seeking goodly pearls, 
 until he found, at length, the pearl of great price. II 
 wandered restlessly from school to school, seeking, it 
 seems, not to become learned, but to find truth ; not con- 
 tent, as an intellectual curiosity-hunter, to hoard op 
 treasures of information, he wanted some living truth to 
 live upon. His search was long. One of his teachers 
 came from Ionia, the old birthplace of Greek science and 
 y, fires not yet quite burnt into ashes. Clement seems, 
 however, chiefly to have drawn from Oriental sources. 
 
40 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 His two next teachers were a Ccelo- Syrian and an 
 Assyrian — names that recall associations too ancient 
 and shadowy to picture, histories whose skeleton is 
 scarcely left to us, but only the dry embalmed mummy, 
 which passes into dust as you open the tomb, before you 
 can tell what you have seen. Did thoughtful and edu- 
 cated men, indeed, then live on the Ccelo-Syrian plain, and 
 converse beneath the grand porticoes of the temples at 
 Baalbec? "Were animated philosophical debates held 
 under the shadow of those magnificent columns which now 
 stand so solitary and obsolete, scarcely able to tell us their 
 own history? And at night, when the glorious Syrian 
 moon silvered the snows of Lebanon, and threw the 
 gigantic shadows of those temples across the great spaces 
 of their courts, did men watch there, whom all this beauty 
 led to question what lay beneath and beyond? Many 
 centuries have passed, indeed, since men have looked for 
 intellectual light, as Clement did, from Asia Minor, 
 Assyria, and the Lebanon plains. The heavy black pall of 
 Mohammedanism has fallen over them all, yet surely not 
 before the life had fled. 
 
 Clement had one other teacher, a Jew from Palestine. 
 The great Light which shone for a time in bodily pre- 
 sence on the shores of the Sea of Galilee had been re- 
 jected, and had withdrawn itself; the sentence of death 
 had fallen on the cities of Galilee, but it was not yet 
 executed to the full. Tiberias was the seat of a school 
 of Jewish rabbis, and on the shores of the Sea of 
 Galilee Clement could still listen to the voices of Scribes 
 and Pharisees, himself yet ignorant of the Voice which 
 had silenced their lifeless commentaries, of the beneficent 
 
AMi OUUOfcl Of SAZ1AV 41 
 
 fafcteps which had 0nO6 hod HUM shores and those 
 waves, bringing health to the sick and suffering there. 
 But it was at Alexandria that Clement first learned the 
 I >i\ ine word which could solve the riddles of philosophers 
 and rabbis. Here, at length, he found what he had uncon- 
 
 i>ly sought, redemption and spiritual strength in a 
 living Redeemer, and here his wanderings ended. Pan- 
 
 s the catechetical Christian teacher from whom he 
 learned Christianity, after a time went as a missionary 
 into India, and Clement took his place. He had found 
 a truth it was worth while to spend life in com- 
 municating. For such a mission no more central spot 
 existed than Alexandria A mart, as now, of eastern 
 and western traffic, merchants resorted thither from all 
 quarters; to the south stretched the great Egyptian 
 granary of Rome; along the coasts of Syria, and Asia 
 Minor, and Northern Africa were rich cultivated lands, 
 and a busy manufacturing population ; the seas all around 
 were specked with countless sails of vessels, trading, in 
 short voyages, from island to island and city to city. 
 With their merchandise these vessels, like the Alex- 
 andrian corn-ship wrecked at Melita, carried the heralds 
 of the new doctrine. The commercial cities where the 
 Jews had planted their synagogues, became everywhere 
 the sites of infant churches. At Alexandria was the great 
 mint and exchange for Oriental and European thought 
 Mystical and undefined Oriental visions, acute and compre- 
 hensive Greek theories, narrow and imperious rabbinical 
 dogmas met here, and were exchanged or re-coined. In 
 the midst of all these Clement taught, not so much in the 
 pulpit of a lecture-room, or a church, as in the philoso- 
 
42 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDEIA. EPHRAEM SYBUS, 
 
 pher's cloak, pacing up and down the shady porticoes. To 
 him these varied phases of thought were no mere theories 
 known as to a critic from outside. He had learned them 
 by trying them. Many of these streams had flowed in 
 succession through his own mind, and he knew what 
 they could give and what they could not give. They 
 had formed part, not merely of the catalogue of his ac- 
 quirements, but of the experience of his heart. 
 
 In these respects he had some of the qualifications of 
 St Paul. But the flood of Christian truth had not 
 rushed with such force through his mind as entirely to 
 sweep away all remains of falsehood, leaving, as with St 
 Paul, only the sympathy of memory with those in error. 
 His eyes do not seem always to have been clear to see 
 the grandeur of simple truth above the high-sounding 
 theories of his time. He did not always perceive how 
 much deeper the simplest faith which brings into com- 
 munion with God is, than the most profound reasoning 
 about the things of God. The fashion of this world, and, 
 therefore, the doom of this world, seems to have been on 
 much of his teaching, and so far it has " passed away." 
 Yet many words are quoted from his writings, immortal 
 because really living. 
 
 Although we know absolutely nothing of Clement, ex- 
 cept of his intellectual or spiritual history; although his 
 home (if he had one) is altogether hidden from us, and he 
 is to us rather a voice than a man ; yet we must own 
 some familiar communion of the heart from which flowed 
 such words as these : — 
 
 " Prayer, if I may speak so boldly, is intercourse with 
 God. Even if we do but lisp, even though we silently 
 
a 43 
 
 - ( k>d without opening our lips, y.t we cry to Him 
 in the inmost recesses of the heart, for God always listens 
 to the sincere direct ion of the heart to Him." 
 
 And IgMB, W6 fed bow closely knowlol^e ami faith 
 must have been interwoven in him, when he says of a 
 true ( . " He will pray in every place, but not / 
 
 openly to be seen of men. Even when he is walking for 1 
 recreation, in his converse with others, in silence, in read- / 
 ing, in all rational pursuits, he finds opportunity for prayer. 
 And although he is only thinking on God in the little 
 chamber of his soul, and calling on his Father with silent 
 aspiration, God is near him, and with him, for he is still 
 speaking to Him."' 
 
 Tq, Clement " not the place was the church, but the 
 congregation of the elect;" and he recommended the 
 Christian husband and wife to consecrate each day by 
 commencing it with reading the Bible and prayer. 
 
 Such was the earliest Christian hymn writer whose 
 name has come down to us. The one hymn which is at- 
 tributed to him is indeed rather a catalogue of scriptural 
 figures, than an outburst of glowing adoration ; but it 
 gives a deep meaning to every word of it, to link it with 
 Clement's own description of the perils amidst which it 
 was written. " Daily," he wrote, " martyrs are burnt, 
 beheaded, and crucified before our eyes." 
 
 He himself was at length obliged to flee for his life from 
 Alexandria, and of his subsequent history scarcely any- 
 thing is known. The catalogue of images in the hymn, 
 of which the following lines are an attempt at a transla- 
 tion, must surely have been to Clement a catalogue of trea- 
 sures which he found in Christ, and in which he rejoiced. 
 
44 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 HYMN OF THE SAVIOUR CHRIST. 
 
 Mouth of babes who cannot speak, 
 
 Wing of nestlings who cannot fly, 
 
 Sure Guide of babes, 
 
 Shepherd of royal sheep, 
 
 Gather Thine own 
 
 Artless children 
 
 To praise in holiness, 
 
 To sing in guilelessness 
 
 With blameless lips, 
 
 Thee, Christ, Guide of children. 
 
 Christ, King of saints, 
 All-governing Word, 
 Of the Highest Father, 
 Chief of wisdom, 
 Support of toil, 
 Ever-rejoicing, 
 Of mortal race, 
 Saviour Jesus ! 
 Shepherd, Husbandman, 
 Helm, Rein. 
 
 Heavenly wing 
 
 Of Thy all-white flock, 
 
 Fisher of men, 
 
 Of the saved, 
 
 From the sea of evil, 
 
 The helpless fish 
 
 From the hostile wave, 
 
 By sweet life enticing. 
 
 Lead, Shepherd 
 Of reasoning sheep, 
 
AND I | \/l \XZUM. 45 
 
 Holy One, lead, 
 
 King of speechless childi 
 
 The footstep of Christ 
 
 Are the heavenly way. 
 
 Ever-flowing Word, 
 
 Infinite Age, 
 
 Perpetual Light, 
 
 Fountain of mercy, 
 
 Worker of virtue, 
 
 Holy sustenance 
 
 Of those who praise God, Christ Jesus. 
 
 The heavenly milk 
 
 Of the sweet breasts 
 
 Of the bride of graces, 
 
 Pressed out of Thy wisdom. 
 
 These babes 
 
 "With tender lips 
 
 Nourished ; 
 
 By the dew of the Spirit 
 
 Replenished ; 
 
 Their artless praises, 
 
 Their true hymns, 
 
 Christ our King, 
 
 Sacred rewards (products) 
 
 Of the doctrine of life, 
 
 We hymn together, 
 
 We hymn in simplicity, 
 
 The Mighty Child. 
 
 The chorus of peace, 
 
 The kindred of Christ, 
 
 The race of the temperate, 
 
 We will praise together the God of peace. 
 
 Through all the images here so quaintly interwoven, 
 like a stained window, of which the eye loses the design 
 
46 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHKAEM SYRUS, 
 
 in the complication of colours, we may surely trace, as in 
 quaint old letters on a scroll winding through all the 
 mosaic of tints, "Christ all in all." And could the earliest 
 Christian hymn bear a nobler inscription 1 Yet, at the 
 same time, we must remember that whilst the truth of 
 the early Christian writings bears precious testimony to 
 the Christian life of the times, their defects and mistakes 
 bear, by contrast, no less valuable testimony to the 
 inspiration of those earlier writings in which neither de- 
 fect nor mistake is found. 
 
 More than a century passes between the days of Clement 
 and the next hymn writer whose name is known, and of 
 him we know little but the name. 
 
 Ephraem Syrus was a monk and a deacon, and lived 
 in that " land beyond the flood," from which Abraham 
 was called to be a pilgrim and a stranger in the land of 
 promise. Monasticism was becoming more and more the 
 one accepted type of a religious life, and Ephraem is 
 spoken of as a man of learning and a monk. Yet his 
 hymns breathe much of the fragrance of a home. They 
 seem remarkable for childlike simplicity and much tender- 
 ness of natural feeling. There is a simple joyousness 
 about his thanksgivings. He seems to have loved to 
 dwell on such themes as the infancy of the Saviour, the 
 Hosannas of the children, the happiness of those who 
 died in childhood. One can fancy little children cluster- 
 ing round his knee, and learning from his lips to lisp such 
 words as these : — 
 
 THE CHILDREN IN PARADISE. 
 
 To Thee, God, be praises 
 From lips of babes and sucklings, 
 
GREGORY « 
 
 Like spotless lambs the} 
 
 Mil leafy trees they pas* 
 
 Thus saith the Bles>< 
 
 And Gabriel, prince of angels, 
 
 That happy flock doth lead. 
 
 The messengers of Heaven, 
 With sous of light united, 
 In purest regions dwell 
 
 No curse or woe they see. 
 
 And at the Resurrection, 
 With joy arise their bodies; 
 Their spirits knew no bondage, 
 Their bodies now are fi 
 
 Brief here below their sojourn, 
 Their dwelling is in Eden, 
 And one bright day their parents 
 Hope yet with them to be. 
 
 Christian children of those distant times might thus, 
 as they thought of their little brothers and sisters in the 
 grave, sing, " Wc are seven." 
 
 They could also learn to echo the chant of the children 
 who cried Hosanna before Him who had taken the little 
 ones in His arms and blessed them, perhaps in the very 
 language of the children of Jerusalem, as they sang these 
 words of Ephraem : — 
 
 ON PALM SUNDAY. 
 
 Salem is shouting with her children, 
 Praise Him who comes, and is to come, 
 
48 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 Hosanna, here and in the highest, 
 Be to the Father's mighty Son. 
 
 Praise Him who once Himself did humble 
 In love to save our human race, 
 
 Praise Him who all the world doth gladden 
 With God His Father's boundless grace. 
 
 O Lord, who would not gaze and wonder 
 To see how low has stooped Thy love ! 
 
 The cherubim on fiery chariots 
 Thy glory humbly bear above. 
 
 And here an ass's foal doth bear Thee, 
 Thee in Thy might and holiness, 
 
 Because Thou earnest in Thy pity 
 Our fallen race to save and bless. 
 
 This day of joy to all creation, 
 
 My happy soul shall have her psalm, 
 
 And bear her branches of thanksgiving, 
 As those bore branches once of palm. 
 
 Before the foal the children strewed them, 
 Owning Thy hidden majesty; 
 
 Hosanna to the Son of David, 
 
 We with the children cry to Thee. 
 
 ON THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY OF JESUS INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 He calls us to a day of gladness, 
 Who came to us, the King's own Son ; 
 
 Go forth with boughs of palm to meet Him, 
 And Him with loud Hosannas own. 
 
 The angels are with us rejoicing, 
 Angelic trumpets swell our song, 
 
UNIVEttSI* 
 
 49 
 
 All nations in one joy uniting, 
 Hosanna sounds in every tongue. 
 
 To Thee, Lord, loud praise ascend 
 From every creature in its kind ; 
 
 Thee, with an awed and quiv'ring motion, 
 Exalteth every waving wind. 
 
 The heavens in their quiet beauty 
 
 Praise Thy essential majesty ; 
 The heights rejoice from which Thou earnest, 
 
 The depths spring up to welcome Thee. 
 
 The sea exults to feel Thy footsteps, 
 
 The land Thy tread, Lord, knoweth well; 
 
 Our human nature brings thanksgivings, 
 Because Thy Godhead there doth dwell 
 
 To-day the sun rejoicing shineth, 
 With happy radiance tenfold bright, 
 
 In homage to that Sun of glory 
 Which brings to all the nations light. 
 
 The moon shall shed her fairest lustre, 
 O'er all the heavens her softest glow, 
 
 Thee on her radiant heights adoring, 
 Who for our sakes hast stoop'd so low. 
 
 And all the starry hosts of heaven, 
 
 In festive robes of light array'd, 
 Shall bring their festal hymns as offerings 
 
 To Him who all so fair hath made. 
 
 To-day the forests are rejoicing, 
 Each tree its own sweet anthem sings, 
 D 
 
50 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 Because we wave their leafy branches 
 As banners for the King of kings. 
 
 To-day let all the brute creation, 
 
 Rejoicing, be no longer dumb, 
 For lowly on the foal He sitteth, 
 
 The Heavenly One to us hath come. 
 
 Let every village, every city, 
 
 In happy tumult sing His name, 
 Since even infant lips are shouting, 
 
 " Blessed is He, the King who came !" 
 
 Throughout those of his hymns translated into German 
 in Daniel's " Thesaurus," there is a Christian feeling far 
 deeper than the Manichseanism, which looked on visible 
 nature and natural emotion as at war with God. In a 
 hymn on the Nativity, he imagines all creation thronging 
 round the infant Saviour; the shepherds bringing Him 
 offerings from their flocks — "a lamb to the Paschal 
 Lamb, to the First-born a first-born;" the lamb bleating 
 its praises to Him whose coming freed lambs and oxen 
 from sacrifice, since He Himself, the " Lamb of God," has 
 brought us the true perpetual Easter festival. The shep- 
 herds praise Him, " the chief Shepherd, who shall 
 gather all in one flock, the Child older than Noah, and 
 younger :" — 
 
 Thy father David once 
 To save a lamb a lion slew ; but Thou, 
 David's Son, destroyest that fierce wolf, 
 Invisible, who slew of old Adam, 
 A spotless lamb, pastured in paradise. 
 
 Old men, and gray-haired women, crowd out of the 
 city of David to greet Him; young men, maidens and 
 
AND I 51 
 
 mothers, gather around Him who came to consecrate 
 every aspect of human life. 
 
 It is a touching allegory, rising far indeed above the 
 narrow horizon of nionasticism. 
 
 The following lines on the Epiphany must be given in 
 full It may be called 
 
 THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 
 
 A star shines forth in heaven suddenly, 
 
 A wondrous orb, less than the sun — yet greater ; — 
 
 Less in its outward light, but greater in 
 
 Its inward glory, pointing to a mystery. 
 
 That morning-star sent forth its beams afar 
 
 Into the land of those who had no light, 
 
 Led them as blind men, by a way they knew not, 
 
 Until they came and saw the Light of men, 
 
 Offer'd their gifts, received eternal life, 
 
 Worshipp'd — and went their way. 
 
 Thus had the Son two heralds, one on high, 
 
 And one below. Above— the star rejoiced ; 
 
 Below— the Baptist bore Him record : 
 
 Two heralds thus, one heavenly, one of earth ; 
 
 That witnessing the nature of the Son, 
 
 The majesty of God, and this His human nature. 
 
 O mighty wonder ! thus were they the heralds 
 
 Both of His Godhead, and His manhood. 
 
 Who held Him only for a son of earth, 
 
 To such the star proclaim'd His heavenly glory ; 
 
 Who held Him only for a heavenly spirit, 
 
 To such the Baptist spoke of Him as man. 
 
 And in the holy temple Simeon held the babe 
 
 Fast in his aged arms, and sang to Him — 
 
 To me, in Thy mercy, 
 
 An old man, Thou art come ; 
 
52 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 Thou layest my body 
 
 In peace in the tomb. 
 Thou soon wilt awake me, 
 
 And bid me arise ; 
 Wilt lead me transfigured 
 
 To paradise. _ 
 
 Then Anna took the babe upon her arms, 
 And press'd her mouth upon His infant lips ; 
 Then came the Holy Spirit on her lips, 
 As erst upon Isaiah's, when the coal 
 Had touch'd his silent lips, and open'd them : 
 With glowing heart she sang — 
 
 Son of the King ! 
 
 Though Thy birth-place was mean, 
 All-hearing, yet silent, 
 
 All-seeing, unseen, 
 Unknown, yet all-knowing, 
 
 God, and yet Son of man ! 
 Praise to Thy name. 
 
 The hymn next translated seems very true and beautiful 
 in its contrast of faith and natural feeling. It used to be 
 sung at the funerals of children; and is called 
 
 LAMENT OP A FATHER ON THE DEATH OF HIS LITTLE SON. 
 
 Child, by God's, sweet mercy given 
 
 To thy mother and to me, 
 Entering this world of sorrows 
 
 By His grace, so fair to see ; 
 Fair as some sweet flower in summer, 
 
 Till death's hand on thee was laid, 
 Scorch'd the beauty from my flower, 
 
 Made the tender petals fade. 
 
AND GUEGOl; «, 53 
 
 Yet I dare not woep nor murmur, 
 
 I know the King of kings 
 Leads thee to His marriage-chamber, 
 To the glorious bridal brings. 
 
 Nature fain would have me weeping, 
 
 Love asserts her mournful right ; 
 But I answer, they have brought thee 
 
 To the happy world of light. 
 And I fear that my lamentings, 
 
 As I speak thy cherish'd name, 
 Desecrate the Royal dwelling ; — 
 
 Fear to meet deservdd blame, 
 If I press with tears of anguish 
 
 Into the abode of joy ; 
 Therefore will I, meekly bowing, 
 
 Offer thee to God, my boy. 
 
 Yet thy voice, thy childish singing, 
 
 Soundeth ever in my ears ; 
 And I listen, and remember, 
 
 Till mine eyes will gather tears, 
 Thinking of thy pretty prattlings, 
 
 And thy childish words of love ; 
 But when I begin to murmur, 
 
 Then my spirit looks above, 
 Listens to the songs of spirits — 
 
 Listens, longing, wondering, 
 To the ceaseless glad Hosannas 
 „ Angels at thv bridal sing. 
 
 There is also a song of Ephraem's about Paradise, the 
 feet of whose mountains the highest waves of the Deluge 
 could but touch and kiss, and reverently turn aside; 
 where the sons of light tread the sea like Peter, and sail 
 
54 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 the ether on their chariots of cloud. And there is a 
 hymn on the Resurrection, full of beautiful images, or 
 rather visions; the gates of paradise opening of themselves 
 to the just; the guardian angel striking his harp as he goes 
 forth to meet them, when " the Bridegroom comes with 
 songs of joy from the East, and the kingdom of death is 
 made desolate, as the children of Adam rise from the dust, 
 and soar to meet their Lord." There is mention also of a 
 fire to be passed through ere paradise is reached (a fire 
 not purgatorial, but testing), the unjust being devoured by 
 it, and the just gliding through untouched. His own anti- 
 cipations of life after death, seem to have been of a pure 
 paradise, and a joyful dwelling with Christ. He has in 
 one poem a fine image of Satan and Death listening 
 astounded to the song of the angels at the birth of Jesus : 
 Satan flies into the wilderness, and Death into the abyss. 
 
 Then, because they fled from Him, 
 Jesus track'd them to their lairs ; 
 Went into the wilderness, 
 Vanquishing the devil there. 
 To the depths of death descending, 
 There o'ercame the might of death. 
 Thus were both the foes led captive 
 Who had robb'd our race of hope. 
 Therefore blooms sweet hope on earth ; 
 In the highest, joy, as thence 
 Came the angels to mankind 
 With the tidings of great joy. 
 
 Such are some specimens of the sacred singing of 
 Ephraem, monk of Mesopotamia. His learning might 
 seem foolishness to children among us, and his theology 
 
AND GREGORY OP NAZIANZUM. . r > 
 
 may fall far short of the fulness and simplicity of the 
 apostles* teaching; but his heart seems to have been 
 steeped in the Gospel histories; and, however dim m 
 have been his explanation of the way of salvation, in 
 those Gospels he surely found the Saviour, whom not 
 having seen he loved, and in whom he rejoiced with joy 
 unspeakable and full of glory, receiving the end of his 
 faith, even the salvation of his soul. 
 
 One other golden saying comes from the heart of the 
 old singer to ours; it is in one of his exhortations in the 
 Church services, and might make a motto for many an 
 hour of united or secret prayer : "In the very moment 
 when thou prayest, a treasure is laid up for thee in 
 heaven." No Christian prayer falls back from the closed 
 gates of heaven; each enters there like a messenger-dove; 
 some bring back immediate visible answers; but all enrich 
 our store of blessings there, and all return to the heart 
 with the fragrance of peace on them from the holy place 
 where they have' been. And if Ephraem the Syrian 
 writes this joyful truth deeper on our hearts, it surely 
 must be because God wrote it on his own. 
 
 The life of Gregory of Nazianzum is less hidden from 
 us than that of Ephraem Syrus. He appears to us not as 
 a mere solitary, but as a son, a brother, and a friend. 
 The name of his mother, Nonna, is among the happy list 
 of those who have been invested with woman's sweetest 
 dignity, the training of a son for God. Nonna, the 
 mother of Gregory, is among the blessed band which 
 includes Anthusa, the early widowed mother of Chry- 
 sostom, and Monica, the mother of Augustine, patient in 
 hope through her sons many wanderings. On Nonna 
 
56 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 another great honour also was bestowed. The consistency 
 of her piety, and the influence of her gentle, loving, 
 Christian character, led her husband from a half-pagan 
 sect to the truth ; after which he became bishop of Nazi- 
 anzum in Cappadocia. Gregory, like Samuel, was the 
 child of many prayers. He himself compares his mother 
 to Hannah. Soon after his birth he was taken to the 
 altar, and there solemnly dedicated to God, a volume of 
 the Gospels being laid on his infant hands, in token of 
 the service to which he was destined. All through his 
 childhood and youth, the light of his mother's piety con- 
 tinued to shine on him. We hear little of the words she 
 said, but those around her felt that her faith was a con- 
 stant well-spring of joy. Her delight in meditating on 
 the facts of our redemption — on the birth, and death, and 
 resurrection of the Lord — was so great, that on a festival- 
 day, whatever her anxieties or bodily sufferings, she was 
 never known to be sad ; and at last she died in prayer 
 before the altar. Doubtless her influence was a spell 
 which made a sacred calm around Gregory in many a 
 storm of the tumultuous days he lived in. As he grew 
 up, he pursued his studies at Alexandria, and afterwards 
 at Athens, where he formed a close friendship with Basil, 
 a student from his own province of Cappadocia. They 
 pursued the same studies, and, in looking forward to life, 
 their dreams and projects placed them always side by 
 side. The profession for which they had both been ori- 
 ginally destined was rhetoric, and Athens at that time 
 was still a stronghold of Paganism. The worship of the 
 old gods lingered around their ancient temples, and the 
 Emperor Julian was a fellow-student with Gregory and 
 
AND GREGORY OP NAZIANZU1L 57 
 
 Basil, and learned his heathenism there. But on both 
 the friends had rested the strong influence of early ivli- 
 gious training. Basil came of an ancient Christian fam i 1\ , 
 and counted among his ancestry sufferers for the faith. 
 Like Timothy, the faith whieh dwelt in him had first 
 dwelt in his mother and his grandmother, Emmelia and 
 Macrina. A pious elder sister had continued the same 
 holy influence after the death of their mother. The piety 
 of Gregory and Basil, ascetic as it became, seems never to 
 have altogether lost the softening effect of those healthy 
 home influences. There is a playfulness and life about 
 some of their letters, which breathe more of the home 
 than the monastery. Together they formed the resolu- 
 tion of embracing the strictest religious life; their only 
 hesitation was as to which kind of monastic rule they 
 should adopt — that of the solitary hermit, or of the monks 
 living in communities. Neither of these, however, was 
 immediately adopted by Gregory, who returned to his 
 father's house, acknowledging the call of filial piety to be 
 stronger than that to the solitary life; a decision rare 
 indeed in chronicles of monkish saints. 
 
 While Basil made a tour among the societies of monks 
 who peopled the deserts in Egypt and Syria, and finally 
 retired to a mountain solitude in Pontus, Gregory re- 
 mained at Nazianzum, and consented, against his natural 
 tastes, to become his fathers associate in the bishopric. 
 Letters, playfully contrasting the advantages of solitary 
 and city life, passed between the friends, from some of 
 which it would seem as if a romantic taste for natural 
 beauty mingled with asceticism in their preference for a 
 solitary life. Basil endeavoured to draw Gregory to join 
 
58 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 him, by a description of his solitude, more like that of a 
 Robinson Crusoe's island than of a stern, penitential her- 
 mitage. " There is a lofty mountain," he says, " covered 
 with thick woods, watered towards the north with cool 
 and transparent streams. A plain lies beneath, enriched 
 by the waters which are ever draining off upon it, and 
 skirted by a spontaneous profusion of trees, almost thick 
 enough to be a fence, so as even to surpass Calypso's 
 island, which Homer seems to have thought the most 
 beautiful spot on earth. Indeed, it is like an island, 
 inclosed as it is on all sides, for deep hollows cut off two 
 sides of it; the river, which has lately fallen down a pre- 
 cipice, runs along the front, and is impassable as a wall, 
 while the mountain, extending itself behind, and meeting 
 the hollows in a crescent, stops up the path at its roots. 
 Behind my abode there is another gorge, rising into a 
 ledge above, so as to command the extent of the plain 
 and the stream which bounds it ; the most rapid stream 
 I know shooting down over the rocks, and eddying in a 
 deep pool, an inexhaustible resource to the country people 
 in the countless fish which its depths contain." Then he 
 goes on to speak of the multitude of flowers and singing- 
 birds, the breezes and soft mists, the deer and wild-goats, 
 and "quietness, the sweetest produce of all."* There 
 for a time Gregory visited Basil ; and a happy, Robinson 
 Crusoe life the friends seem to have led; hewing stones 
 and felling trees for their hermitage; planting vines on 
 the hill-side; resting under the shadow of a golden plane; 
 sweetening the toil with converse full of playful allusions 
 to their college studies; sharpening their hearts with reli- 
 * Newman's Church of the Fathers. 
 
59 
 
 nnninn. :ui«l in the loving study of the E 
 "finding light with the guidance of the Spirit" With 
 longing heart Gregory afterwards looked back to those 
 • days from his busy city life, reo*Hing, above all, "the 
 psalmodies, and vigils, and departures to God in prayer^ 
 He was not, however, to be enticed by any such delights 
 from the home of his aged father and mother; and the 
 sacrifice he thus made (calling it, perhaps, a weak com- 
 pliance) was surely dearer to God than the sacrifice he 
 longed to make. 
 
 Solitude, however, throughout his life continued his 
 one passion, and made its course (as Neander says) a per- 
 petual oscillation. Driven to active life by the necessities 
 of the times, he fled to his beloved retirement whenever 
 he found it possible. In his childhood he had had a 
 dream, in which he saw two virgin forms clothed in fair 
 white raiment; their names were "Purity" and "So- 
 briety," and they stood by Christ the King; they offered, 
 if he would unite his mind to theirs, to carry him aloft 
 to heaven. This dream, he says, he never forgot ; a high 
 ideal of the beauty of holiness was before his mind, and, 
 after the fashion of his times, he sought it in the solitude 
 of the monastic life. God, however, (as far as we may 
 interpret His will by His providence,) chose otherwise for 
 him, and brought him back again and again to the tem- 
 pestuous sea of life, to the routine of daily intercourse, 
 and the monotonous pressure of ecclesiastical business. 
 We, in the distance, and with better light, may see that 
 the true discipline was in the life appointed for him, and 
 that the ascetic discipline he sought would have been, in 
 comparison, a weakening self-indulgence. May not the 
 
60 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 lesson teach many of us a happy submission, when our 
 own plans and visions are similarly crossed 1 ? 
 
 Gregory's times were remarkably unquiet : struggles of 
 the sharpest kind were rending both the Church and the 
 world. The outward attacks of Julian the Apostate were, 
 as Gregory himself says, almost a rest, compared with the 
 bitter inward strife of sects and heresies. The Nicene 
 Creed was not yet fixed, and the anatomy of the countless 
 heresies, which sprang up in continually fresh combina- 
 tions, might occupy a lifetime and yet teach nothing. 
 Besides the divisions occasioned by doctrinal differences, 
 there were perplexing schisms between the partisans of 
 various champions of the same doctrine; so that any 
 attempt to comprehend and remember them all is not 
 merely difficult as the study of a straightforward natural 
 science, but hopeless as the attempt to learn the varying 
 nomenclature of fashionable horticulture. Through all 
 these perplexities, Gregory Nazianzen, Basil the Great, 
 and Gregory of Nyssa, the three Cappadocian fathers, had 
 to wind their way; and out of them all, by means of 
 Basil's brother, Gregory of Nyssa, has been evolved for 
 us the simple doctrine of the Nicene Creed. No wonder 
 that Gregory preferred the honest conflict with the wor- 
 ship of goddesses and idols, to such subtle dissections of 
 what should have been adored, well-nigh destroying the 
 life of the true doctrine in the process of separating it 
 from the false. No wonder that good men turned with a 
 rebounding of the heart from the quarrels of Arians, Semi- 
 Arians, Apollinarians, Eustathians, and Meletians, to 
 quiet mountain solitude and healthy bodily toil, noctur- 
 nal psalmodies, and departures of the heart to God. 
 
( ; REOORY OP NAZI AKZUM. G 1 
 
 Gregory of Nazianzum's last voyage into the tampettootii 
 sea he so much dreaded, was a glorious one. At titty 
 
 years offfjge fefl was called to (.\>n>taiit bo )-!-•. SO st.-m the 
 torrent of Arianism there. The house of one of his rela- 
 tives was opened to him as a place of worship, all the 
 churches being in Arian hands. Under the Arian Em- 
 peror Valens, and in tln> midst of a populace fanatically 
 opposed to the ancient faith, he preached the absolute 
 of Christ, and sought to bring home the truth to 
 the hearts as well as the intellects of his hearers. He 
 was pelted by the mob, and persecuted by the higher 
 classes, and with difficulty obtained an acquittal from the 
 tribunal before which he was brought on the charge of 
 occasioning a riot. But he preached on, his audience 
 increased, the house in which they met was converted 
 into a church; and to that church, when the victory was 
 at length gained, was given the name of Anastasia, as the 
 place of resurrection of the truth. On the accession of 
 the orthodox Theodosius, Gregory was chosen Patriarch 
 of Constantinople ; but, difficulties arising about the ap- 
 pointment, he resigned, and once more retired from public 
 life. His father and mother, his brother and sister, were 
 all dead, and his retirement seems to have been unbroken ; 
 and eight years afterwards — nine years after the death of 
 his friend Basil — Gregory of Nazianzum died. 
 
 The friendship of Gregory and Basil was not uninter- 
 rupted. It must be useless in these days to attempt to 
 find out the causes of differences which, probably, neither 
 their contemporaries nor themselves fully understood. 
 As with Paul and Barnabas, their reconciliation is not 
 narrated to us. Probably in this life the broken links were 
 
62 . CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 never re-knit ; but Gregory preached Basil's funeral eulogy; 
 and we must believe that the division has long since been 
 healed, by one touch of that Hand which was pierced for 
 both* That, with all the other tumults, of their lives, has 
 passed away : the discord into which their happy union 
 fell has ages since been drawn up into a higher harmony. 
 The work they tried to do for God has surely not been 
 forgotten ; and the great work Christ did for them has, 
 we trust, blotted out all the rest. For, as Basil said, 
 " This is the perfect and absolute glorying in God, when 
 a man is not elated by his own righteousness, but knows 
 himself to be wanting in true righteousness, and justified 
 by faith alone, which is in Christ." 
 
 It was through the labours, and conflicts, and perplexi- 
 ties of such a life as this, that Gregory wrote his hymns. 
 From the midst of his work in the world, as well as in 
 the quiet of his beloved solitude, doubtless his heart often 
 " departed to God " on the wings of praise. He is said 
 to be rhetorical and over-laboured in his writings; but 
 the following lines are chosen, like all the rest in this 
 volume, as utterances of the Christian life, not as speci- 
 mens of poetical power, or testimonies for any peculiar 
 ecclesiastical theories : — 
 
 HYMN TO CHRIST. 
 
 Hear us now, Eternal Monarch, 
 Grant us now to hymn and praise Tbee — 
 Thee the King, and Thee the Master! 
 By whom are our hymns and praises, 
 By whom are the choirs of angels, 
 By whom flow the ceaseless ages, 
 By whom only shines the sun, 
 
r.REOORY OP X I C3 
 
 By whom walks the moon in brightness, 
 By whom smile the stars in beauty, 
 By whom all the race of mortals 
 Have received their godlike reason, 
 
 And thine other works outshone. 
 Thou the universe createdst, 
 
 Hast to each his place decreed, 
 Constituting all in wisdom ; 
 
 And Thy word, Lord, was a deed. 
 For Thy word, Son of the Highest, 
 In essential might and glory, 
 Equals that of God the Father, 
 
 Who creates and reigns o'er all; 
 Whilst the Spirit all embraceth, 
 All preserving, all providing : 
 
 Triune God, on Thee we calL 
 
 Thou, the one and only Monarch, 
 In Thy nature changeless, endless, 
 Of unutterable glory, 
 Inaccessible in wisdom, 
 Never-wearied strength of heaven, 
 Infinite, without beginning, 
 
 High in unapproached light ; 
 All with sleepless eye observing, 
 Not a depth Thy glance escapeth, 
 From the earth to the abysses, 
 
 Deepest deep or highest height : 
 
 Wheresoever my lot may be, 
 
 Grant' me thus to worship Thee. 
 Cleanse me, Lord, from my transgression, 
 Purge me from an evil conscience, 
 That Thy Godhead I may honour; 
 Holy hands in praise uplifting, 
 
 Blessing Christ on bended knee. 
 
64 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 Own me, then, at last Thy servant, 
 
 When Thou com'st in majesty. 
 Be to me a pitying Father, 
 ( Let me find Thy grace and mercy ; 
 And to Thee all praise and glory 
 
 Through the endless ages be. 
 
 After the weary toil of the day, and the strife of 
 tongues, Gregory's spirit thus fled to the secret taber- 
 nacle, into which the empty noises of earth cannot pene- 
 trate, the pavilion of the presence of God : — 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 Christ, my Lord, I come to bless Thee, 
 Now when day is veil'd in night ; 
 
 Thou who knowest no beginning, 
 Light of the Eternal Light. 
 
 Thou the darkness hast dissolved, 
 And the outward light created, 
 
 That all things in light might be ; 
 Fixing the unfixed chaos, 
 Moulding it to wondrous beauty, 
 
 Into the fair world we see. 
 
 Thou enlightenest man with reason, 
 
 Far beyond the creatures dumb, 
 That light in Thy light beholding, 
 
 Wholly light he might become. 
 
 Thou hast set the radiant heavens 
 With Thy many lamps of brightness, 
 
 Filling all the vaults above, 
 Day and night in turn subjecting 
 To a brotherhood of service 
 
 And a mutual law of love. 
 
CREGOBY Of NV/1 U 88 
 
 By the night our wearied nature 
 
 Besting from its toil and tears ; 
 To the works, Lord, that Thou lovest, 
 
 Waking us when day appears. 
 
 Again, in another hymn to Christ, his soul flees with 
 its burden of sins direct to that Refuge, where the weary 
 and heavy laden find rest. Some of its expressions of 
 deep self-despair and trembling-trust may be thus ren- 
 dered: — 
 
 Unfruitful, sinful, bearing weeds and thorns, 
 Fruits of the curse, ah ! whither shall I flee ? 
 
 Christ, most blessed, bid my fleeting days 
 Flow heavenward — Christ, sole fount of hope to me. 
 
 The enemy is near — to Thee I cling — 
 Strengthen, oh strengthen me by might Divine ; 
 
 Let not the trembling bird be from Thine altar driven — 
 Save me, it is Thy will, O Christ — save me, for I am Thine. 
 
 One other hymn of Gregory's may be given, at least in 
 part. It is a voice from those eight years which he spent 
 in retirement. When his work was done, the Church of 
 the Anastasia had arisen, and father, mother, brother, 
 and sister, all were dead. In the depths of its natural 
 fears, and the firmness of the hope to which at last it 
 rises, it tells the history of those sohtary years, and echoes 
 well the music of those ancient psalms, which soar so 
 often " out of the depths" into the light of God. 
 
 TO HIMSELF. 
 
 Where are the wing'd words ? Lost in the air. 
 Where the fresh flower of youth and glory ? Gone. 
 E 
 
66 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 The strength of well-knit limbs 1 Brought low by care. 
 
 Wealth ? Plunder'd ; none possess but God alone. 
 Where those dear parents who my life first gave, 
 And where that holy twain, brother and sister 1 In the 
 grave. 
 
 My fatherland alone to me is left, 
 And heaving factions flood my country o'er ; 
 
 Thus, with uncertain steps, of all bereft, 
 Exiled and homeless, childless, aged, poor, 
 
 No child mine age to soothe with service sweet, 
 
 I live from day to day with ever-wandering feet. 
 
 What lies before me 1 Where shall set my day ? 
 
 Where shall these weary limbs at length repose ? 
 What hospitable tomb receive my clay 1 
 
 What hands at last my failing eyes shall close ? 
 What eyes will watch me? — Eyes with pity fraught ? 
 Some friend of Christ 1 Or those who know Him not ? 
 
 Or shall no tomb, as in a casket, lock 
 This frame, when laid a weight of breathless clay ? 
 
 Cast forth unburied on the desert rock, 
 Or thrown in scorn to birds and beasts of prey; 
 
 Consumed and cast in handfuls on the air, 
 
 Left in some river-bed to perish there 1 
 
 This as Thou wilt, the Day will all unite 
 Wherever scatter'd, when Thy word is said : 
 
 .Rivers of fire, abysses without light, 
 Thy great tribunal, these alone are dread. 
 
 And Thou, Christ, my King, art fatherland to me, 
 
 Strength, wealth, eternal rest, yea, all I find in Thee ! 
 
 Thus, in the old Ionic tongue, the wail of feeble mor- 
 tality went forth once more, but with a close the old 
 
AND GREGORY OF NAZIAXZUM. 
 
 lc music never knew; for Christ had died, and risen 
 from the dead, and the other world was a region of me- 
 lancholy shades no longer, for He is there. 
 
 No wonder that when that chord of hope had once 
 been struck, no effort of an apostate emperor, no refine- 
 ment of pagan art or philosophy, could silence it; for, 
 with all its beauty, if the old music once ceased to be 
 Bacchanalian, what could it end in but a death wail ? 
 
 A few more Christian hymns reach us from the East, 
 lingering on even after the religion of Mohammed had 
 started on its fiery course, beginning in the devastation 01 
 a flood of fire, and ending in its ashes, knowing no 
 sacred music but the battle cry and the funeral wail. 
 About the sacred poems of Cosmas the Hierosolymite, 
 there is a majestic music They seem to march solemnly, 
 as if in battle array, recurring at intervals to a grand 
 refrain, as if meant to be taken up in chorus. The words 
 are such as these. In a hymn on the Nativity, the cho- 
 ral words recur continually : — 
 
 That He might be glorified. 
 Then again — 
 
 Glory to thy power, Lord, — 
 God of our fathers, blessed art Thou. 
 
 Again — 
 
 Let all creation bless the Lord, 
 
 And glorify Thy name from age to age. 
 
 In a hymn on the Epiphany the varying refrains are — 
 
 That He might be glorified. 
 
 Then at regular intervals — 
 
 For Thou art Christ, wisdom and power of God. 
 
68 CLEMENT OP ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, 
 
 And again — 
 
 Peace, passing understanding, Thou bestowest. 
 And— 
 
 Spare Thou our souls and save us, Christ our God. 
 It is difficult to give the music of these recurring strains 
 in a translation, and the hymns are long ; but the effect 
 must surely have been very impressive, and one would 
 like to know the music to which they were sung, unless 
 indeed the measure was the music. Andrew of Crete, 
 and John the Damascene, continued yet further to pro- 
 long the song of the Eastern Church, whilst the terrible 
 flood was gathering in Arabia, which was so soon to sweep 
 over Christendom, and altogether to desolate and sub- 
 merge its Eastern half. But before that sacred music was 
 silenced, its tone had long begun to ring less clear. In- 
 vocations to the Mother of God, " the all-holy," crowd 
 thicker and thicker on those later hymns; and if Moham- 
 medanism had not broken all the strings at once, there 
 seems a danger that they would have fallen of themselves 
 into more and more jarring discord. Perhaps the very 
 agony of that great desolation tuned many a heart to a 
 music it had not known before. 
 
 Some things may be deficient in these early Oriental 
 hymns; we might wish to see the cross and redeem- 
 ing death of Christ their great theme, as it was St 
 Paul's ; but until the fourth century, we must remember, 
 the Christian Church was singing her song in the midst 
 of a heathen world. Her enemies knew that she wor- 
 shipped One who had been crucified; and while she 
 boldly confessed the fact, and contentedly endured all the 
 scorn it drew on her, her natural desire was to honour, 
 
AND GREGORY OP NAZIANZUM. CO 
 
 with every venerable title, Him whom the world thus 
 rejected and despised. Jew and Gentile knew that Jesus 
 had been crucified : the Church knew that He had risen, 
 and was indeed Christ the King. It is, perhaps, there- 
 fore natural that the earliest hymns should have dwelt 
 rather on the glories visible only to faith, than on the 
 humiliation which was evident to the eye of flesh. 
 
 It is in contrasting the early Christian hymns with 
 heathen poetry, that their beauty and truth would pro- 
 bably be most manifest The eye that could bear to look 
 at death, because looking through it, the gaze into the 
 spiritual world, the hope and love and peace, and above 
 all, the adoring, trusting contemplation of that Glorious 
 Person, divine and human, who had so lately come to 
 earth, and so lately left it — it is this which gives their 
 beauty to the Oriental hymns. They are full of that 
 living Saviour, Jesus, son of Mary and Son of God ; the 
 Almighty God stooping for our sakes to become the infant 
 of days, hymned by angels, and worshipped by magi and 
 shepherds ; the Lamb of God taking away the sin of the 
 world ; the suffering Redeemer stretching His hands on 
 the cross to rescue the lost, by the cross recovering what 
 Adam had forfeited ; the mighty Victor, by death tramp- 
 ling on death, and by His resurrection opening to us 
 the gates of life — now ascended in triumph to heaven, yet 
 undivided from His own; merciful, holy, loving Man, 
 Friend, Master, King, Saviour, Redeeming Sufferer, In- 
 finite and Omnipotent Son of God. 
 
 These hymns may not be so full and elaborate in doc- 
 trine as many tha> we know, but Christ is in them ; they 
 are inspired by Him, they are sung to Him; they preach 
 
70 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, EPHRAEM SYRUS, ETC. 
 
 not themselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord ; and if, like 
 birds at the dawn, all their music reaches only this one 
 strain, " The Sun has risen," is it not enough 1 For all 
 other truths shine only in the light of this truth, and all 
 other true joys flow only from this fountain. The Sun 
 will bring the summer. No wonder that when first that 
 Sun arose, the disciples could say little to one another, 
 but " The Lord is risen indeed." 
 
ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 71 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 We have now reached a third stage in the history of 
 Christian hymns. The inspired songs, recorded by in- 
 spired men, were succeeded by uninspired hymns, most 
 precious to us as the record of the utterance of the Chris- 
 tian life of early times, though as authoritative founda- 
 tions of faith not more valuable than the hymns of Luther 
 or George Herbert. Yet the language remained the 
 same as that of the inspired books. The hosannas of 
 Ki'liracm the Syrian had the sound as well as the sense 
 of those of the children of Jerusalem, and both were sung 
 in a dialect kindred to that in which Israel first chanted 
 the song of Moses, by the Red Sea. Clement of Alexan- 
 dria, Gregory of Nazianzum, and the unknown earliest 
 singers of the Oriental Churches, thought in the very 
 words of evangelists and apostles; the phrases of the New 
 Testament were literally their household words. Sacred 
 song had not yet passed away from the two original sacred 
 languages; but now a new language was to be conse- 
 crated. The stream of psalmody was to flow from the 
 tongue of Homer, Plato, and the New Testament, into 
 that of Virgil, Cicero, and the Vulgate; the ecclesiastical 
 
72 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 language of so many centuries had to be moulded out of 
 the sonorous old Roman speech. 
 
 The Latin hymns of the fourth and fifth centuries 
 form quite a distinct school. They stand between the 
 old world and the new; between the refinements of the 
 ancient classical literature, and those who only knew 
 Latin as an ecclesiastical or foreign language; between 
 Greek and Gothic art ; between the ancient Pagan civili- 
 sation, and that new Christian civilisation which was to 
 rise at length to light after its long underground course 
 in the middle ages.' Their form links them with the old, 
 and their substance with the new dynasty. They cling 
 to the old rhythm, although in its least elaborate shape, 
 and never descend to the barbarism of rhyme. 
 
 They are, perhaps, deficient in some qualities which 
 severally shine in earlier and later Christian poetry. 
 Compared with those of the Greek Church, they read 
 rather like translations. And in a sense are they not 
 translations 1 The wonderfal flexibility of the Greek 
 language adapted itself at once to the new flood of 
 thought which had to pass into it. The delicacy of its 
 subtle shades of meaning ; the thunder and lightning of 
 those single words which flash the power of a sentence on 
 you in a moment, condensing the force of a phrase on a 
 point ; its endless reproductive faculty ; — all these had been 
 fixed for centuries in the furnace of democratic assemblies, 
 delicately chiselled by the subtlest philosophical intellects, 
 fitted for every-day purposes by the constant use of a 
 witty, lively, highly-educated people, when at length the 
 men came who were to wield the perfect weapon for God 
 and humanity. And the process of preparation was com- 
 
■MOU AND VLSI! i;\ •■ . •: 73 
 
 pleted by the Divine hand The truths of Christianity 
 flowed for the first time, in Greek, from inspired lips. 
 
 I li Latin it was quite different. The mighty new 
 thought had to be fitted into the comparatively stiff and 
 narrow mould of Roman speech, and the hands which 
 were to accomplish the work were not those of apostles 
 and evangelists. 
 
 Again, in comparing the early Latin hymns with those 
 of the middle ages, there is perhaps one disadvantage on 
 the aide of the earlier. In the days of Ambrose, the lan- 
 guage had not gathered around it the spiritual and eccle- 
 siastical associations of centuries. It had to come into 
 the church fresh from the market, the battle-field, or the 
 court of justice, with no sacred laver of inspiration to 
 baptize it from the stains and dust of secular or sinful 
 employment. 
 
 Yet there is a calm and steady glow in these early 
 Latin hymns, a straightforward plainness of speech, and 
 an unconscious force, which grow on you wonderfully as 
 you become more acquainted with them. If they have 
 not the sublime simplicity of a faith which sees visions, 
 and leaves it to fancy to scatter flowers, or the fervency 
 of an outburst of solitary devotion, — the regular beauty of 
 Greek art, or the imagination and homely pathos of 
 Teutdnic sacred ballads, — they have a Roman majesty of 
 their own, the majesty of a national anthem, the sub- 
 dued fire of the battle-song of a disciplined army. The 
 imperial dignity of the great language of law and of war 
 has passed into them ; they are the grand national anthems 
 of the Church militant, and their practical plainness, 
 their healthy objective life, are bracing as mountain air. 
 
74 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Four names are especially associated with the Latin 
 hymnology of what may be called the Ambrosian period ; 
 those of Ambrose, Augustine, Hilary, and Prudentius. 
 Of these, the two latter are very shadowy beings to us, 
 scarcely, indeed, more than names on the title-pages of 
 their works. 
 
 There were three Hilarys who flourished within seventy 
 years of each other: Hilary, a deacon at Rome, born in 
 Sardinia, a.d. 354; Hilary of Poictiers, who died about 
 a.d. 366, to whose personal and literary influence Neander 
 assigns a large space in the history of his times ; and 
 Hilary of Aries, a canonised saint of the Roman calendar, 
 who was born at the commencement of the sixth century. 
 The three Hilarys were strenuous opponents of Arian- 
 ism; all wrote against it, and there seems to be a diffi- 
 culty in distributing to each his due share of literary 
 honour. The Hilary who wrote the hymns was the 
 canonised bishop of Aries. Born early in the sixth cen- 
 tury, he appears to have lived a long life in a short time. 
 He was an author from his youth, in his prime a popular 
 preacher and bishop of the old Greek commercial colony 
 of Aries, in Provence. He wrote some theological works, 
 presided at a council, and died at the age of forty-nine, 
 with a reputation which has made it seem natural to 
 attribute to him one of the three great Creeds, and one of 
 the three great Hymns of the Church; the Athanasian 
 Creed and the "Te Deum." But, shadowy as the form is 
 to us, the voice is clear; another "voice crying in the 
 wilderness," and proclaiming the glory of the Son of God. 
 
 Prudentius is supposed to have been born in Spain 
 about the middle of the fourth century. He filled im- 
 
PRUDENTIUS. 75 
 
 it judicial and military posts under the Emperor 
 Honoi ius ; but at the age of fifty-seven, repenting of the 
 sinfulness of his previous life, and weary of its emptiness, 
 he is said to have arisen to new aims, and dedicated him- 
 self, with all his powers and possessions, as best he knew, 
 to God. He was a Christian literary man, and perhaps 
 rather an author of religious poems than simply a hymn 
 writer. One of his books has a significant title — " The 
 War of the Soul." Those verses of his given in Dan id's 
 " Thesaurus'* are extracted from longer poems. The 
 date of his death is not known. 
 
 "With Ambrose and Augustine the case is different. 
 Ambrose stands before us in himself a complete histori- 
 cal picture, a representative portrait of his times, al- 
 though revealed to us rather as an historical personage 
 than as a man and a brother in the great Christian 
 family. 
 
 Augustine's spiritual history has probably had more 
 influence on the Christian life of fifteen centuries, than 
 the history of any other human being except St Paul 
 He is one of the very few men of past times whose heart 
 we seem to know; whose writings are not preached to 
 us from the pulpit of history, but spoken in the voice of 
 a friend. 
 
 The biographies of Ambrose and Augustine might be 
 combined into a complete compendium of the ecclesiastical 
 history of their times, the one reflecting its more external 
 features, and the other its inward spiritual conflicts ; Am- 
 brose representing the relations between church and state, 
 bishops and emperors, and Augustine the relation between 
 the soul and truth. 
 
76 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSI AN HYMNS. 
 
 In one sense, all periods are periods of transition ; , no 
 social forms can be permanent; and when men imagine 
 a point attained, and a fixed state of law and society- 
 reached, even while they contemplate their work it is 
 changing into something else. The fourth century was 
 peculiarly and visibly an age of transition. The new 
 Gothic element had appeared in the world, and it had 
 yet to be proved whether the strong northern races would 
 be smoothed down and fitted into the old imperial polity, 
 or whether they would spread and prevail, until the relics 
 of the former civilisation would be glad to shelter them- 
 selves under their broad shadow. All kinds of hetero- 
 geneous materials lay unshapen beside each other in those 
 days. Whilst the clergy and even the mobs of the East 
 were disputing about the minutest distinctions of the 
 Christian creed, and the banner of the Cross had become 
 the standard of the empire, the Roman senate was still 
 holding its shadowy sessions, under the tutelage of the 
 goddess of Yictory. It was not till the latter half of the 
 century that the old Pagan rites were discontinued as a 
 part of state ceremonies, although Paganism must long 
 have ceased to be a national faith, and had, probably, as 
 little to do with the religion of the people of Home then, 
 as the Lord Mayor's Show with the civil or commercial 
 rights of England now. The ghost of the old Roman 
 senate and the ghost of the old Roman religion found 
 a fitting companionship in each other. 
 
 Temples still stood, relics of ancient art, and perhaps, 
 in great anxieties, still the refuge of some passionate 
 hearts, who would fain rend their requests from Heaven; 
 but the monks and the populace were rapidly sweeping 
 
8T AMBROSE. 77 
 
 them away. Yet, unhappily, the old idolatry had not 
 passed away. Those who sought from Heaven merely the 
 fulfilment of earthly wishes, were provided with a host of 
 essors and mediators, already scarcely less numerous 
 than the dwellers on Olympus. The sacred dust of mar- 
 tyrs was no longer suffered to rest in peace till the re- 
 surrection, but, as Vigilantius complained, and Jerome 
 angrily admitted, was carried reverently about in little 
 urns. So little did some who bore the name of Christ 
 apprehend His love, that they deemed the lifeless remains 
 of His disciples a surer safeguard than His living provi- 
 dence, perhaps even (unconsciously) a shield against His 
 purposes. 
 
 Meantime the Arian controversy raged fiercely in the 
 East and West. The Gothic soldiers, who had been in- 
 troduced into the imperial armies and palaces, whatever 
 they knew of the subject, warmly espoused the quarrel, 
 [f they could not reason, at least they could fight; and 
 thus claim their share in the Church history of the times. 
 
 Monastic rules were ever more and more displacing 
 family ties. The course of Christian life was in too many 
 instances stiffened from the river into the canal, flowing, 
 not amidst fruitful meadows, which it fertilised, but be- 
 tween rigid stone walls, which it could only wear away; 
 and too often it was ponded back into stagnant isolation. 
 From such monastic retirement came, indeed, at times, 
 fervent hymns, such as those of Gregory Nazianzen ; 
 tender, childlike poems, such as those of Epbraem Syrus; 
 and works of universal beneficence, such as Jerome's 
 Vulgate. Doubtless, also, many a shipwrecked heart 
 found a haven there, and many a child, orphaned by war, 
 
78 ST AMRROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 shelter and care. For when God gives eternal life it is 
 strong, and struggles through inconceivable obstacles to 
 fulfil its work of blessing. 
 
 In the midst of such an age as this, Ambrose of Milan 
 grew to manhood. He was of a noble Roman family, in 
 days when the patricians of Rome still traced back their 
 pedigree to times before the Caesars. His father was pre- 
 fect of Gaul, and Treves and Aries contend for the honour 
 of being his birth-place. Before the age of thirty, he him- 
 self became Consular of Liguria, and resided at the impe- 
 rial city of Milan. Ecclesiastical honours could scarcely, 
 therefore, to him have been objects of secular ambition, 
 however he may have esteemed them as weapons of spiri- 
 tual warfare. 
 
 The circumstances which led to his appointment to the 
 bishopric of Milan throw a strange light on many ques- 
 tions of Church history. The long contest for supremacy 
 between the clergy and the empire had hardly yet com- 
 menced ; and when Auxentius, the Arian bishop of Milan, 
 died, the citizens of Milan and the Emperor Yalentinian 
 the First endeavoured to throw on each other the peril- 
 ous responsibility of choosing his successor. The per- 
 plexing privilege reverted finally to the people. The city- 
 was thrown into tumult, and the cathedral was filled 
 by a noisy and excited multitude. In the midst of the 
 storm Ambrose appeared as civil governor, and com- 
 manded peace. In the temporary lull which followed 
 his entrance, a child's voice arose, shouting " Ambrose is 
 bishop !" The whole multitude, seized by a sudden sym- 
 pathetic impulse, responded " Ambrose is bishop ! Am- 
 brose is bishop !" And so, after some weeks of hesitation 
 
ST AMBROSE. 79 
 
 and resistance, Ambrose was bishop. To Ambrose the 
 episcopate was no haven of repose, but a sphere of ear- 
 nest conflict for truth and right In the two great con- 
 tests with the imperial court which signalise his life, 
 the people were heartily with him. 
 
 His first conflict was for truth ; for the preservation of 
 the Catholic Creed against the Arians. He refused to 
 yield up the Portian Basilica to the Empress Justina for 
 the use of the Arians. The churches, he said, were not 
 the bishop's, but Christ's, and the bishop, as His steward, 
 could not relinquish them without treachery, to those 
 who denied His Deity. He said, and no doubt he frit, 
 it was better for him to be deposed or put to death. He 
 would use no earthly weapons. Excommunication he 
 believed to be a spiritual weapon, and he launched it at 
 the soldiers who should dare to seize the building. Pas- 
 sive resistance he deemed it right to carry to the utmost 
 extent The mass of the people of Milan, rich and poor, 
 were strongly opposed to Arianism, and at length they 
 took possession of the disputed basilica and the range of 
 buildings connected with it, by quietly filling them. 
 The imperial troops besieged them there during many 
 days, making no attack, but not suffering any to leave the . 
 church, hoping to exhaust the patience of which crowds 
 have usually such a scanty stock. Then first, it is saidj' 
 was introduced into the Western Church the responsive 
 chanting of hymns long prevalent in the Eastern CI lurches, 
 used by Chrysostom during vigils, and by the Christians 
 of Antioch as a weapon against heresy. The hymns of 
 Ambrose resounded through the basilica, and the city 
 was his choir. 
 
80 ST AMBKOSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 No doubt the words had long been familiar to the 
 people of Milan. Ambrose says in one of his sermons, 
 "They say the people are misled by the verses of my 
 hymns. I frankly confess this also. Truly they have in 
 them a high strain, above all other influence. For can 
 any strain have more of influence than the confession of 
 the Holy Trinity, which is proclaimed- day by day by the 
 voice of the whole people 1 ? Each is eager to rival his 
 fellows in confessing, as he well knows how, in sacred 
 verses, his faith in Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Thus 
 all are made teachers who else were scarce equal to being 
 scholars." 
 
 Monica, St Augustine's mother, was among that multi- 
 tude who gathered around the bishop. The contest was 
 for no trifling point. We are apt to throw back on this 
 scene the shadow of the after struggle between the 
 Papacy and the Empire, when Hildebrand kept the 
 humbled emperor shivering in penance amongst the 
 snows at Canossa. But the conflict in the days of Am- 
 brose was for an integral part of the Creed, and his 
 weapon was patient endurance. That the Creed St 
 Ambrose thus contended for was no mere lifeless theo- 
 logical subtlety, is proved by the nature of his second 
 contest with the imperial court, when he enforced a 
 public confession and penance on the orthodox emperor 
 Theodosius the Great, for his crime in commanding a 
 revengeful and treacherous massacre of thousands of the 
 citizens of Thessalonica. Truth and right, moral and 
 religious truth, were not divorced in his mind. 
 
 These stormy scenes passed away, but the Church 
 psalmody which had sprung from the conflict retained 
 
stauoustim:. 81 
 
 its hold on the hearts of the people, and retained also 
 the masculine vigour and militant austerity which be- 
 came its birth. Thus the hymns of the Western Church 
 were cradled on the battle-field, and the sublime strains 
 of faith which are now left throughout Europe to the 
 formal chanting of priests and choristers, were once the 
 household hymns of the peonl. . 
 
 St Augustine can hardly be numbered among the 
 hymn writers; the one hymn attributed to him, and 
 frequently introduced amongst his works, is said to have 
 been written six centuries later by Cardinal Damiani. 
 He speaks of himself in his " Confessions " as having 
 u indited verses," but that was before his conversion. 
 Yet, as one of the mightiest instruments in fitting the 
 Latin language to spiritual uses, and as the great channel 
 through which the doctrines of grace flowed to the 
 middle ages, and thus, doubtless, the source of many 
 hymns, his name should scarcely be omitted among the 
 number of those by whom the sacred song was uttered. 
 Many passages of his "Confessions" have the deepest 
 melody of the heart; indeed, are not the whole of the 
 " Confessions," with their constant " departing of the 
 heart to God," one continuous hymn, one constant ascend- 
 ing of the soul from the creature to the Creator, from 
 self to the Saviour ? 
 
 The chief link, however, which binds the name of 
 Augustine to our subject, is his record of the impression 
 made by these early Latin hymns on his own heart He 
 says (Con£, b. ix., 14, 15) : — 
 
 " Nor was I sated in those days with the wondrous 
 sweetness of considering the depth of Thy counsels con- 
 
82 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 cerning the salvation of mankind. How did I weep, 
 through Thy hymns and canticles, touched to the quick 
 by the voices of Thy sweet attuned Church ! The voices 
 sank into mine ears, and the truth distilled into mine 
 heart, whence the affections of my devotions overflowed; 
 tears ran down, and happy was I therein. 
 
 " Not long had the Church of Milan begun to use this 
 kind of consolation and exhortation, the brethren zeal- 
 ously joining with harmony of voice and heart. For it 
 was a year, or not much more, that Justina, mother to 
 the Emperor Valentinian, then a child, persecuted Thy 
 servant Ambrose, in favour of her heresy to which she 
 was seduced by the Arians. The devout people kept 
 watch in the church, ready to die with their bishop, Thy 
 servant. There my mother, Thy handmaid, bearing a 
 chief part in those anxieties and watchings, lived for 
 prayer. We, yet unwarmed by the heat of Thy Spirit, 
 still were stirred up by the sight of the amazed and dife- 
 quieted city. Then it was instituted that, after the man- 
 ner of the Eastern Churches, hymns and psalms should 
 be sung, lest the people should wax faint through the 
 tediousness of sorrow; and from that day to this the 
 custom is retained, divers (yea, almost all) Thy congrega- 
 tions throughout other parts of the world following 
 herein." 
 
 Another passage (in the 9 th book) is especially valu- 
 able, as shewing the power of those Latin hymns, which 
 seem to us rather majestic than soothing, to speak com- 
 fort to Christian mourners in those days. Their healing 
 virtue must have lain in their truth. Speaking of the 
 
Monica's death. 83 
 
 death of that mother who had watched him flinwgti all 
 his wanderings with such patient love, hoping against 
 hope, he writes : — 
 
 " I closed her eyes, and there flowed withal a mighty 
 sorrow into my heart, which was overflowing into tears; 
 mine eyes, at the same time, by the violent command of 
 my mind, drank up their fountain wholly dry, and woe 
 was me in such a strife! But when she breathed bit 
 last, the boy Adeodatus (Augustine's brother) burst into 
 a loud lament; then, checked by us all, held his peace, 
 In like manner, also, a childish feeling in me, which was, 
 through my heart's youthful voice, finding its vent in 
 weeping, was checked and silenced. For we thought it 
 not fitting to solemnise that funeral with tearful lament 
 and groanings; for thereby do they, for the most part, 
 express their grief for the departed, as though unhappy 
 or altogether dead; whereas she was neither unhappy in 
 her death, nor altogether dead. Of this we were assured 
 on good grounds; the testimony of her good conversa- 
 tion, and her faith unfeigned. What, then, was it which 
 did grievously pain me within, but a fresh wound wrought 
 through the sudden wrench of that most sweet and dear 
 custom of living together? I joyed in her testimony, 
 when, in that her last sickness, mingling her endearment 
 with my acts of duty, she called me ' dutiful,' and men- 
 tioned, with great affection of love, that she never had 
 heard any harsh or reproachful sound uttered by my 
 mouth against her. But yet, O my God, who niadest us, 
 what comparison is there between that honour that I 
 paid to her, and her slavery for me ? Being, then, for- 
 saken of so great comfort in her, my soul was wounded, 
 
84 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 and that life rent asunder, as it were, which, of hers and 
 mine together, had been made but one. 
 
 " The boy Adeodatus then being stilled from weeping, 
 Euodius took up the Psalter, and began to sing (our 
 whole house answering him) the psalm — * I will sing of 
 mercy and judgment; to thee, Lord, will I sing.' But 
 hearing what we were doing, many brethren and reli- 
 gious women came together; and whilst they, whose 
 office it was, made ready for the burial, as the manner is, 
 I, in a part of the house where I might properly, to- 
 gether with those who thought not fit to leave me, dis- 
 coursed upon something fitting the time; and by this 
 balm of truth assuaged that torment, known to Thee, 
 they unknowing and listening intently, and conceiving 
 me to be without all sense of sorrow. But in Thy ears, 
 where none of them heard, I blamed the weakness of my 
 feelings, and refrained my flood of grief, which gave way 
 a little unto me, but again came, as with a tide, yet not so 
 as to burst out into tears, nor to a change of countenance; 
 still I knew what I was keeping down in my grief." 
 
 And after her burial, he continues : — 
 
 " Nor did I weep even at those prayers ; yet was I the 
 whole day heavily sad, and with troubled mind prayed 
 Thee, as I could, to heal my sorrow; yet Thou didst not; 
 impressing, I believe, on my memory by this one in- 
 stance, how strong the bond of habit is even on a soul 
 which now feeds on no deceiving word." 
 
 Then he tried to refresh himself with bathing : — 
 
 " But the bitterness of sorrow," he continues, " could 
 not thus be washed from my heart. Then I slept, and 
 woke up again, and found my grief not a little softened, 
 
ST AUGUSTINE AND THE AMBU0S1AN HYMNS. 86 
 
 lad, as I was alone in my bed, I remembered those true 
 verses of Thine A mbrose : — 
 
 ' Maker of all, the Lord 
 
 And Ruler of the height, 
 Who, robing day in light, hast pour'd 
 
 Soft slumbers o'er the night ; 
 That to our limbs the power 
 
 Of toil may be renew'd, 
 And hearts be raised that sink and cower, 
 
 And sorrows be subdued.'* 
 
 " And then, by little and little, I recovered my former 
 thoughts of Thy handmaid, her holy conversation towards 
 Thee, her holy tenderness and consideration towards us, 
 whereof I was suddenly deprived ; and I was minded to 
 weep in Thy sight for her and for myself, in her behalf 
 and on my own. And I gave way to the tears which 
 before I restrained, to overflow as much as they desired, 
 reposiug my heart upon them ; and it found rest in them, 
 for it was in Thine ears, not in those of men, who would 
 have scornfully interpreted my weeping. And now, 
 Lord, in writing, I confess it unto Thee. Read it who 
 will, and interpret it how he will; and if he finds sin 
 therein that I wept my mother for a small portion of an 
 hour (the mother who, for the time, was dead to mine 
 eyes, who had for many years wept for me, that I might 
 liw in Thine eyes), let him not deride me; but rather, if 
 he be one of large charity, let him weep himself for my sins 
 unto Thee, the Father of all the brethren of Thy Ch 
 
 * Thus translated in "Confessions of St Augustine. Oxford: John 
 Henry Parker, 1848." The whole of the original hymn has been trans- 
 lated afresh, and is given at the end of the chapter. 
 
86 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Thus did those early Latin hymns speak to the men of 
 their times. It is interesting thus to trace them home from 
 the great congregation to the mourner's solitary heart. 
 In the 1 Oth book of his " Confessions," Augustine speaks 
 of his perplexity in denning the limits of the use of Church 
 music in devotion, fearing that the senses might thus be 
 more delighted than the heart really rais'ed to God. The 
 whole passage must be quoted to explain his feelings in 
 this instance, also representing, doubtless, the perplexi- 
 ties of many in his own time, as well as in ours : — 
 
 " The delights of the ear," he writes, "had more firmly 
 entangled and subdued me; but Thou didst loosen and 
 free me. Now, in those melodies which Thy words 
 breathe soul into, when sung with a sweet and attuned 
 voice, I do a little repose, yet not so as to be held 
 thereby but that I can disengage myself when I will. 
 But with the words, which are their life, and whereby 
 they find admission into me, themselves seek in my affec- 
 tions a place of some estimation ; and I can scarcely assign 
 them one suitable. For at one time I seem to myself to 
 give them more honour than is seemly, feeling our minds 
 to be more holily and fervently raised into a flame of 
 devotion by the holy words themselves when thus sung, 
 than when not; and that the several affections of our 
 spirit, by a sweet variety, have their own proper mea- 
 sures in the voice and singing, by some hidden corre- 
 spondence wherewith they are stirred up. But this con- 
 tentment of the flesh, to which the soul must not be given 
 over to be enervated, doth oft beguile me, the sense not 
 so waiting upon reason as patiently to follow her; but 
 having been admitted merely for her sake, it strives even 
 
8T Al THE AMBR08I.W 87 
 
 n before her and lead her. Thus in these things, I, 
 unawares, sin, but niurwards am aware of it 
 
 "At other times, shunning o\ usly this very 
 
 deception, I err in too great strictness, and sometimes to 
 
 degree as to wish the whole melody of sw« <t nmsir 
 trttflb is iim.1 in I >avid's Psalter banished from my ears, 
 and tin' Church's too; and that mode seems to me safer 
 which I remember' to have been often told me of Atha- 
 nasius, Bishop of Alexandria, who made the reader of the 
 psalm utter it with so slight an inflection of voice tnat 
 it was nearer speaking than singing. Yet again, when I 
 remember the tears I shed in the psalmody of Thy Church, 
 in the beginning of my recovered faith, and how at this 
 time I am moved, not with the singing, but with the 
 things sung, when they are sung with a clear voice and 
 modulation most suitable, I acknowledge the great use of 
 this institution. Thus I fluctuate between peril and 
 pleasure, and approved wholesomeness ; inclined the 
 rather (though not as pronouncing an irrevocable opinion) 
 to approve of the usage of singing in the church, that so 
 by the delight of the ears the weaker minds may rise to 
 the feelings of devotion. Yet, when it befalls me to be 
 more moved with the voice than with the words sung, 
 confess to have sinned penally, and then had rather not 
 hear music. See now my state : weep with me, and weep 
 for me, ye who so regulate your feelings within as that 
 good action follows. For you who do not act, these 
 things touch not you. But thou, O Lord my God, 
 hearken, behold, and see, and have mercy and heal me, 
 Thou in whose presence I have become a problem to my- 
 self; and that is my infirmity.*' 
 
 be 
 ,1 
 
88 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Such, was the conflict in St Austin's mind, which 
 afterwards found a broad battle-field in Christendom ; 
 the great debate whether art more tends to draw our 
 whole mixed nature heavenwards, or to draw the soul 
 earthwards. With regard to music in psalms, and hymns, 
 and spiritual songs, the question seems to be settled 
 in the same all-penetrating pages where it is written, 
 " Every creature of God is good, and to be received with 
 thanksgiving." Nevertheless, the relations of the hymns 
 and church music of his day to a heart and spirit like 
 Augustine's, must have a deep personal interest for us. 
 The words of those early Western hymns seem borne back 
 to us in a melodious echo from the heart of Augustine. 
 
 The character of these early Latin hymns is either 
 objective or occasional. They are inspired by the great 
 objects of the faith, rather than by inward emotions. 
 They are designed for the various ecclesiastical hours 
 (prime, lauds, matins, terce, mid-day, nones, vespers, com- 
 pline, or midnight), or the several days of the week, and 
 seasons of the Christian year, recalling the events in sacred 
 history which characterise each hour, day, or season. 
 
 Sunrise and sunset form naturally the prevailing im- 
 ages of the morning and evening hymns. Christ, the 
 Sun of righteousness that never sets, the Light that 
 never fades, in Himself at once Day and Light, is their 
 great theme. The hymns called Ambrosian are all in 
 one short iambic measure, in itself a monotonous one, 
 and are unrhymed. Their music must have depended on 
 their being rather sung than said, and the melody must 
 have melted them into the heart. Only a few of them 
 are believed to have been written by St Ambrose himselfl 
 
AMBROSIA \ II \ \l\S SUNG BY THE PEOPLE. 89 
 
 WhiNt undisguised Paganism still lingered in Christen- 
 dom, and Bibles were scarce and readers rare, there was a 
 beautiful and practical meaning in linking the passing 
 hours with heaven, thus making Time himself read aloud 
 the Gospel history, and converting the seasons of tin 
 year into a kind of pictorial Bible for the poor. For it 
 MM always be remembered that the early Latin hymns 
 were no mere recreations of monastic literary retirement, 
 but sacred popular songs, in a language probably as little 
 varying from the common speech of the people then, 
 as the book Italian of to-day from the various spoken 
 dialects of Milan, Genoa, and Venice. They were not 
 merely read by priests out of missals, or chanted by ela- 
 borate choirs in cathedrals; but, as St Ambrose and St 
 Augustine tell us, were murmured by the people at their 
 work and in their homes, and sung in grand choruses in 
 the great congregation. These sacred songs, in which the 
 Milanese of those days " rivalled one another in chanting 
 the praises of the Blessed Trinity," are no bare and dry 
 statements of opinion, no mere fierce party-cry, nor, as 
 With the later monks, an ingenious mosaic of subtle dis- 
 tinctions, or a clever compendium of a difficult science. 
 They were earnest, simple, reverent prayers and thanks- 
 givings to God their Father, God their Redeemer, perfect 
 in sympathising humanity and infinite Deity, and God 
 their Comforter, Three Persons in one incomprehensible 
 but most gracious Godhead. Christ was to those who 
 sang them, not only the Eternal Light of Light, the co- 
 equal Son of the Father, but their Sun and their Shit 1.1. 
 
 The first four hymns here translated may help us to be 
 present at the devotions of our brethren fourteen hundred 
 
90 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 years ago, at morning, evening, mid-day, and midnight. 
 The first of which a translation is attempted, is the one 
 which in the original shed such peace on St Augustine's 
 sorrowful heart on the morning after his mother's death. 
 He speaks of it as the composition of St Ambrose him- 
 self. There is certainly something most practical and 
 beautiful in connecting, as this hymn does, the return 
 of morning with that look with which the Lord turned 
 and looked on Peter. 
 
 HYMN AT THE COCK-CROWING. 
 
 (JEJterne rerum Conditor.) 
 
 Eternal Maker of the world, 
 Who rulest both the night and day, 
 
 With order'd times dividing Time, 
 Our toil and sorrow to allay. 
 
 The watchful herald of the dawn 
 Announces day with trumpet shrill ) 
 
 Lamp to the wayfarer at night, 
 Night from itseif dividing still. 
 
 The morning star arising bright 
 
 Dissolves the darkness from the sky ; 
 
 And, startled from their baleful schemes, 
 The armed powers of darkness fly. 
 
 The mariner reknits his strength ; 
 
 The stormy sea is lull'd to sleep ; 
 And Peter, called the Church's Eock,* 
 
 Hearing this sound, his sin doth weep. 
 
 * Dean Trench, in his " Sacred Latin Poetry," says, with reference to 
 this line, that St Ambrose elsewhere explains this Rock of the Church 
 to be " not the flesh, but the faith of Peter." 
 
CT HILAR Y'8 MORNING HYMN*. 01 
 
 To strenuous labour let us rise, 
 The cock calls those who slumbering lie, 
 
 Awakes the sluggard from his couch, 
 Convicts who would their Lord deny. 
 
 At the cock-crowing, hope returns, 
 New health through suff'riug bodies flows, 
 
 The midnight thief his weapon hides, 
 New faith in sinking spirits glows. 
 
 Jesus ! upon the falling, look, 
 And, looking, heal us, Lord, we pray ; 
 
 For at Thy look the fallen rise, 
 And guilt in tears dissolves away. 
 
 Do Thou, our Light, illume our sense, 
 Do Thou our minds from slumber free ; 
 
 For Thee our voices first proclaim, 
 And with our lips we sing to Thee. 
 
 ST HILARY'S MORNING HYMN. 
 
 (Lucis Largitor splendide.) 
 
 Thou bounteous Giver of the light, 
 
 All-glorious, in whose light serene, 
 Now that the night has pass'd away, 
 
 The day pours back her sunny sheen. 
 
 Thou art the world's true Morning Star, 
 Not that which on the edge of nighty 
 
 Faint herald of a little orb, 
 
 Shines with a dim and narrow light 
 
 Far brighter than our earthly sun, 
 Thyself at once the Light and Day, 
 
92 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 The inmost chambers of the heart 
 Illumining with heavenly ray. 
 
 Thou Eadiance of the Father's light, 
 Draw near, Creator Thou of all ; 
 
 The fears of whose removed grace, 
 Our hearts with direst dread appal. 
 
 And may Thy Spirit fill our souls, 
 That in the common needs of time, 
 
 In converse with our fellow-men, 
 We may be free from every crime. 
 
 Be every evil lust repelPd 
 By guard of inward purity, 
 
 That the pure body evermore 
 The Spirit's holy shrine may be. 
 
 These are our votive offerings, 
 This hope^inspires us as we pray, 
 
 That this our holy matin light 
 May guide us through the busy day. 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 (Christe, qui Lux es et Dies.) 
 
 Christ, who art both our Light and Day, 
 Shine with Thy face the night away ; 
 For very Light of Light Thou art, 
 Who dost most blessed light impart. 
 
 We pray Thee, O most holy Lord, 
 Defence to us this night afford ; 
 With quiet let these hours be blest, 
 And calm in Thee, Lord, be our rest. 
 
MID-DAY HYMN. 9* 
 
 No heavy sleep o'er us prevail, 
 
 is our deadly foe assail; 
 Nor by our flesh, through him beguiled*. 
 Bo before Thee tiie soul denied. 
 
 Sleep on our eyes its hold must take, 
 But let our hearts to Thee awake ; 
 And let Thine own right hand defend 
 Thy servants who on Thee depend. 
 
 Thy servants, purchased with Thy blood, 
 Yet burden'd with their mortal load, 
 Remember, Lord ! be present here ; 
 Defender of the soul ! bo near. 
 
 MID-DAY HYMN. 
 
 (Jam sexta sensim solvitur.) 
 
 With silent step we see to-day 
 The noontide hour before us glide ; 
 Day, poised upon her course midway, 
 Looks to the night on either side. 
 
 Ye faithful servants, be not dumb, 
 With suppliant hearts and voices come, 
 The name of God with songs to greet — 
 The Blessed Name with praises meet. 
 
 For, lo ! the hour is come again 
 When sentenced once by mortal men 
 The Judge of all was doom'd to die, 
 And on the Cross was lifted high. 
 
 A sudden horror paled the sun 
 To see that matchless crime begun ; 
 
94 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Swift from that impious day he flies, 
 And o'er the earth the death-pall lies. 
 
 The ancient Foe retains his guile, 
 Meets every hour with force or wile ; 
 But we, with love to Jesus due, 
 And holy fear, his ranks press through. 
 
 Thus, suppliant, we the Father own, 
 Together with the King, the Son, 
 And Holy Ghost, one Trinity ; 
 With lowly hearts beseeching Thee, 
 
 That whom He suffer'd to redeem 
 When thus the noon tide hour grew dim, 
 Again in glory now array'd, 
 His intercession still may aid. 
 
 MIDNIGHT HYMN. 
 
 {Medice noctis tempus est.) 
 
 It is the midnight hour, 
 
 Prophetic voices warn ; 
 To Father and to Son once more 
 
 Now be our praise upborne ; 
 
 And to the Paraclete, — 
 
 The perfect Trinity, 
 God in one substance infinite, 
 
 Ceaseless our praise should be. 
 
 TeiTor possess'd this hour 
 
 When once the Angel sped 
 Through Egypt with destroying power. 
 
 And the first-born lay dead. 
 
M 
 
 Thia hour redemption bore 
 
 Peace to the sous of God ; 
 The angel paas'd their thresholds o'er, 
 
 Knowing the sign of blood. 
 
 From Ejgypt's weeping voice 
 
 Burst forth the bitter cry ; 
 Israel alone could then rejoice, 
 
 For the Lamb's sake pass'd by. 
 
 We are Thine Israel ; 
 
 We joy in Thee, God ! 
 And we the ancient foe repel, 
 
 Redeem'd by Christ's own blood. 
 
 At midnight bursts the cry, 
 
 So saith the evangelist, 
 u Arise ! the Bridegroom draweth nigh, 
 
 The King of heaven, the Christ." 
 
 The virgins then, the wise, 
 
 Go forth their Lord to meet ; 
 Bearing their radiant lamps, they rise, 
 
 Then is their joy complete. 
 
 The foolish virgins sleep, 
 
 They seek for light too late ; 
 In vain they knock, and call, and weep, 
 
 Closed is the palace gate. 
 
 Let us keep steadfast guard 
 
 With lighted hearts all night, 
 That, when He comes, we stand prepared, 
 
 And meet Him with delight 
 
 At midnight's season chill, 
 Lay Paul and Silas bound; 
 
96 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Bound, and in prison, sang they still, 
 And, singing, freedom found. 
 
 Our prison is this earth, 
 
 And yet we sing to Thee ! 
 Break sin's strong fetters, lead us forth, 
 
 Set us, believing, free. 
 
 Meet for thy realm in heaven 
 
 Make us, holy King ! 
 That through the ages it be given 
 
 To us Thy praise to sing. 
 
 The following hymn, in many parts, so much resembles 
 the " Te Deum," that it seems more appropriate to trans- 
 late it without metre : — 
 
 HYMN TO CHRIST. 
 
 (Christe, Rex coeli, Domine.) 
 
 1 Lord Christ, King of heaven, great Saviour of the world, 
 who by the gift of the Cross has absolved us from the penalty 
 of death, 
 
 2 We beseech Thee to preserve the gifts which by the 
 catholic law Thou hast given to all nations. 
 
 3 Thou art the Eternal Word, proceeding from the Father, 
 very God of very God, the only begotten Son. 
 
 4 The whole creation, begun at the decree of the Father, by 
 Thy might perfected, doth acknowledge Thee to be the Lord. 
 
 5 All the angels shew Thy heavenly glory ; the choir of the 
 archangels with divine voices praise Thee. 
 
 6 The multitude of the four-and-twenty elders, bearing vials 
 full of odours, suppliant adore Thee. 
 
 7 Cherubim and seraphim, thrones of the Father's lights 
 beating their six wings, to Thee continually do cry, 
 
8T AMBROSE'8 ADVENT II 97 
 
 8 Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth ; heaven and earth 
 arc full of Thy glory. 
 
 lloaanna to the Son of David; blessed art Thou of the 
 Father, Lord, who comest from the highest in the name of 
 God. 
 
 10 Thou, the spotless Lamb, hast given Thyself a victim on 
 the earth, who hast washed the robes of the saints in Thine 
 own blood. 
 
 11 The host of blessed martyrs dwelling in heaven, glorious 
 with palms and crowns, follow Thee, the Prince of glory. 
 
 1 2 We pray Thee add us to their number, Lord. With 
 one voice we acknowledge Thee, and praise Thee with one 
 song. 
 
 The following verses are extracted from St Ambrose's 
 celebrated hymn on the Advent It is the first of the 
 series of translations here selected from the Ambrosian 
 hymns on the truths commemorated in the various fes- 
 tivals : — 
 
 ADVENT HYMN. 
 8T AMBROSE. 
 
 (Veni, Redemptor gentium.) 
 
 Eedeemer of the nations, come ; 
 Pure offspring of the Virgin's womb, 
 Seed of the woman, promised long, 
 Let ages swell Thine advent song. 
 
 Once from the Father came He forth, 
 Home to the Father rose from earth ; 
 The depths of hell the Saviour trod, 
 Now seated on the throne of God. 
 
 To God the Father equal, Word, 
 Thy mortal vesture on Thee gird; 
 o 
 
98 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBKOSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 The weakness of our flesh at length 
 Sustaining by Thy changeless strength. 
 
 Thy cradle shines the darkness through, 
 Illuming night with lustre new, 
 Which never night shall hide again, 
 But faith in ceaseless light retain. 
 
 ON THE EPIPHANY. 
 ATJRELIUS PRUDENTIUS CLEMENS. 
 
 (0 sola magnarum urbium.) 
 
 Small among cities, Bethlehem, 
 Yet far in greatness passing them ; 
 He who shall King and Saviour be, 
 The Infinite, is born in thee. 
 
 That radiant star, which hath the sun 
 In beauty and in light outshone, 
 Proclaims that God has come to earth 
 In mortal flesh, of human birth. 
 
 The Magi, guided by that star, 
 Their Eastern offerings bring from far, 
 Prostrate, with vows, their gifts unfold, 
 Myrrh, frankincense, and royal gold. 
 
 Treasures and perfumes rich they bring, 
 Meet tributes for the God and King; 
 Embalming frankincense and myrrh 
 Foretell the mortal sepulchre. 
 
 The two following hymns have a peculiar interest as 
 simple narratives, by which, no doubt, the glad tidings 
 were sung into the hearts of the people, although there is 
 
HYMN ON THE PASSION. 99 
 
 a danger of the simplicity of the original sinking in a 
 translation into the jingle of a nursery ballad : — 
 
 ON THE PASSION. 
 
 (ffymnum dkamus Domino.) 
 
 Come let us sing unto the Lord 
 
 A song of highest praise to God, 
 Who on the accursed and shameful tree* 
 
 Redeem'd us by His blood 
 
 The day was sinking into eve, 
 
 The blessed Lord's betrayal-day, 
 When impious to the Supper came 
 
 He who would Christ betray. 
 
 Jesus at that last supper then 
 
 Tells the disciples what shall be : 
 u For one of you betrayeth Me, 
 
 Of you who eat with Me." 
 
 Judas, by basest greed seduced, 
 
 Seeks to betray Him with a kiss ; 
 He, as a meek and spotless lamb, 
 
 Denies not Judas this. 
 
 Thus for some thirty counted pence, 
 The impious bargain Judas made ; 
 
 And Christ, the harmless, blameless Lord, 
 Is to the Jews betray'd. 
 
 Pilate, the governor, proclaim'd, 
 " Lo, I in Him no fault can find ;" 
 
 Washing in water then his hands, 
 Christ to His foes resign'd. 
 
 •"PatibuloarucU." 
 
100 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 The blinded Jews rejected Him, 
 And chose a murderer instead ; 
 
 Of Christ, " Let Him be crucified," 
 With bitter words they said. 
 
 Barabbas then is freed, as bound, 
 Guilty, and doom'd to death He lies ; 
 
 And the world's Life is crucified, 
 By whom the dead arise. 
 
 EASTER HYMN. 
 
 {Aurora lucis rutilat.) 
 
 The morning kindles all the sky, 
 
 The heavens resound with anthems high, 
 
 The earth's exulting songs reply, 
 
 Hell wails a great and bitter cry. 
 
 For He, the strong and rightful King, 
 Death's heavy fetters severing, 
 Treads 'neath His feet the ancient foe, 
 Redeems a wretched race from woe. 
 
 Vainly with rocks His tomb they barr'd, 
 While Roman guards kept watch and ward 
 Majestic from the spoiled tomb 
 In pomp of triumph He is come. 
 
 Let the long wail at length give place, 
 The groanings of a sentenced race, 
 The shining angels, as they speed, 
 Proclaim, " The Lord is risen indeed ! " 
 
 The sad apostles mourn'd their loss, 
 They mused upon the shameful Cross, 
 
1 u 1 
 
 They mourn'd their Master basely ll 
 They knew not He must rise again. 
 
 B (1. ;.»! | 
 
 The women came to embalm the 
 To them the angel gently said, 
 With gracious words, "In Galilee 
 Your risen Lord ye now may > ^ee." 
 
 Then hasting on their eager way, 
 The blessed tidings swift to say, 
 At once their living Lord they meet, 
 And stoop to kiss His sacred feet. 
 
 When the bereaved disciples heard, 
 Their hearts with speechless joy were stirr'd ; 
 They also haste to Galilee, 
 Their Lord's adored 'face to see. 
 
 The sun the happy world doth cheer 
 With Easter joy, serene and clear, • 
 
 As on the Christ, this day of days, 
 Enrapt, with mortal eyes, they gaze. 
 
 His piercdd hands to them He shows, 
 
 Where love's divinest radiance glows; 
 
 They with the angel's message speed, 
 
 ' Proclaim, " The Lord is risen indeed ! " 
 
 Christ, our King compassionate, 
 Our hearts possess ; on Thee we wait, 
 That we may render prais*es due 
 To Thee the endless ages through. 
 
 The next hymn is attributed by Mone to St Ambrose 
 himself : — 
 
102 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAL HYMNS. 
 
 EASTER HYMN. 
 
 {Hie est dies verus Dei.) 
 
 This is the very day of God, 
 Serene with holy light it came — 
 In which the stream of sacred blood 
 Swept over the world's crime and shame. 
 
 Lost souls with faith once more it fill'd, 
 The darkness from blind eyes dissolved ; 
 Whose load of fear, too great to yield, 
 Seeing the dying thief absolved 1 
 
 Changing the cross for the reward, 
 That moment's faith obtains his Lord, 
 Before the just his spirit flies, 
 The first-fruits enters Paradise. 
 
 m The angels ponder, wondering, 
 They see the body's pain and strife, 
 They see to Christ the guilty cling, 
 And reap at once the blessed life. 
 
 admirable Mystery ! 
 
 The sins of all are laid on Thee ; 
 
 And Thou, to cleanse the world's deep stain, 
 
 As man dost bear the sins of men. 
 
 What can be ever more sublime ! 
 That grace might meet the guilt of time, 
 Love doth the bonds of fear undo, 
 And death restores our life anew. 
 
 Death's fatal spear himself doth wound ; 
 With his own fetters he is bound. 
 
103 
 
 Lo ! dead the Life of all men lies, 
 That life anew for all might rise ;— 
 
 That since death thus hath pass'd on all, 
 The dead might all arise again ; 
 By his own death-blow death might fall, 
 And o'er his unshared fall complain. 
 
 The following Easter Hymn, among the most ancient 
 of all, Daniel ("Thesaurus," L 89) suggests may have 
 been sung in the early Church by the newly baptized 
 catechumens, when, in their white robes, they first drew 
 near to partake of the Lord's Supper. This double sym- 
 bolism does not lessen the beauty of the scriptural 
 imagery : — 
 
 EASTER HYMN. 
 
 (Ad ccsnam Agni providi.) 
 The Supper of the Lamb to share, 
 We come in vesture white and fair ; 
 The Red Sea cross'd, our hymn we sing 
 To Christ, our Captain and our King.. 
 
 His holy body on the cross, 
 Farch'd, on that altar hung for us, 
 And drinking of His crimson blood, 
 We live upon the living God. 
 
 Protected in the Paschal night 
 From the destroying angel's might, v 
 And by a powerful hand set free 
 From Pharaoh's bitter slavery. 
 
 For Christ our Passover is slain, 
 The Lamb is offer'd not in vain ; 
 With truth's sincere unleaven'd bread 
 His flesh He gave, His blood He shed. 
 
104: ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAL HYMNS. 
 
 Victim, worthy Thou for ever, 
 Who didst the bands of hell dissever, 
 Redeem Thy captives from the foe, 
 The gift of life afresh bestow. 
 
 "When Christ from out the tomb arose, 
 Victor o'er hell and all His foes, 
 The tyrant forth in chains He drew, 
 And planted Paradise anew. 
 
 Author of all, to Thee we pray, 
 In this our Easter joy to-day; 
 From every weapon death can wield 
 Thy trusting people ever shield. 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 {Optatus votis omnium) 
 
 At length the long'd-for joy is given, 
 The sacred day begins to shine, 
 When Christ our God, our Hope divine, 
 
 Ascends the radiant steep of heaven. 
 
 Ascending where He used to be, 
 
 The Lord resumes His ancient throne ; 
 The heavenly realms with joys unknown, 
 
 Only-begotten, welcome Thee. 
 
 The mighty victory is wrought, 
 The prince of this world lieth low ; 
 The Son to God presenteth now 
 
 The human flesh in which He fought. 
 
 High o'er the clouds He comes to reign, 
 Gives hope to those who in Him trust; 
 The Paradise which Adam lost 
 
 He opens wide to man again. 
 
ASCENSION HYMN. 105 
 
 O mighty joy to all our race ! 
 The Virgin-born, who bore for us 
 The stripes, the spitting, and the cross, 
 
 Takes on the Father's throne His place. 
 
 To Thee let ceaseless praises rise, 
 
 Champion of our salvation Thou, 
 
 Bearing Thy human body now 
 In the high palace of the skies. 
 
 One common joy this day shall fill 
 
 The hearts of angels and of men ; 
 
 To them that Thou art come again, 
 To us that Thou art with us still. 
 
 Now, following in the steps He trod, 
 Tis ours to look for Christ from heaven, 
 And so to live that it be given 
 
 To rise with Him at last to God. 
 
 ASCENSION HYMN. 
 
 (Jesic nostra Redemptio.) 
 
 Jesus, our Redemption now, 
 Our Desire and Love art Thou ; 
 God before creation's prime, 
 Man born in the end of time. 
 
 What compassion vanquish'd Thee, 
 Brought Thee to the shameful tree — 
 Bearing our transgressions there, 
 Thy redeem'd from death to spare ! 
 
 Piercing to the depths of hell, 
 All its strength before Thee fell, 
 Ransoming thy captive band, 
 Seated now at God's right hand. 
 
106 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 Love constrain'd Thee, Lord, to this, 
 That we might partake Thy bliss ; 
 O'er our sin abounds Thy grace — 
 Satisfy us with Thy face. 
 
 Be our joy, we pray Thee, now; 
 Our reward eternal Thou ; 
 And as countless ages flee, 
 All our glory be in Thee. 
 
 By means of Latin hymns such as these, if all other 
 sacred literature of the period had perished, might we 
 not trace the course of Christian life in the fourth cen- 
 tury from hour to hour, and from day to day throughout 
 the year? An ideal life this would indeed be, rather 
 than one led in full by any sinful man on earth. But 
 the ideal is the standard of the actual; the aim shews 
 the direction of the effort, though it may not indeed 
 shew how nearly the object was attained. 
 
 In the morning, then, these hymns would awake those 
 in whose hearts their melody lived to the shining of an 
 eternal Sun, serene in changeless and life-giving light; 
 and illumined by Him, " spurning sloth, and casting off 
 the works of darkness," they would go forth as children 
 of the Day to the day's work. The third hour reminded 
 them that then Jesus had been crucified; the glow of the 
 southern noon, that then the Light of the world had hung 
 in darkness on the cross for their redemption; at the 
 ninth hour, the cloud had passed from the cross. At 
 evening they lay down in peace, Christ, at once their 
 Light and their Day, shining through the thickest dark- 
 ness; and in Him they found rest. Midnight also had 
 its radiant cluster of sacred memories; the Paschal Lamb, 
 
YX YEAR. 
 
 Um praises sung by Paul and Silas in the prison, the cry 
 "The Bridegroom cometh!" Thus the round of 
 and solemn recollections brought them back to the cock- 
 crowing, and they were reminded of that unutterable look 
 with which the Lord turned and looked on Peter, and 
 melted all the ice from his heart Day after day bore its 
 own story of the creating and redeeming work of God. 
 The manger of the infant Saviour, and the star of Beth- 
 lehem, shone through their winter. Spring, with the 
 singing of birds, and the splendour of flowers, and all its 
 dawning of new life, brought also the morning of 
 the resurrection; the Easter joy of nature and of the 
 Church burst forth in harmony. Summer led their hearts 
 up through its radiant depths of light to the surpassing 
 glory of the throne where sitteth the ascended Son of 
 God, restored to the right hand of the Father. And with 
 the fulness of life in the natural world, came the fulness 
 of life in the spiritual, as Pentecost recalled the descent 
 of the life-giving Spirit to abide with the Church for 
 
 There were also commemorations of martyrs and just 
 men; but although the early hymns on these subjects are 
 chiefly historical, and praises of the saints sung to the 
 King of saints, it must be confessed they are not all free 
 from invocations to the creature. Still, although this 
 01 il was indeed steadily creeping on, the terrible compli- 
 cation of superstitions, which at length so neariy eclipsed 
 all the sunshine, was not yet developed. As yet, the 
 Name of Jesus was indeed above every name ; the martyrs 
 and saints in heaven were still practically regarded but 
 as servants on the steps of His glorious throne, torch- 
 
108 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROS1AN HYMNS. 
 
 bearers at His marriage-feast. For present light, and 
 pardon, and strength, these hymns steadily point to 
 Christ alone ; His cross, His resurrection, and His dwell- 
 ing in the heavens, are the source of every hope. That 
 whole order of external services, sometimes called the 
 Church, was indeed gradually travelling from that place 
 where it fully reflected the Sun to the opposite point ; the 
 full-orbed " eternal pearl" was waning slowly into the 
 hemisphere, and the crescent, and the thin thread of 
 silver, but it had not yet become quite dark, still less had 
 it eclipsed the sun. The mirror had not yet been trans- 
 ferred into the place of the window, thus itself ceasing to 
 shine, and hiding the light by which it shone. The veil 
 of the temple was indeed being woven again, and silently 
 drawn back into its old place ; generation after genera- 
 tion thickening its texture with some fresh embroidery, 
 imagining they adorned the sanctuary, whilst they only 
 closed it; but the glorious rent was not yet repaired, and 
 heaven still shone through — heaven, with its crystal sea, 
 its songs, and its white-robed multitudes, and in the 
 midst the Lamb, in whose blood those robes had been 
 made white. 
 
 Surely these early Latin hymns testify to this and to 
 much besides. There is still in them the healthy upward 
 tendency of early times. They seek rather to pierce the 
 heavens to Christ, than to dive into the heart for emotion. 
 One glorious Person shines above and through them all. 
 
 And whilst, from other symptoms, we know that super- 
 stition increased, can we not trace in these hymns an 
 advance in the apprehension of the truth ? Truth, indeed, 
 came complete to us from God, enshrined in the crystal 
 
uoss. 109 
 
 le. But ia there not in the Church, as well as 
 in the soul, a growth in the knowledge of Christ, a gra- 
 dual enlightening of the mind to perceive the treasures 
 laid up in Him? The armoury was indeed fully fur- 
 d from the first; not one weapon has been added 
 since the Saviour vanquished Satan for us, and St Paul 
 proved the panoply. But age after age has brought «>ut 
 arms from the inexhaustible store, as they were 
 needed. The Arian controversy, whilst it brought forth 
 a quantity of vain subtleties and bitter words, rang from 
 tin- time metal a sound clearer than it had yielded before. 
 ]t brought up from the old mine many a jewel for the 
 crown of Him who is King of kings. It struck from the 
 heart of the true Church many an adoring hymn to her 
 Lord. 
 
 And in those early Latin hymns is there not a clearer 
 utterance of the great truth of the Cross, the truth which 
 sustains the heart in life and death, than even in the 
 early Oriental hymns? The trust in the Lamb of God, 
 smitten for our transgressions, and bearing away our sins, 
 does indeed shine through the Oriental hymns, but is it 
 not more pervading and glowing in the Ambrosian ? Is 
 there not, in this respect, more of the impress of the 
 Apostolic Epistles on these last? How frequently the 
 image of the Paschal Lamb recurs in them, the words 
 " redeemed by Thy blood," and the thought of Jesus bear- 
 ing death in our stead, the Just submitting willingly 
 to the penalty that the unjust might be redeemed, 
 liberated, and made holy ! The tone of the " Te Deum" 
 thrills through them all : — " We therefore pray Thee, 
 help Thy servants whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy 
 
110 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS. 
 
 precious blood ;" and it is the echo of a yet earlier and 
 deeper song. 
 
 This chapter may be closed by a hymn extracted from 
 a longer poem by Prudentius. It was never incorporated 
 into the public services of the Church until the Reforma- 
 tion, when, after lying comparatively dormant from the 
 fourth century to the sixteenth, it awoke to life as the 
 favourite funeral hymn of the Protestants of Germany. 
 Such it remained for many years, sometimes in the ori- 
 ginal Latin, and sometimes in a German translation. 
 
 FUNERAL HYMN, BY PRUDENTIUS. 
 
 {Jam mcesta quiesce querela.) 
 
 Ah ! hush now your mournful complainings, 
 Npr, mothers, your sweet babes deplore ; 
 
 This death we so shrink from but cometh 
 The ruin of life to restore. 
 
 Who now would the sculptor's rich marble, 
 
 Or beautiful sepulchres, crave 1 
 We lay them but here in their slumber; 
 
 This earth is a couch, not a grave. 
 
 This body a desolate casket, 
 
 Deprived of its jewel, we see ; 
 But soon, her old colleague rejoining, 
 
 The soul reunited shall be. 
 
 For quickly the day is approaching, 
 When life through these cold limbs shall flow, 
 
 And the dwelling, restored to its inmate, 
 With the old animation shall glow. 
 
Ill 
 
 The body which lay in dishonour, 
 
 In tho mouldering tomb to decay, 
 Rejoin'd to tho spirit which dwelt there, 
 
 Shall soar like a swift bird away. 
 
 The seed which we sow in its weakness, 
 In the spring shall rise green from the earth 
 
 And the dead we thus mournfully bury, 
 In God's spring-time again shall shine forth. 
 
 Mother Earth, in thy soft bosom cherish 
 
 Whom we lay to repose in thy dufet; 
 For precious these relics we yieldAthee: 
 
 Be faithful, O Earth, to thy trust. 
 
 This once was the home of a spirit 
 
 Created, and breathed from its God ; 
 The wisdom and love Christ imparteth 
 
 Once held in this frame their abode. 
 
 Then shelter the sacred deposit ; 
 
 The Maker will claim it of thee ; 
 The Sculptor will never forget it, 
 
 Once form'd in His image to be. 
 
 The happy and just times are coming, 
 
 When God every hope shall fulfil; 
 And visibly then thou must render 
 
 What now in thy keeping lies stilL 
 
 For though, through the slow lapse of ages, 
 These mouldering bones should grow old, 
 
 Reduced to a handful of ashes 
 A child in its hands might enfold : 
 
 Though flames should consume it, and breeses 
 Invisibly float it away, 
 
112 ST AMBROSE AND THE AMBROSIAN HYMNS, 
 
 Yet the body of man cannot perish, 
 Indestructible through its decay. 
 
 Yet whilst, our God, o'er the body 
 Thou watchest, to mould it again, 
 
 What region of rest hast Thou ordered 
 Where the spirit unclothed may remain ? 
 
 In the bosom of saints is her dwelling,' 
 Where the fathers and Lazarus are, 
 
 Whom the rich man, athirst, in his anguish 
 Beholds in their bliss from afar. 
 
 We follow Thy words, Redeemer, 
 When, trampling on Death in his pride, 
 
 Thou sentest to tread in Thy footsteps 
 The thief on the cross at Thy side. 
 
 I The bright way of Paradise open'd, 
 For every believer has space ; 
 And that garden again we may enter 
 
 Which the serpent once closed to our race. 
 
 Thus violets sweet, and green branches, 
 Oft over these relics we strew ; 
 
 The name on these cold stones engraven 
 With perfumes we '11 fondly bedew. 
 
nu: <;kkat. \t..\an HOT : .ic. 113 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, AXD THE 
 VENERABLE BEDE. 
 
 Wb are now approaching the middle ages ; but before 
 I ;ilry and the Crusaders, Gothic architecture and the 
 i em, and all the various civil and social elements 
 which are generally thought characteristic of that period, 
 had taken definite form, we pass through a border land, 
 left waste for the struggles of the ancient and modern 
 races, literature and civilisation. This border land has 
 its rich and wild border minstrelsy, and is as fertile in 
 wonders to us as it was barren of rest and comfort to 
 those who lived in it. Mediaeval legend takes wing 
 from thence as from the heroic ages of modern Christen- 
 dom. Its heroes are canonised saints, an army counted 
 and memorialised by tens of thousands. Old Roman 
 names and titles lie strewn about in picturesque con- 
 fusion amongst new Gothic names and titles; and the 
 Gothic names further increase the perplexity, by being, 
 for the most part, ashamed of their parentage, and tr 
 to look like Latin. Emperors and kings, prefects and dukes, 
 consuls and counts, peers and paladins, caliphs and em- 
 presses, Irish monks and jGreek rhetoricians, the " demon 
 Minerva" and Saint Rhadegunda, move about amongst each 
 
 H 
 
114 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 other in these ages with easy familiarity, and it would be dif- 
 ficult to convict the most extravagant legend of anachronism 
 in recording days when anachronisms were the rule. 
 
 The disorder and wretchedness of these golden ages 
 of legend was extreme. Thoughtful men believed that 
 these were the last days. They could see no existing 
 elements which could evolve a world from .this chaos, and 
 looked for no amelioration, save in the Budden, manifest 
 destruction of the old order, and the creation of a new. 
 Gregory the Great, Bishop of Rome (590), said, in a ser- 
 mon, "Those saints, on whose graves we stand, had 
 hearts exalted enough to despise the world in its bloom" 
 (to him, also, the golden age lay in the past) ; " there was 
 then long life amongst men, continued prosperity, rest, 
 and peace ; and yet, whilst the world was still blooming 
 in itself, its charm had already faded from their hearts. 
 But now, lo ! the world itself has faded, and yet its charm 
 over our hearts decays not. Everywhere death, every- 
 where misery, everywhere destruction ; we are smitten on 
 all sides — on all sides bitter waters overflow us ; and yet, 
 w r ith senses blinded by earthly passion, we love the very 
 bitterness of the world, we pursue the world flying from 
 our embrace, we cling to the world sinking from our 
 grasp, and, not being able to sustain the sinking world, 
 we, cleaving to it as it sinks, sink with it into the deep. 
 Once the world enchained us by its charms ; now it is so 
 full of misery that of itself it points us to God." And 
 again, in another sermon, " Everywhere do we see mourn- 
 ing, everywhere do we hear sighs. The cities are de- 
 stroyed, the castles are ruined, the fields are laid waste, 
 the whole land is desolate, the villages are empty, and 
 
scarcely an inhabitant ii Kefl m fche ( -iti- ■>, and even this 
 \ remnant of the human race is daily expos* 
 
 tor. The scourge of heavenly justice is not with- 
 :i, because, even under the scourge, no aim -mlnn aft 
 takes place. We see some carried into captivity, some 
 maimed, others shun." Any history of the period will 
 shew us that this is no denunciatory rhetoric. Wild 
 Gothic hosts plundered Lombardy and GauL England 
 and all the shores of Europe were invaded and desolated 
 by northern pirates, and ere the northern tide had sub- 
 sided into settled channels, it was met by another fierce 
 torrent from the south ; and between the devastations of 
 Goth and Saracen, the wretched populations of Western 
 Europe, previously crushed by provincial misgovernment, 
 were tossed helplessly to and fro. Nations there were 
 none. Rome had crushed all the old national life beneath 
 the pressure of her imperial institutions, and now these, 
 in their turn, were crumbling into dust. 
 
 But amidst all this tumult and ruin lived one inde- 
 structible life — the life of believing Christian men, in and 
 from Christ — the life hidden with Christ in God, but 
 beaming forth, in those dark ages, in countless works of 
 mercy, order, and freedom, found nowhere beside. This 
 central life vibrated even to the utmost circumference 
 of the external Church — ever, indeed, in fainter eddies, 
 as the centre was further off, yet still, even at the furthest 
 edge to which its influence thrilled, different from any- 
 thing else in the world. In the days of Ambrose, it was 
 a freedom which made men free to rebuke the crimes, and 
 resist the unjust exactions, of imperial despotism. In the 
 time of universal tumult and disorder which succeeded, 
 
116 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 it was the only principle which had power to preserve its 
 own institutions, amidst the inward decay or outward 
 destruction of every institution besides. A higher and 
 truer manifestation of Christian life than these was the 
 steady contest carried on by the Church against slavery, 
 not, it seems, so much from a conscious opposition as from 
 an unconscious, instinctive repulsion. Frequently, also, 
 from the lives of saints of those times, we find them im- 
 poverishing themselves, straining every means of influence, 
 and even selling church plate and property, to purchase 
 the redemption of the many captives made in those days 
 of perpetual warfare. 
 
 Our work, however, at present, is with the manifesta- 
 tions of Christian life in hymns, rather than in alms ; and 
 among the names of the hymn writers of these periods 
 are those of Gregory the Great, Venantius Fortunatus, 
 Bishop of Poictiers, and the Venerable Bede. 
 
 M. Guizot, in his "Civilisation in Europe," mentions 
 also, amongst the sacred poets of the sixth and seventh 
 centuries, Avitus, Bishop of Yienne, but he seems to have 
 been rather a religious poet than a hymn writer — rather 
 a writer of long poems on scriptural subjects, than one of 
 those whose hymns flowed on into the one great song of 
 the Church, and were carried on the sacred stream from 
 age to age. Were we in search of sacred poetry rather 
 than of hymns, we might probably find more of this in 
 the sermons than in the professedly poetical literature 
 of this period ; at least, we might be tempted to this con- 
 clusion by comparing the following extract from an Easter 
 sermon of Csesarius of Aries, with extracts from the sacred 
 poems of Avitus : — 
 
VENERABLE BEDS. 117 
 
 "Behold," he says, "you have heard what of Hia 
 own good will our Redeemer has accompli si h<1, the 
 of vengeance. When, like a conqueror resplendent 
 and terrible, He reached the land of darkness, the im- 
 pious legions of hell, affrighted and tivmblinu, began to 
 question one another, saying, * Who is this terrible one 
 winning white as snow?' Never has our Tartarus seen 
 His like — never has the world cast into our abysses any 
 resembling Him ; He is an invader, not a debtor ; He 
 exacts, but* demands not ; we see a Judge, not a sup- 
 t ; He comes to command, not to yield ; to rescue, 
 not to remain. Were our porters slumbering when this 
 Conqueror attacked our gates ? If He were a sinner, 
 He were not so mighty; if any fault sullied Him, He 
 would not thus illumine our darkness. If He is God, 
 why is He come ? If He is man, how has He ventured 1 
 IS He is God, what does He in the sepulchre % If He is 
 man, how can He deliver sinners ? Whence comes He, 
 so glorious, so strong, so dazzling, so terrible 1 Who is 
 He breaking thus boldly through our frontiers, not only 
 not fearing our torments, but delivering others from our 
 chains ? Can this be He of whom our prince so lately 
 said, that by His death we should receive the empire of 
 the universe ? But if this be He, the hopes of our prince 
 are frustrated ; when he thought to conquer, he lias been 
 conquered and dethroned. O our prince, what hast thou 
 done, what hast thou designed to do ? Behold, this One, 
 by His lustre, has scattered thy darkness, broken thy 
 dungeons, burst thy chains, delivered thy captives, and 
 changed their mourning into joy.' " 
 
 Caesarius speaks elsewhere of selfishness as the root of 
 
118 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 evil, and love as the root of all good. But it is expressly 
 with hymns, rather than with religious poetry, that we 
 are now concerned ; with those lyrical bursts of song 
 which mark the flow of the great tide of Christian life, 
 rather than with those elaborate compositions which 
 prove only the thought and power of an individual mind. 
 The feature which M. Guizot considers characteristic of 
 the whole literature of the sixth and seventh centuries, is 
 characteristic of hymn literature in all ages. " The cha- 
 racter of the literature of this period," he writes, " was, 
 that it ceased to be a literature ; it had become an action, 
 a power; it sought to act on the depths of the soul, to 
 produce real effects, genuine reformations, effectual con- 
 versions. It was not so much a sacred eloquence as a 
 spiritual power." 
 
 The hymn of this period most generally familiar to us 
 is the " Veni, Creator Spiritus," which has been frequently 
 attributed to Charlemagne, but which Mone* believes to 
 have been the composition of Gregory the Great, Bishop 
 of Rome, A.D. 590. An extract has already been given 
 from one of Gregory's sermons, shewing how deeply he 
 was affected by the miseries of his times. He was no 
 isolated monk — no solitary ascetic, occupied merely with 
 the salvation of his own soul from punishment ; still less 
 was he a mere monastic idler, playing at turning the 
 mysteries of the faith into ingenious rhymes. He was a 
 man who had borne many toils and many honours in the 
 world, had tried the tranquillity of a monastery, and 
 who, at last, ended his life amidst the manifold avocations 
 of the bishopric of Borne, an office which then professed 
 * " Hymni Latini Medii Mvi." 
 
AND Till: \ I NERABLE BEDE. 119 
 
 to combine the labours of a Christian minister with 
 those of a civil governor. His life may therefore be 
 regarded as no especial mountain-top of peculiar sanctity, 
 but as a healthy specimen of the Christian life of his 
 times, and, in connexion with brief sketches of the lives of 
 the Venerable Bede, and Fortunatus, Bishop of Poi» 
 may give us some outline of the religious history of the 
 six tli and seventh centuries. 
 
 Neander speaks of Gregory the Great as the last of the 
 classical Doctors of the Church, as forming a point of 
 transition between the old Roman civilisation and the 
 new Teutonic literature and civilisation, which were to 
 characterise the middle ages. He seems also to be in some 
 measure a link between the East and the West, standing 
 as he did in connexion with many Eastern bishops, al- 
 though himself ignorant of the Greek language. Christen- 
 dom was not yet violently severed into two separate bodies. 
 
 His early training was not ecclesiastical, although his 
 first religious impressions appear to have been early re- 
 ceived. He was, like Ambrose, of a patrician Roman 
 family ; and after distinguishing himself in the studies 
 then considered befitting his rank, being versed in the 
 Latin classics, which were his national literature, and 
 skilled in rhetoric, he was appointed by the Emperor, 
 D the younger, praetor of Rome. He held this office, 
 diligently discharging its duties, until he had reached the 
 age of forty. Then, possessed of a fortune looked on as 
 unlimited, and with every avenue to political distinc- 
 tion open to him, he abandoned all, and retired into 
 a monastery. His character does not seem to have been 
 in the slightest degres capricious or weak. It must have 
 
120 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 been the energy of a nobler ambition, rather than any 
 mere weariness of the world, which led him into this new 
 path. His asceticism, though severe, seems to have been 
 no exaggerated oriental enthusiasm, but an austere self- 
 restraint ;' and in becoming a monk, he does not appear to 
 have fled from the active to the contemplative life, but 
 rather to have entered into a higher sphere of activity. 
 At least, whatever may have been his intentions in thus 
 retiring from the world, his character made the monastic 
 life such to him. He founded six monasteries — one in 
 his father s palace in Rome ; and of one of these he became 
 abbot. * 
 
 At the death of the bishop or pope, Pelagius, the people 
 took him by force to make him pontiff. These forcible 
 ordinations are so frequent in the lives of canonised saints 
 that they seem to be merely a part of the ordinary cere- 
 monial on such occasions. Gregory's character must have 
 been too genuine for affectation, and appears to have been 
 too strong for morbid scruples. At all events, once on 
 the episcopal throne, it must have seemed to him his 
 natural place, and he acted as if he felt so. The episcopate 
 was to him no mere place of precedence in a ceremonial. 
 Goethe has said, "Happy the people when the govern- 
 ment is a burden rather than a decoration to the ruler ; '* 
 and to Gregory the episcopal see of Rome was certainly a 
 serious weight, although one under which the strong man 
 marched boldly forward. He seriously considered hjm- 
 self in some sense the responsible head of Christendom; 
 and with that view, whilst he firmly resisted the claim of 
 the Patriarch of Constantinople to the title of " universal 
 bishop, 1 * and rejected the same title for himself, he called 
 
AXD THE VENERABLE BEDE, 1 '2 1 
 
 himself servant of the servants of God, and lived as 
 Of his revenues he kept the strictest account. These 
 accounts were preserved for three hundred years in the 
 Vatican. He inspected the minutest details whm neces- 
 sary, and administered all as a just steward for the Church 
 and the poor. The economy of charity was not then 
 studied as it is now, and perhaps Gregory's alms, whilst 
 relieving much real distress, created some idle mendi- 
 cancy ; but in those days of Lombard invasions and Frank- 
 i-h devastations, the wisest charity could scarcely extend 
 beyond supplying the wants of the day and repairing the 
 desolations of the past; and this, by maintaining the 
 poor, and ransoming many captives, Gregory faithfully did. 
 Some poor old men once came to him from Ravenna ; he 
 asked them how they had been helped on their journey, 
 and finding that aid had been refused them by Marinian, 
 the new Bishop of Ravenna, once a monk in the same 
 monastery with himself, he wrote to a friend to admonish 
 him thus : — " I am surprised that one who has clothes, who 
 has silver, who has a cellar, should have nothing to give 
 to the poor. Tell him that with his position he must also 
 change his way of life. £»et him not think that reading 
 and prayer are enough for him now, nor that he should 
 sit solitary in a corner without bringing forth fruit in 
 action. He must help those who suffer need, and regard 
 the wants of strangers as his own ; otherwise, the title of 
 bishop is for him an empty name." These words, with 
 the following, may give some idea of his own labours : — 
 " I must care,*' he writes, " at once for the bishops and 
 the clergy, the monasteries and the churches, must be 
 vigilant against the snares of enemies, and ever on my 
 
122 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 guard against the treachery and wickedness of those, in 
 authority." His correspondence extended from Alexan- 
 dria to England, including a Lombard queen, an Eastern 
 emperor and patriarch, and the missionary Augustine. 
 His objects were practical ; petitioning for the oppressed, 
 resisting unjust claims, exhorting to fervour in evangelis- 
 ing labours. His alms-giving, conscientious and extensive 
 as it was, must in itself have been a calling ; but he be- 
 lieved the love that gave, and not the thing given, to be 
 the true alms. "The man is incomparably better," he 
 wrote, " than the thing f and love he spoke of as " the 
 root of every virtue, and the bond which binds all graces 
 into one." With him spiritual blessings, either in giving 
 or receiving, far outweighed temporal. He writes, " It 
 is written, 'Let him that heareth say, Come.' Whoever has 
 heard the voice of heavenly love in his heart may speak 
 words of exhortation to his neighbour. He may perhaps 
 have no bread to give to the needy, but there is something 
 greater, which every one who has a tongue can give. For 
 it is more to refresh the soul destined to eternal life by 
 the nourishment of the word, than to satisfy the mortal 
 body with earthly bread. Thus, my brethren, withhold 
 not from your neighbour the alms of the word." He 
 himself continued to preach when the Lombard armies 
 carried their devastations close to the walls of Rome, 
 whilst, as one of the great vassals of the Eastern empire, 
 he did his best to secure the defence of the city. 
 
 We all know the beautiful story of his going into the 
 slave market at Rome, and, touched with the beauty of 
 some English slaves there, exclaiming, "If they were 
 Christians, they were not Angles but angels;" a sacred 
 
II IK VENERABLE N 
 
 which newer loft his heart until he sent Augusti 
 Roman abbot, and several fellow-labourers as missionaries 
 to England. Nor was he content witi) mere external 
 versions. On hearing of the conversion of Reccared, the 
 Visigothic King of Spain, from the Arian to the Cat 1 
 faith, he wrote to Leander, Bishop of Seville, exh<*; 
 him to see that the king proved himself, by his works, a 
 true citizen of the eternal kingdom. 
 
 He earnestly pressed on all, clergy and laity, the study 
 of the Bible. He said the sacred words should, by con- 
 tinual intercourse, penetrate into our being. " We must 
 
 ve through the Spirit in reading what, when occa- 
 sion serves, we must prove in suffering." He himself 
 must have found the Scriptures his counsellor; for he 
 writes, " God does not answer individual minds by special 
 voices, but he has so arranged His Word as to answer all 
 questions thereby. The answer, ■ My grace is sufficient 
 for thee,' was given to Paul that it need not be particu- 
 larly repeated to each one of us. God does not now an- 
 swer us by angelic ministrations or special prophetic 
 voices, because the Holy Scriptures include all that is 
 necessary to meet individual cases, and are constructed so 
 as to mould the life of later times by the example of the 
 earlier." He believed, also, that the further Christian men 
 advance in the divine life the deeper insight do they gain 
 into their own un worthiness. " For every one," he writes, 
 " is revealed to himself when he becomes enlightened by 
 contact with the true light. In learning what holiness is, 
 he learns also what guilt is." His heart and judgment 
 were against persecution; and although, in the case of 
 heretics, he sometimes recommended very strong con- 
 
124 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 straint, he especially and repeatedly defended the Jews 
 against fanatical oppression. It is pleasant to think that 
 the man who could speak and live words like the follow- 
 ing is the author of the hymn to the Holy Spirit, pre- 
 served alone of all the ancient metrical hymns in our 
 Church services : — 
 
 " Oh what a consummate artist is the Spirit ! No sooner 
 does He touch the soul than His touch is itself a teaching; 
 for at one and the same time He enlightens and converts 
 the human heart; it suddenly turns stranger to what it 
 was, and becomes what it was not." 
 
 The work of his with which his name is most fre- 
 quently associated, if we except the mission of Augustine 
 to Canterbury, is the improvement or introduction of the 
 Church music known as Gregorian. He is said to have 
 collected the ancient melodies, both of the East and West, 
 and so combined, or so introduced them, that his name is 
 as closely associated with them as that of St Ambrose with 
 the psalmody of the Western Church. 
 
 So much of the faith which, united to the source of 
 life, worketh by love, dwelt in the heart and shone in the 
 life of Gregory the Great, Bishop of Rome; so much of 
 the truth which inspired St Paul and set Augustine free, 
 actuated him. 
 
 Of Augustine's writings he was a diligent student, and 
 was, Neander says, " the great means of transmitting the 
 truths they contained to later times." But Gregory was 
 no inspired man, and much of the dark local colouring of 
 his times, as well as much of the pure light of Heaven, is 
 mirrored in his life. An earthly order of priests, invoca- 
 tion of saints, an elaborate ceremonial, were also part of 
 
AM • T! in VENERABLE BEDS, 125 
 
 ved ; and since all error is of the nature of darkness, 
 to the extent these prevailed within him the joyful light 
 was absent. 
 
 Such a belief as he had in the efficacy of external rites, 
 in the eucharist as a purifying sacrifice, in the power of 
 the invocation of saints, the mediation of a human priest- 
 hood, the protection of relics, and the sanctity of monas- 
 ticism, could scarcely exist in any mind without lessening 
 the joy which the truth he did believe should have given 
 hi in. And we find that it was so. The shadow of the 
 false system which was slowly rising out of the depths lay 
 on his present peace and his future hopes. To Gregoria, 
 a lady of the imperial court, who had written to him to 
 say that she could have no peace until Gregory would 
 assure her, by a special revelation, that her sins were for- 
 given, he replied, that the thing she asked was both diffi- 
 cult and unprofitable ; difficult, because he was unworthy 
 of a special revelation, and unprofitable, because it was 
 not till the last day of her life, when no more time was 
 left to weep over her sins, she ought to have the assurance 
 they were forgiven. Till then, distrustful of herself, 
 trembling for herself, she should always fear on account 
 of her sins, and seek to cleanse herself from them by daily 
 tears. Different, indeed, from the Saviour's "Go in 
 peace;" St Paul's " Being justified by faith, we have peace 
 with God;" St John's " These things have I written unto 
 you that believe on the name of the Son of God, that ye 
 may know that ye have eternal life." And further still 
 the shadow of these errors was projected, even beyond 
 death ; till in its baleful presence the sleep in Jesus was 
 transformed into the writhings in the fire of plirgatory. 
 
126 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 The faith must have been real and strong which, whilst 
 such errors were thronging round, pierced through them 
 all, and received life from touching Jesus. But, on the 
 other hand, the falsehoods which could thus darken such 
 faith are no mean foes for us to have been delivered from. 
 Need there is, therefore, all the more, for each one of us, 
 in this misty world, amid the many dangers which sur- 
 round us, to recall Gregory's hymn — 
 
 VENI, CREATOR SPIRITUS. 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, 
 And lighten with celestial fire. 
 
 Thou the anointing Spirit art, 
 
 Who dost Thy seven-fold gifts impart. 
 
 Thy blessed Unction from above, 
 Is comfort, life, and fire of love. 
 
 Enable with perpetual light 
 The dulness of our blinded sight. 
 
 Anoint and cheer our soiled face 
 "With the abundance of Thy grace. 
 
 Keep far our foes, give peace at home : 
 Where Thou art guide, no ill can come. 
 
 Teach us to know the Father, Son, 
 And Thee, of both, to be but One, 
 
 That, through the ages all along, 
 This may be our endless song ; 
 
 Praise to Thine eternal merit, 
 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! 
 
 About the time of the birth of Gregory the Great at 
 
\ ! \i ;: vi ■: r. HBt 
 
 Borne, Venantius Fortunatus bad reached his twenti. h 
 year in the north of Italy. The two men might serve as 
 specimens of the reverse sides of monastic Ufa I 
 Gregory, Fortunatus spent his early and middle 
 among the laity, not,. indeed, in laborious civil offices, 
 but in a gay, literary idleness. Among the last of the 
 Latin verse writers, or among the first of the troubadours, 
 he wandered from castle to palace until he paused at the 
 bridal of Sigebert, first king of Australia, and wrote liis 
 epithalamium. Welcome everywhere, entering into the 
 family festivities of his hosts, and celebrating courtly 
 marriages and festivals, with easy verses, a light, d 
 
 . kindly nature, liberally endowed with the faculty 
 of enjoying, he seems to have been a child of the South 
 in his capacity for the dolce far niente rather than in 
 the stormy passions which often flash and sweep so sud- 
 denly over those sunny southern natures. With a heart 
 that could lie still, and find its life in reflecting the life of 
 others, he appears to have passed safely through the 
 temptations of courtly revellers and dangerous intimacies, 
 like a glass mirror, coloured and illuminated by every 
 passing event, and ruffled by none. We only hear of one 
 very close intimacy of his, and that was with Queen 
 Rhadegunda, the wife of Clotaire. This lady was, at the 
 time of this friendship, separated from her husband, and 
 her influence over Fortunatus was so great as entirely to 
 turn at least the outward current of his life. After 
 becoming acquainted with her, he was consecrated a priest* 
 and was made almoner of a monastery at Tours, which 
 she had founded, and where she resided. Not a shadow 
 of scandal has, however, been thrown over this intimacy 
 
128 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 by French historians, in other cases not remarkable for 
 the charity which thinketh no evil. 
 
 Fortunatus seems to have continued the same easy, 
 light-hearted, contented being as before his adopting the 
 religious habit. The twenty-seven poems which he ad- 
 dressed to Saint Rhadegunda and the Abbess Agnes were 
 inspired neither by their beauty nor their virtues, but by 
 their sweetmeats and their fruits. Saint Rhadegunda 
 sends him some milk, and he writes to her, " In the midst 
 of my fasts" (fasts which, from his own account, seem to 
 have been rather medicinal than penitential) " you send 
 me various dishes, and with the sight you put my mind 
 to torture. My eyes contemplate what the physician 
 forbids, and his hand interdicts what my mouth desires. 
 "When, however, your goodness gratifies us with this milk, 
 your gifts surpass those of kings. Rejoice, then, I pray, 
 like a good . sister, with our pious mother, for at this 
 moment I enjoy the sweet pleasure of being at table." 
 
 At the same time, Fortunatus has written three hymns 
 which have taken root in the heart of Christendom, and 
 have been chanted, often doubtless with deep and solemn 
 feeling, during many centuries — the " Yexilla regis pro- 
 deunt," the " Pange lingua gloriosi prcelium certaminis," 
 and the " Salve festa dies." These verses are indeed not 
 free from a fanciful imagery far removed from the deep 
 and simple earnestness of the Ambrosian hymns. The 
 little elegancies of literary retirement play about them ; 
 the silver trappings of legend and fancy make music 
 round them as they go. Compared with those grand old 
 sacred battle-songs, they have too much of the glitter of 
 the tournament on them. Yet, beneath all this, they have 
 
a tender and solemn y 1, compared witli some 
 
 similar compositions of ] . simple and true. . 
 
 Of the outer life of Fortunatus we know nothing 
 except on its lighter side; of his spiritual life we know 
 nothing, except through his hymns. The intermediate 
 tones are wanting in the picture, and necessarily the 
 effect is jarring. Yet, why should we believe his hymns 
 to be unreal ? If all records of the life of Cowper had 
 perished except " John Gilpin," " Lines on the Receipt of 
 a Hamper,*' and some playful letters to Lady Austin on 
 the one side, and on the other his beautiful hymn, 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way," 
 might we not have some difficulty in reconciling the 
 ents ? Yet, we know that Cowper's piety was as 
 genuine as his playfulness; and if the piety of Fortunatus 
 was less simple, and his playfulness less graceful, we must 
 remember that he was a monk, and lived before the 
 Reformation. No healthy fireside influences were around 
 him, to draw him continually out of self by the mutual 
 kindnesses and forbearances of home life ; no family affec- 
 tions, binding youth to age in happy unity ; no old age, 
 green with memories of early unbroken love — not even 
 Mrs Un win and Lady Hesketh, the tea-table, the sofa, and 
 the hares. Abbesses and canonised saints were the sharers 
 of Fortunatus' harmless pleasantries; and we must not 
 wonder if the pleasantries were more artificial, and the 
 feelings from which they were the rebound less real 
 
 At all events, the four hymns by Fortunatus which 
 follow have been the channels of the devotions of cen- 
 turies, and it is chiefly on this account that their trans- 
 lation has been here attempted :— 
 
130 GREGORY THE GREAT, VEXANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 CRUX BENEDICTA NITET DC-MINUS QUA CARNE PEPENDIT. 
 
 The blessed Cross shines now to us where once the Saviour 
 
 bled, 
 Love made Him victim there for us, and there His blood was 
 
 shed. 
 
 And with His wounds our wounds He heal'd, and wash'd our 
 
 sins away, 
 And rescued from the raging wolf the lost and helpless prey. 
 
 There, with transfixed palms, He hung, and saved the world 
 
 from loss ; 
 And closed the bitter way of death by dying on the Cross ! 
 
 Those hands were pierced with cruel nails, fix'd till His dying 
 
 breath — 
 The hand that rescued Paul from crime, and Peter once from 
 
 death ! 
 
 rich and fruitful branches ! O sweet and noble Tree ! 
 What new and precious fruit hangs for the world on Thee, 
 
 Whose fragrance breathes the breath of life into the silent 
 
 dead, — 
 Gives life to those from whom, long since, earth's pleasant light 
 
 had fled ! 
 
 No summer heat has power to scorch who in thy shadow rest; 
 No moonlight chill can harm at night, no burning noon molest. 
 
 Planted beside the water-flood, unshaken is thy root ; 
 
 Thy branch shall never fade, and in all seasons be thy fruit : 
 
 For round thine arms entwining is the true and living Vine, 
 And from that blood-stain'd stem distils the new and heavenly 
 wine! 
 
AND THE VEN! IE. 
 
 VEXILLA REGIS PRODEl 
 
 The Banner of the lyng goes forth, 
 The Cross, the radiant mystery, 
 o, in a frame of human birth, 
 Man's Maker suffers on the Tree. 
 
 Fix'd with the fatal nails to death, 
 
 "With outstretch'd hands and piercdd feet ; 
 
 Here the pure V Idl J I is breath, 
 
 That our redemption be complete. 
 
 And ere had closed that mournful day, 
 
 They wounded with the spear His side : 
 That he might wash our sins away, 
 
 1 >lood pour'd forth its crimson tide ! 
 
 The truth that David learn'd to sing, 
 Its deep fulfilment here attains : 
 
 ■ Tell all the earth the Lord is King !" 
 Lo ! from the Cross, a King He reigns. 
 
 O most elect and pleasant Tree, 
 Chosen such sacred limbs to bear, 
 
 A royal purple clotheth thee — 
 The purple of His blood is there 1 
 
 Blest on whose arms, in woe sublime, 
 
 The Ransom of the ages lay, 
 Outweighing all the sins of Time, 
 
 Despoiling Satan of his prey. 
 
 A fragrance from thy bark distils 
 Surpassing heavenly nectar far ; 
 
 The noblest fruit thy branches fills, 
 Weapon of the victorious war. 
 
132 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 Hail altar, Victim hail once more ! 
 
 That glorious Passion be adored ! 
 Since death the Life Himself thus bore, 
 
 And by that death our life restored ! 
 
 There is certainly a great contrast between the view 
 taken in these hymns of the Cross itself, as the instru- 
 ment of the Passion, and that taken in the earlier hymns 
 and in the New Testament. In the Bible it is called the 
 accursed tree. In the earlier Christian hymns it is more 
 than once spoken of as the patibulum* — the gallows — and 
 viewed with horror, as the instrument of the humiliation 
 and torture of the Lord. This feeling is surely the 
 deeper, implying a more real comprehension of the cost 
 at which we were redeemed. In later days, when the 
 cross ceased to be known as an instrument of torture, and 
 was regarded only as a sacred symbol, the glory of the 
 victory there won was reflected back on it, and it was 
 honoured as a warrior might honour his sword, or an old 
 Yiking his bark, though with a more solemn and reverent 
 emotion, as the weapon of the Great Victory. From this, 
 superstition descended to far lower depths, till the sup- 
 posed wood of the Cross was worshipped. It is a signi- 
 ficant fact that the last two verses of the hymn of Fortu- 
 natus here translated, are, in the Roman Breviary, re- 
 placed by these words : — " Hail, Cross, only hope in this 
 season of the Passion! give to the pious justice, to the 
 guilty give pardon." 
 
 In the following hymn this sentimental honouring of 
 the Cross is carried yet further than in the two preceding 
 hymns. The second and third verses probably refer to a 
 
 * Translated usually in this volume, w accursed, or shameful tree." 
 
AND Tin: TUDABU HKDE. 133 
 
 legend current in the middle ages, which ran thus : — When 
 A dam died, Seth obtained from the guardian cherubim of 
 Paradise a branch of the tree from which Eve ate the for- 
 bidden fruit This he planted on Golgotha, called the 
 place of a skull, because Adam was buried there. From 
 this tree, as the ages rolled on, were made the ark of the 
 testimony, the pole on which the brazen serpent was lifted 
 up, and other instruments j and from its wood at length, 
 then growing old and hard, was made the Cross. And 
 thus from the tree of death sprang the tree of life. — As 
 an allegory the story is beautiful, and although the fei 
 of the following hymn may be less genuine than that of 
 some others, the homage is surely not yet transferred from 
 the Crucified to the Cross. The light which gilds the 
 tree of death still seems to flow from Him who suffered 
 there : — 
 
 PANGE LINGUA GL0RI08I PR02LIUM CERTAMDJIS. 
 
 Spread, my tongue, the wondrous story of the glorious battle 
 
 far, 
 What the trophies and the triumphs of the Cross of Jesus 
 
 are, 
 How the Victim, immolated, vanquish'd in that mighty war. 
 
 Pitying did the great Redeemer Adam's fall and ruin see, 
 Sentenced then to death by tasting fruit of the forbidden tree, 
 And he mark'd that wood the weapon of redeeming love to 
 be. 
 
 Thus the scheme of our redemption was of old in order laid, 
 Thus the wily arts were baffled of the foe who man betray 'd, 
 And the armour of redemption from Death's armoury was 
 made. 
 
131 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 When the promised sacred fulness of the times at length was 
 
 come, 
 From the bosom of the Father, from the royal heavenly home, 
 Came to earth the world's Creator, offspring of the Virgin's 
 
 womb ! 
 
 Laid an infant in the manger, in the stable poor and dim, 
 Wrapp'd in swaddling-clothes enfolding every helpless infant 
 
 limb, 
 Thus the blessed Virgin Mother mother's care bestow'd on 
 
 Him, 
 
 Till the thirty years were finish'd, when the sacrifice should be : 
 Born for this, for this prepared, He gave Himself an off 'ring 
 
 free, 
 On the Cross the Lamb was lifted, immolated on the tree. 
 
 Thorns and vinegar and gall, nails and spear and bitter rood, 
 Thus His sacred limbs were wounded, thus He shed that stream 
 
 of blood, 
 Earth and ocean, stars and all things, cleansing in its precious 
 
 flood! 
 
 Faithful Cross ! of all earth's produce only rich and noble tree, 
 No such flower, or leaf, or fruitage, we in all the world can see ; 
 Sweet to us thy wood and nails, for sweetest weight is hung 
 on thee. 
 
 Bend thy branches, lofty Tree, and, yielding, let thine arms 
 
 extend, 
 Let the rigour of thy nature, soften'd, tenderly unbend, 
 Since the King of kings Eternal on thine arms they thus sus- 
 pend. 
 
 Thou alone wast meet the Ransom of the ages thus to bear, 
 And for all the shipwreck'd world a port of refuge to prepare, 
 With that sacred blood anointed of the Lamb shed freely there. 
 
KRABLE BEDE. 181 
 
 From a poem of Fortunatus, wbick Pan most 
 
 sweet," " in wlm-h," he says, "the poet speaks of nature, 
 
 born again in the spring-time, as welcoming Christ risen 
 
 t he dead," the following ten verses were extracted, and 
 
 have been sung for ten centuries as an Easter hymn : — 
 
 SALVE FESTA DIES TOTO VENERABILIS M\0. 
 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high, 
 On which God conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky, 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 See the fresh beauty of the new-born earth, 
 As with the Lord, His gifts anew come forth, 
 
 Since God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 Christ, after suffering, vanquish'd Satan's powers, 
 Thus dons the grove its leaves, the grass its flowers ; 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 He burst the bands of hell, through heaven ascending. 
 Sea, earth, and sky, to God their hymns are sending, 
 
 Since God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 The Crucified reigns God for evermore, 
 All creatures their Creator now adore ; 
 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 The changing months, the pleasant light of days, 
 The shining hours, the rippling moments praise, 
 
 Since God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky, 
 
 Christ, Maker and Redeemer— Health of all — 
 Only begotten Son — on Thee we call ; 
 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
136 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 Thou, seeing man sunk in the depths forlorn, 
 To rescue man, Thyself as man wast born ; 
 
 For God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 Author of Life ! Death's garments round Thee lay ; 
 To save the lost, Thou treadest Death's dark way ; 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 Let Faith to the sure promise lift her eyes ; 
 The third day dawns, Arise, my Buried ! rise, 
 
 For God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 From hell's imprison'd shades strike off the chain, 
 And those who perish from the depths regain. 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 Bring back Thy face, that all its light may see, 
 Bring back the Day, which died to us with Thee, 
 
 Since God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 Countless the hosts Thou savest from the dead ; 
 They follow free where Thou, their Lord, hast led. 
 Hail, festal day ! ever exalted high. 
 
 Taking Thy flesh again, to heaven Thou farest ; 
 Mighty in battle, glorious spoils Thou bearest, 
 
 For God hath conquer'd hell, and rules the starry sky. 
 
 These are the four best known hymns of the Italian 
 Venantius Fortunatus, one of the last poets to whom 
 Latin was a mother tongue. After the death of Queen 
 Rhadegunda, he was made Bishop of Poictiers, and died 
 about the close of the sixth century. 
 
 The Venerable Bede, the third hymn writer of the 
 period, was far more essentially a monk than either Gre- 
 
AM HRABLE BEDK. 
 
 gory or Fortuuatus, although reflecting the brightest side 
 q| monastic life — its devout tranquillity and studious 
 retirement Born at Wearmouth, near Durham, 
 brought at seven years old to a monastery near his birth- 
 place, all his early associations must have been oi 
 monastery, not of the home. Study his labour, books 
 his world, letters the incidents of his life, from the 
 when iu his youth he removed to the monastery of 
 Yarrow, at the mouth of the Tyne, not an evr 
 recorded as breaking the quiet flow of his days. There he 
 read, wrote, and prayed, and sang hymns to his Saxon 
 harp, and recorded the history of his people, and corre- 
 sponded with friends in all parts of England and Europe; 
 and there, as the last work of his busy, tranquil 
 he translated the Gospel of John into Anglo-Saxon, 
 finishing it amidst the sufferings of his last illness, and 
 dying just as he had concluded the last chapter. He 
 says of himself, "I have used all diligence in the study of 
 the Holy Scriptures, and in the observance of the con- 
 ventual rules and the daily singing in the church ; it was 
 my joy either to learn, or to teach, or to write some- 
 thing." Hit* monastic retirement was no idle seclusion : 
 he was at once the historian and the teacher of his times. 
 England, though vexed with many storms of her 
 own, was in those days little agitated by the tempests 
 which disturbed the Continent Since the days v 
 Gregory the Great had sent Augustine to Kent, an eager 
 desire for learning had sprung up among the Anglo- 
 Saxons, and many crossed the sea to seek instruction 
 from the Irish monks, who then dwelt apart in an island 
 of peace — floods of Gothic and Saracen invasion rolling 
 
138 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 by in the distance. From the East also, from the father- 
 land of St Paul, ere the old fountain was quite dried up, a 
 teacher came to England. Theodore of Cilicia was ap- 
 pointed Archbishop of Canterbury, and he made progresses 
 through the country to teach all who would learn. Bede 
 collected these instructions, and treasured them up for his 
 nation. He was surrounded by scholars who revered him 
 and kept by him to the last. From one of these, Cuth- 
 bert, Neander (in his "Denkwiirdigkeiten des christlichen 
 Lebens,") extracts the following account of his deathbed, 
 interesting to us both as a proof of the simplicity of his 
 faith, and as an illustration of the hold the ancient hymns 
 had on the hearts of Christian men of his time. Cuthbert 
 mentions how Bede passed the last weeks of his life, in a 
 sickness which brought him to the grave a.d. 785, in his 
 sixty-third year. The scholar writes, " He lived joyfully, 
 giving thanks to God day and night, yea at all hours, 
 until the Feast of the Ascension; every day he gave 
 lessons to us his pupils, and the rest of his time he occu- 
 pied in chanting psalms. He was awake almost the whole 
 night, and spent it in joy and thanksgiving ; and when he 
 awoke from his short sleep, immediately he raised his hands 
 on high, and began again to give thanks. He sang the 
 words of the Apostle Paul, ' It is a dreadful thing to fall 
 into the hands of the living God.' He sang much besides 
 from the Holy Scriptures, and also many Anglo-Saxon 
 hymns. He sang antiphons, according to his and our 
 custom (the ancient custom which Ambrose had intro- 
 duced among the people from the East), and among others 
 this one, 'O King of Glory, Lord of power ! who this day 
 didst ascend a victor above all the heavens, leave us not 
 
and Tin: rmsABia hm 139 
 
 iee, but send to us the promised B 
 of the Father. Hallelujah !' And when he came to the 
 words, ■ leave us not oqdianed behind Tlnv.' lie burst into 
 tears. Theu in an boor he began to sing again. Wfl 
 
 with him ; sometimes we read, sometimes we i 
 hut we could not read without tears. Often -would he 
 thank God for sending him this sickness, and often would! 
 be say, 'God chastem th the son whom He loveth.' I I 
 too, would he repeat these words of St Ambrose, i I have 
 
 lived so that I should be ashamed to live amongst 
 you ; yet neither do I fear to die, for we have a good Lord.* 
 Besides the lessons which he gave us, and his psalm 
 
 luring those days, he composed two important works 
 — I translation of the Gospel of St John into our i. 
 tongue, for the use of the Church, and Extracts foam 
 
 re of Seville; for he said, 'I would not that my 
 pupils should read what is false, and after my death should 
 labour in vain.' On the Tuesday morning before Ascen- 
 sion-day, his si« kness increased, his breathing became 
 difficult, and his feet began to swell. Yet he passed the 
 whole day joyfully, dictatiug. At times he would say, 
 1 Make haste to learn, for I do not know how long I shall 
 remain with you, or whether my Creator will not soon take 
 me to Himself The following night he spent in prayers 
 of thanksgiving. And when Wednesday dawned he de- 
 sired us diligently to continue writing what we had begun. 
 When this was finished, we carried the relics in procession, 
 as is customary on that day. One of us then said to him, 
 1 Dearest master, we have yet oue chapter to translate : 
 will it be grievous to thee if we ask thee any furth 
 He answered, ' It is quite easy ; take the pen and write 
 
140 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FOETUNATUS, 
 
 quickly.' At three o'clock he said to me, ' Run quickly- 
 arid call the priests of this convent to me, that I may 
 impart to them the gift which God has given me.' Then 
 he begged every one of them to offer masses and to pray 
 for him. They all wept, chiefly for that he said that in 
 this world they should see his face no more. But they 
 rejoiced in that he said, ' I go to my Creator ; ,1 have lived 
 long enough ; the time of my departure is at hand, for I 
 long to depart and be with Christ.' Thus did he live on 
 till the evening. Then that scholar said to him, ' Dearest 
 master, there is only one thought left to write.' He 
 answered, 'Write quickly.' Soon that scholar replied, 
 ' Now this thought also is written.' He answered, ' Thou 
 hast well said. It is finished. Raise my head in thy 
 hand, for it will do me good to sit opposite my sanctuary, 
 where I was wont to kneel down to pray, that sitting I 
 may call upon my Father.' So he seated himself on the 
 ground in his cell, and sang the ' Glory to Thee, O God, 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; ' and when he had named 
 the Holy Ghost, he breathed his last breath." 
 
 Such was the calm of a Christian's deathbed in Eng- 
 land eleven hundred years ago. 
 
 The longest of the Venerable Bede's hymns is a com- 
 parison of the six days of creation with six ages of the 
 world ; the sixth day, in which Adam was created, corre- 
 sponding to the sixth age, in which " He by whom man 
 was created Himself became man," — when, as Eve was 
 formed out of the side of the sleeping Adam, the bride of 
 Christ also was raised to life through Him who slept in 
 death upon the Cross. The seventh age was, Bede be- 
 lieved, to be the age of quietness, when Christ shall com- 
 
ANn I -DE. Ill 
 
 mand the Sabbath, and keep it with His own; and the 
 eighth age is t<> all the ages, when tin- 
 
 dead of the earth shall arise, ami the just shall see for 
 ever the face of Christ, and be like the angels on the 
 heavenly heights." Two other hymns, attributed to Bede 
 by Daniel, may be translated at length : — 
 
 OX THE ASCEN8I0N OF THE LORD. 
 ( II y m nu,, I glories. ) 
 
 A hymn of glory let us sing ; 
 
 New hymns throughout the world shall ring ; 
 
 By a new way none ever trod, 
 
 Christ mounteth to-the throne of God. 
 
 The apostles on the mountain stand — 
 The mystic mount — in Holy Land ; 
 They, with the Virgin-mother, see 
 Jesus ascend in majesty. 
 
 The angels say to the eleven, 
 " Why stand ye gazing into heaven ? 
 This is the Saviour — this is He ! 
 Jesus hath triumphed gloriously I" 
 
 They'said the Lord should come again, 
 As these beheld Him rising then, 
 Calm soaring through the radiant sky, 
 Mounting its dazzling summits high. 
 
 May our affections thither tend, 
 And thither constantly ascend, 
 Where, seated on the Father's throne, 
 Thee reigning in the heavens we own ! 
 
 Be Thou our present joy, Lord, 
 Who wilt be ever our reward ; 
 
142 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS, 
 
 And as the countless ages flee 
 May all our glory be in Thee ! 
 
 OX THE INNOCENTS. 
 
 {blymnum canentes martyrum') 
 A hymn of martyrs let us sing, 
 The innocents remembering, 
 Of whom in tears was earth bereaved, 
 But heaven with songs of joy received ; 
 
 Whose angels through eternity 
 The heavenly Father's face shall see, 
 And to His grace their praises bring — 
 A hymn of martyrs let us sing. 
 
 The following was known to Bede, and as such may 
 have a peculiar interest, besides its general value as shew- 
 ing the way in which the judgment-day was pictured to 
 the Christians of his time : — 
 
 ON THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 Suddenly to all appearing the great day of God shall come, 
 As a thief at darkest midnight on an unsuspecting home ; 
 Brief, indeed, shall all the glory of this age be seen to be, 
 When the world and all things in it shall have vanish'd visibly. 
 Then the clangour of the trumpet, sounding clear from depth 
 
 to height, 
 All the dead and all the living to Christ's judgment-seat shall 
 
 cite ; 
 Dazzling in majestic glory shall the Judge from heaven 
 
 descend, 
 And the radiant hosts of angels worshipping on Him attend. 
 Blood-red then the moon's soft lustre, and the sun grows dark 
 
 on high ; 
 Earth from end to end shall tremble, pale stars falling from 
 
 the sky ; 
 
Ill I VENER A BLE BEDE. 143 
 
 •le, before the presence of that justcst Judge outpoi 
 Flames of fire the earth and heavens and the ocean's depths 
 devouring. 
 
 On 1 1 is throne, sublime enthroned, shall the King of Glory sit, 
 Dreadful hosts of mighty angels terribly surrounding it, 
 
 l right hand then the angels the elect of men shall 
 
 gather ; 
 
 (1, on the left hand, trembling, herd like goats 
 
 together. 
 * Come, ye blessed," He will say, "and enter on the kingdom 
 
 fair, 
 By the Father's love prepared for you, ere the ages were. 
 Ye who with a brother's kindness succour'd Me, distress'd 
 
 poor, 
 Rich with everlasting riches, reap love's guerdon evermore." 
 The redeem 'd with joy exclaiming, ask Him, " When, Christ 
 
 our King, 
 Did we see Thee poor and needy, and to Thee our succour 
 
 bring!" 
 Then that Mighty Judge shall answer, u When in your 
 
 humility, 
 On the needy home and raiment ye bestow'd, ye gave it me." 
 
 will He the bitter sentence of the wicked long delay, 
 The " Depart from me, ye cursed, from my presence far away ; 
 Me, imploring aid and pity, have ye scornfully rejected ; 
 Naked; gave to me no clothing ; sick and poor, my woes 
 
 neglected." 
 Then the wicked cry, astonished, " When, great and glorious 
 
 King, 
 Did we see Thee sick and needy, and to Thee no succour bring ?" 
 And that mighty Judge shall answer, "When ye, in your 
 
 luxury, 
 To the poor refused your aid and pity, ye refused it Me." 
 
144 GREGORY THE GREAT, VENA.NTIUS FORTUNATUS, ETC. 
 
 Backward, then, the wicked rushing, plunge into the quench- 
 less fire, 
 
 Where the worm shall never perish, nor the raging flame 
 expire ; 
 
 "Where the dark infernal prison Satan with his slaves is 
 keeping, 
 
 Where they gnash their teeth in anguish, where are ceaseless 
 groans and weeping. 
 
 But the faithful to the heavenly country are upborne on high, 
 'Mid the band of happy angels in the kingdom of the sky, 
 To Jerusalem Celestial blessed citizens they come, 
 u Vision" true " of peace " unfading, and their bright un- 
 changing home, 
 Where the multitudes unnumber'd gaze on Christ the King 
 
 divine : 
 See Him with the Father's glory evermore resplendent shine. 
 
 Wherefore all the wiles and malice of the ancient serpent flee, 
 Gold and luxury and weakness, if ye in that home would be ; 
 Be with purity engirded, as a radiant zone complete, 
 Let your lamps be brightly shining, and go forth the King to 
 meet. 
 
ST BERNARD. 145 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ST BERNARD. 
 
 Never was there a biography which more fully mirrored 
 the history of the age, and at the same time more truly 
 reflected the light common to all ages and all hearts, 
 than that of Bernard of Clairvaux. The local and the 
 sky colour are wonderfully blended in it. It is at once 
 essentially mediaeval and deeply human; it is probably 
 the one because it is the other. Bernard was no con- 
 templative philosopher enthroned on high above the per- 
 plexities and conflicts, the sympathies and errors of his 
 time. He was a man mingling freely with his fellow- 
 men, not beckoning them up to him, but leading them on 
 with him, and pressing on with them — often, indeed, 
 sharing their mistakes, but oftener drawing them onward 
 and upward with himself, by the common attraction of 
 that adored Saviour and Son of man, whose character 
 and whose redeeming love were so deeply engraven on 
 his heart. ^ 
 
 He was born A.D. 1091, at Fontaines, near Dijon, of a 
 knightly family. His early training was received, not 
 from monks, but from his mother, the Lady Aletta; and 
 its influence seems to have remained on him through his 
 
 K 
 
146 ST BERNARD. 
 
 life, so that his monastery had much of the nature of a 
 home. His childhood was spent among his father's vine- 
 yards and corn-fields in Burgundy, with five brothers and 
 one sister for his playmates, and a mother's eyes watching 
 them all. The six brothers were once more united in 
 after life under the roof of one monastery. 
 
 His mother had consecrated him from the first to God. 
 In his early youth he was sent to the cathedral school of 
 Chatillon-sur-Seine, where he received a learned educa- 
 tion, and acquired Latin enough to preach extempore in 
 that language with ease, and write Latin hymns as heart- 
 felt and unconstrained as if they had been spoken in his 
 own mother-tongue. 
 
 Aletta had always prayed that Bernard might become 
 a monk. Much of her own life was spent in visiting the 
 poor around her, succouring the many sufferers by the 
 petty wars of those lawless times, and ministering to the 
 wants of the clergy. Six months after Bernard's return 
 from the school at Chatillon, the festival of St Ambrose 
 occurred, on which Aletta had always been accustomed 
 to prepare a feast for the neighbouring clergy. Her 
 health had long been failing, but nevertheless she con- 
 trived to make her usual hospitable preparations, and 
 carried on her ordinary avocations until the day arrived. 
 Then she was too weak to leave her bed, but she insisted 
 on the festivities being continued ; and, when the repast 
 she had prepared but could not share was over, she re- 
 quested that the "ministers of the Lord" would visit her 
 in her room. They found her strength almost exhausted, 
 and, at her request, recited in chorus the " Litany of the 
 Dying." She followed them with her failing voice to the 
 
\ ERSI0N OF 8T BERNARD. 1 i 7 
 
 words, "By Thy Cross and Passion, Good Lord, deliver 
 us ;" and then, signing the cross on her breast, she sank 
 back and ceased to breathe. 
 
 Such a deathbed, and such quiet perseverance in loving 
 services to the last, sealed his mother's vows and early 
 teaching on Bernard's heart. We cannot wonder that 
 his recollections of her beloved form and voice, at length, 
 one day embodied themselves so vividly to his sense, that 
 he paused on a journey to join his eldest brother (then 
 besieging a neighbouring castle), and, entering a roadside 
 church, knelt before the altar, and vowed at once to fulfil 
 his mother's vow. 
 
 This, in his own opinion, was the turning-point in his 
 life — his conversion from the world to God. Of that 
 divine object which thenceforward possessed his heart, 
 and renewed his whole nature, he himself speaks thus in 
 one of his sermons on the Canticles :* — " From the very 
 beginning of my conversion, my brethren, feeling my own 
 deficiency in virtue, I appropriated to myself this nose- 
 gay of myrrh, composed of all the pains and sufferings of 
 my Saviour, of the privations to which He submitted in 
 His childhood, the labours that He endured in His preach- 
 ing, the fatigue that He underwent in His journeyinga, of 
 His watchings in prayer, His temptations in fasting, His 
 tears of compassion, of the snares that were laid for Him 
 in His words, of His perils among false brethren, of the 
 outrages, the spitting, the smiting, the mocking, the 
 insults, the nails — in a word, of all the grief of all kinds 
 that He submitted to for the salvation of man. I have 
 discovered that wisdom consists in meditating on those 
 • See Neanders " Liie of St Bernard." 
 
148 ST BERNARD. 
 
 things, and that in them alone is the perfection of righte- 
 ousness, the plenitude of knowledge, the riches of salvation, 
 and the abundance of merit. In these contemplations 
 I find relief from sadness, moderation in success, and 
 safety in the royal highway of this life, so that I march 
 on between the good and evil, scattering on either side 
 the perils by which I am menaced. This is the reason 
 why I have always these things in my mouth, as you 
 know, and always in my heart, as God knoweth \ they are 
 habitually occurring in my writings, as every one may 
 see, and my most sublime philosophy is to know Jesus 
 Christ and Him crucified." 
 
 With such an ideal before him, which, indeed, is no 
 ideal, but fact and truth, " perfect God and perfect man," 
 Bernard could not stoop to any created being as the model 
 of his life or the worship of his heart, and he did not. Medi- 
 aeval as he was, with an imagination luxuriant to excess, he 
 opposed himself decidedly to the institution of a feast in 
 honour of the immaculate conception of Mary, and said, 
 in reference to it, " We ought not to attribute to Mary 
 that which belongs to one Being alone, to Him who can 
 make all holy, and being Himself free from sin, purify 
 others from it. Besides Him, all who have descended 
 from Adam must say of themselves that which one of 
 them says in the name of all, 'In sin did my mother 
 conceive me.'" He did, indeed, believe Maiy to have 
 been preserved by grace from all sin; but the interval 
 between such an opinion, however baseless, and the asser- 
 tion of her absolute inherent sinlessness is wide indeed. 
 
 Having chosen to be a monk, Bernard, by the neces- 
 sity of his ardent nature, chose also the strictest of the 
 
THK UHR OK CI.AIKVAUX. 149 
 
 monastic orders, and became at first ascetic to the utmost 
 limits of human endurance. He afterwards regretted 
 the bodily infirmities which these austerities had brought 
 on him, and warned others against them. But Bernard's 
 was the kind of character which learns by trying rather 
 than by copying. 
 
 After spending some time in the severest convent of 
 his age, that of Stephen Harding, at Citeaux, at the age 
 of twenty-five Bernard was chosen leader of twelve m 
 who were sent to found a new monastery. 
 
 The site of this new Abbey was, when they reached it, 
 called the Valley of Wormwood, surrounded by pathless 
 forests, untilled, uncleared, a haunt of banditti ; and it 
 was not until after many months of hard manual labour 
 that Bernard and his monks wrung even their daily bread 
 from the stony soil, or contrived any shelter for themselves 
 from the weather. During their work, they were silent 
 or sang hymns in chorus ; and, as they thus toiled and 
 praised God, many who passed by felt the solemn influence 
 of their devotions and industry ; the new Abbey rose to 
 the sound of sacred song, and in time the Valley of 
 A-Ymiuwood was transformed into the bright Valley of 
 Clairvaux. This was henceforth Bernard's home, and 
 here, as in the father's house of their childhood, his five 
 brothers, and at length his aged father, were again united 
 under one roof. 
 
 Many of the fine old forest trees still remained, and 
 Bernard said that the beeches and oaks were often his 
 teachers, and that he had frequently learned more from 
 trees and rocks than from books. His favourite oratory 
 was a quiet bower, twined with flowers, in a recess of 
 
150 ST BERNARD 
 
 the valley ; and there perhaps he wrote, and certainly he 
 sang in his heart, his hymns to Christ. His asceticism 
 did not at all events make him forget that nature was the 
 handiwork of his Father, and her voices broken yet true 
 echoes of His. Clairvaux and that woodland oratory 
 were, however, only resting-places in the pauses of a most 
 busy life. He moved freely about in the world, and 
 when he retreated to his Abbey the men and women he 
 had helped and counselled followed him thither, in person, 
 or with letters, and made his retirement only the centre 
 of fresh labours. It is well known how fervently he 
 preached the crusade, and how all Europe was stirred by 
 his appeals ; how assembled multitudes throbbed with a 
 common impulse as that emaciated frame and those 
 "dove-like 1 ' yet flashing eyes silently enforced the plead- 
 ings of that eloquent voice ; how kings and burghers, 
 peaceful men and blood-stained warriors, peasant and 
 noble, the criminal and the devout, wept together, and 
 took on them the badge of the Cross. But perhaps it is 
 not so well known how Bernard looked on this pilgrimage 
 chiefiy as the means of spiritual awakening, and valued 
 even the recovery of the sepulchre from the Infidel little 
 in comparison with the recovery of souls from Satan. 
 "When he had aroused any by means of these appeals to 
 the deeper enthusiasm of the true spiritual crusade to be 
 carried on at home, he deemed the work far higher. 
 Strongly does it testify to his Christ-like character, that, 
 when a fanatical monk endeavoured to turn the crusading 
 enthusiasm against the Jews, Bernard threw his whole 
 heart into endeavours to check the ferocities which 
 ensuecj, and did not rest until he had not only calmed 
 
AND THE PAPACY. 1 B 1 
 
 tlu 1 nge of the populace and stopped the persecution, lmt 
 convinced the instigator of it of his error and sin. 
 
 Constantly he acted as a mediator between the oppressor 
 and the oppressed. In every movement and controversy 
 of the age his active nature shared; it can scarcely be 
 hoped, always on the right side. He was against Arnold 
 of Brescia, Henri, the disciple of Peter de Bruys, and all 
 reformers who stood in opposition to the Church, much, 
 it would seem, as Luther was against the anabaptists of 
 Lis time, and yet their best objects were the same. Both 
 desired a real spiritual reformation of the Church, and if 
 Bernard hoped too much from the ecclesiastical institu- 
 tions of his age, perhaps his opponents were driven into 
 denying institutions appointed by Christ Himself. 
 
 His ideal of the Papacy was very lofty and spiritual 
 He would have had secular cares and dignitaries trans- 
 ferred to secular hands, and would have made the Papal 
 throne a judgment seat, not between one covetous man 
 and another (" Who made me a ruler or a judge over 
 you?" he quotes with reference to this), but between the 
 oppressor and the oppressed, a fountain of truth, a seat of 
 righteous judgment, where, as at the bar of God, men 
 should be known not as noble or royal, rich or poor, but 
 as mem How little this ideal was ever realised history 
 shews; how little it can be realised by a ruler with limited 
 intellect and sin-stained heart will be proved when He 
 shall come "whose right it is." None felt the contradic- 
 tion between the actual and the ideal in this instance 
 more strongly than Bernard himself But he was not a 
 man to defer his work until his tools were perfect The 
 time was short, and the work was great ; thus he worked 
 
152 ST BERNARD 
 
 on with such instruments as he had, and we mnst not 
 wonder if the result sometimes shews traces of the 
 imperfect tools. 
 
 It is strange to see how almost all religious strifes and 
 theological controversies revolve around two or three 
 points, and are as much alike from age to age as the 
 human frame is beneath its countless varieties of local 
 or historical costume. What a day that will be when all 
 the combatants for existing forms against innovations, 
 and for spiritual truth against forms (all, that is, who 
 loved their Master more than their opinions), shall be 
 reconciled at His feet, and find all the work which they 
 unconsciously united in doing for Him recognised, and all 
 the work they unconsciously did in opposition to each 
 other for the spirit of lies and malice forgiven ! 
 
 Bernard had also a serious theological contest with 
 Abelard, which ended in the excommunication of Abelard. 
 The extracts given from it in Neander's " Church His- 
 tory " might almost seem to be taken from popular books 
 of our own time. It was on the nature of the atonement, 
 in relation to the love and justice of God. Without 
 entering into it, the following passages may be quoted 
 from St Bernard, to shew how far — with the deepest con- 
 viction that Jesus died in our stead, and that " His blood 
 cleanseth from all sin " — he was from regarding God as 
 an avenging Judge instead of as a loving Father. In answer 
 to the question thrown out by Abelard, whether God 
 could not have redeemed men by His simple will, he re- 
 plies, " We cannot fathom the sacrament of the Divine 
 will. Yet we can feel the effect of the work, we can be 
 sensible of the benefit. Why did He accomplish that by 
 
ON THE ATONEMENT. 153 
 
 His blood which He might have accomplished by a w 
 Ask Himself. It is vouchsafed me to know that the fact 
 is so, but not the wherefore" In allusion to the scruple 
 which Abelard expressed about admitting that God re- 
 quiml tlio blood of an innocent person, Bernard answers, 
 " It was not the death of Christ in itself, but the will of 
 Him who freely offered Himself that was acceptable to 
 God; and because this precious death, procuring the 
 downfall of sin, could only be brought about by sin, so 
 God had no pleasure in the sin, but used it for good. 
 God did not require the death of His Son, but accepted it 
 when offered ; He did not thirst for man's blood, but 
 for man's salvation." He concludes with this remark, 
 " Three things here meet together, the humility of self- 
 renunciation ; the manifestation of love, even to the death 
 of the cross ; the mystery of redemption, whereby He 
 overcame death. The two former parts are nothing with- 
 out the third. The examples of humility and love are 
 something great, but have no firm foundation without 
 the redemption." These words may serve to throw a 
 deeper light on his hymns to Christ on the Cross. 
 
 Bernard was not a mere philanthropist, his friendships 
 were close and deep, and the love entertained for him in 
 return was very strong. His first converts were among 
 his kindred. He commenced his life of seclusion with a 
 society of thirty personal friends. His family circle was 
 formed again in the cloister, and his father died in his 
 arms. Every day he explained the Bible to his monks.* 
 Many were his letters of faithful counsel, and everywhere 
 his pathway was thronged with friends. The Abbe* 
 * Neander's " Church History," vol. Tiii. (Bohn's edition). 
 
154 ST BERNARD. 
 
 Suger, prime minister of France, and one of the acutest 
 statesmen of his day, aroused to thought by his writings, 
 reformed his Abbey, and on his death-bed called Ber- 
 nard's letters "bread of consolation," and longed only 
 to see his face once more, and then to die. Guillamme, 
 abbot of St Thieriy, was so fascinated with the sweetness 
 and vivacity of his discourse, that, " could he have chosen 
 his lot among all the world had to offer, he would have 
 desired nothing else than to remain always with the man 
 of God, as his servitor." Peter the Venerable, abbot of 
 the rival monastery of Clugny, declared that he " had 
 rather pass his. life with Bernard than enjoy all the king- 
 doms of the world ; and Hildebert, archbishop of Treves, 
 journeyed to Home to entreat the Pope to relieve him 
 from his charge, that he might spend the rest of his days 
 at Clairvaux. Constantly we hear of his " angelic coun- 
 tenance," his " dove-like eyes," of the gracious kindness 
 of his manner, and of the "benevolent smile" which 
 habitually lit up his attenuated countenance. His monks 
 loved him as their father, and years of separation, and 
 the dignity of the papal crown, which one of them 
 (Eugenius) attained, could not weaken the tie. Surely 
 to have been so much loved, he must have loved much. 
 
 But his dearest and closest friendship was with his 
 brother Gerard. His love for his brother was almost 
 motherly. Gerard at length became seriously ill. Dur- 
 ing his illness, the abbot wept, and watched, and suppli- 
 cated his restoration. But Gerard died. Bernard folded 
 up his grief in resolute resignation, and saw his brother 
 buried without a tear. The monks wondered at his firm- 
 ness, for hitherto, at the death of any of the brotherhood, 
 
on urn 
 
 his heart had overflowed in sorrow. He ascended Um 
 pulpit as usual, and, repeating the text, endeavoured 
 calmly to continue his exposition of the Canticles, but 
 old recollections rushed on his heart, and overpowered 
 him. His voice was lost in sobs, and for some minutes 
 he was unable to proceed. Then, recovering himself a 
 little, and feeling the hopelessness of further restraint at 
 that moment, he poured out his grief before " his chil- 
 ." and, in the most touching words, entreated their 
 sympathy. 
 
 ' Who," he said, * could ever have loved me as he 
 did ? He was a brother by blood, but far more by reli- 
 .... Thou art in the eternal presence of the Lord 
 Jesus, and hast angels for thy companions; but what 
 have I to fill up the void thou hast left 1 Fain would I 
 know thy feelings towards me, my brother, my beloved ; 
 if, indeed, it is permitted, to one bathing in the floods of 
 Divine radiance, to call to mind our misery, to be occu- 
 pied with our grief Yet God is love, and the more 
 closely a soul is united to God the more does it abound 
 in love His nature is to have mercy, and to for- 
 give. So, then, thou must needs be merciful, since thou 
 art joined to Him who sheweth mercy; and thine affec- 
 tion, though transformed, is no whit diminished. Thou 
 hast laid aside thine infirmities, but not thy love, for 
 1 love abideth ;' and throughout eternity thou wilt not 
 forget me. He hath given, He hath taken away, and 
 while we deplore the loss of Gerard, let us not forget that 
 he was given. God grant, Gerard, I may not have lost 
 thee, but that thou hast preceded me, and I may be with 
 thee where thou art. For of a surety thou hast rejoined 
 
156 ST BERNARD 
 
 those whom in thy last night below thou didst invite to 
 praise God, when suddenly, to the great surprise of all, 
 thou, with a serene countenance and a cheerful voice, didst 
 commence chanting, 'Praise ye the Lord from the heavens; 
 praise Him, all ye angels.' At that moment, O my 
 brother, the day dawned on thee, though it was night to 
 
 us ; the night to thee was all brightness Just as 
 
 I reached his side, I heard him utter aloud those words 
 of Christ, ' Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.' 
 Then, repeating the verse over again, and resting on the . 
 word ' Father,' ' Father,' he turned to me, and, smiling, 
 said, ' Oh, how gracious of God to be the Father of men, 
 and what an honour for men to be His children,' and 
 then, very distinctly, * If children, then heirs.' And so 
 he died, and so dying he well-nigh changed my grief 
 into rejoicing, so completely did the sight of his happiness 
 overpower the recollection of my own misery. ... 
 Lord, Thou hast but called for Thine own. Thou hast 
 but taken what belonged to Thee. And now my tears 
 put an end to my words. I pray Thee, teach me to put 
 an end to my tears." 
 
 Is it not delightful to see how the believing heart soars 
 above doubt and purgatory, straight to the feet of the 
 risen Saviour, and there sees the beloved in the presence 
 of Love, blessed for evermore.* 
 
 At length the excesses of those early austerities, which 
 he deeply regretted, and the wear and tear of sixty years 
 
 * Bernard's Abbey was a reformatory as well as a home. He once 
 rescued a criminal on his way to execution by his intercessions, threw his 
 own cowl over him, and brought him back to the discipline of Clairvaux, 
 where, thirty years afterwards, the condemned felon is said to have died 
 a true penitent. 
 
Tin: PEACEMAKER. 
 
 on an enfeebled frame, began to tell, and it bccam< 
 dent that the voice, never silent when there were any 
 oppressed to plead for or any afflicted to comfort, always 
 ready with faithful counsel, or solemn rebuke, or tender 
 consolation, was to be silenced; the loving soul would 
 never cease its melodies, but its sphere was soon to be 
 changed. One labour of love, however, remained for him 
 to do. 
 
 He was reduced to extreme weakness, and confined to 
 his bed, awaiting his release from sin and pain, when he 
 was entreated to mediate in a fierce feud between the 
 burghers of Metz and the neighbouring barons, who, in 
 then 1 mutual animosity, were ruining each other, and 
 devastating all the country around. Such a call, at any 
 sacrifice, Bernard could not refuse. Perhaps he thought 
 of his mother, with her failing strength, preparing that 
 feast for the festival of St Ambrose. Perhaps he thought 
 of his Lord sitting weary on the well, yet finding it his 
 meat and drink to fulfil the will of His Father in bring- 
 ing back one lost sheep to the fold. 
 
 Suffering and feeble as he was, he caused himself to be 
 removed to the scene of contest on the banks of the Mo- 
 selle. The barons had at that time the advantage, and 
 contemptuously rejected his mediation, declaring that they 
 would give battle on the morrow. The night only inter- 
 vened, doubtless spent by Bernard, like so many by his 
 Master, in prayer to God. In the morning his friends 
 were lamenting the failure of his efforts : — 
 
 " Fear not," he said, " I know, from a dream I have 
 had to-night, they will yet yield. I was saying the mass, 
 when I remembered with shame that I had forgotten the 
 
158 ST BERNARD. 
 
 angels' song, ' Glory to God in the highest/ and on this I 
 commenced and sang it through with you all." 
 
 That very afternoon a message did, indeed, arrive from 
 the nobles, announcing that they had changed their deter- 
 mination. In the quiet of the night his words of peace 
 had pierced their hearts, and they were ready to listen to 
 terms. Bernard turned joyfully to his friends, and ex- 
 claimed, " Behold, here is the introduction to the song, 
 which we shall so soon have to sing, ' Glory to God in the 
 highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men.' " 
 
 After a few days of negotiation, in consequence of Ber- 
 nard's earnest intercessions and patient mediation, a recon- 
 ciliation was effected, peace was restored, and the peace- 
 maker returned to Clairvaux to die. 
 
 His pains grew more intense, his prostration of strength 
 more complete, and even the respite of a few moments' 
 sleep was withheld from him. After alluding to his suf- 
 ferings in a letter of thanks to a friend who had sent him 
 some fruit, he breaks off abruptly, adding, " I speak as a 
 fool; the spirit is willing, though the flesh is weak." 
 
 His last strength was spent in supplicating his monks, 
 in the words of St Paul, " to abound more and more in 
 every good work;" and as their grief could no longer be 
 restrained, and they stood sobbing around his bed, his 
 eyes filled with tears, and he murmured, " I am in a strait 
 betwixt two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, 
 which is far better, nevertheless the love of my children 
 urgeth me to remain here below." 
 
 These were his last words. Then, fixing his " dove-like 
 eyes on heaven," his spirit passed away from earth, to be, 
 where Gerard and his mother were, " for ever with the 
 
" 8ALVE CAPUT CRUEN l lod 
 
 Lord." He died, at the age oi >, in the year 
 
 His inner life may be further traced in tin 4 three trans- 
 lations of his hymns which close this chapter. This 
 sketch of his history has been given more in detail, be- 
 cause the biographies of the other mediaeval hymn writers 
 contain little' more than the date of their existence, and 
 the names of their monasteries and of their writings, 
 because his life was so illustrative of the Christian life ot 
 his times, and so bound up with its history. Many waifs 
 and strays of mediaeval hymn literature have been incor- 
 rectly assigned to him as a kind of lord of the manor, but 
 those here translated seem admitted, after strict investi- 
 gation, to be his. 
 
 The first is a selection from a series of hymns, inspired 
 by a contemplation of the wounds of the Saviour on the 
 Cross. It has suggested one of Paul Gerhard's most 
 beautiful hymns, though Gerhard's hymn is too original 
 and free to be called a translation. The hymn found in 
 our Moravian and "Wesleyan hymn-books, beginning " O 
 head, so full of bruises," is a translation of Gerhard's, and 
 so a lineal descendant of the verses of St Bernard, of 
 which the following lines are intended to be a translation. 
 
 HYMN TO CHRIST ON THE CROSS. 
 
 {Salve Caput cruentatum.) 
 
 Hail, thou Head ! so bruised and wounded, 
 With the crown of thorns surrounded, 
 Smitten with the mocking reed, 
 Wounds which may not cease to bleed 
 Trickling faint and slow. 
 
160 ST BERNABD. 
 
 Hail ! from whose most blessed brow 
 None can wipe the blood-drops now ; 
 All the flower of life has fled, 
 Mortal paleness there instead ; 
 Thou, before whose presence dread 
 Angels trembling bow. 
 
 All Thy vigour and Thy life 
 Fading in this bitter strife ; 
 Death his stamp on Thee has set 
 Hollow and emaciate, 
 
 Faint and drooping there. 
 Thou this agony and scorn 
 Hast for me, a sinner, borne, 
 Me, unworthy, all for me ! 
 With those signs of love on Thee, 
 
 Glorious Face, appear! 
 
 Yet, in this Thine agony, 
 Faithful Shepherd, think of me ; 
 From whose lips of love divine 
 Sweetest draughts of life are mine, 
 
 Purest honey flows. 
 All unworthy of Thy thought, 
 Guilty, yet reject me not, 
 Unto me Thy head incline, 
 Let that dying head of Thine 
 
 In mine arms repose I 
 
 Let me true communion know 
 With Thee in Thy sacred woe, 
 Counting all beside but dross, 
 Dying with Thee on Thy Cross ; — 
 'Neath it will I die! 
 
I I Ml'NM SM.rTARE. 1C1 
 
 Thanks to Theo with ev'ry breath, 
 Jesus, for Thy bitter dtfti 
 Grant Thy guilty one this prayer, 
 When my dying hour is near, 
 Gracious God, be nigh ! 
 
 When my dying hour must be, 
 Be not absent then from me ; 
 In that dreadful hour, I pray, 
 Jesus come without delay. 
 
 See and set me free ! 
 When Thou biddest me depart, 
 Whom I cleave to with my heart, 
 Lover of my soul be near, 
 With thy saving Cross appear, 
 
 Shew Thyself to me ! 
 
 It is interesting to think that this prayer for his last 
 hours was written by one who had been present when 
 Aletta had sunk back and died with so similar a petition 
 on her lips, and had witnessed the calm which the pre- 
 sence of that crucified Saviour had shed on the death- 
 bed of Gerard. 
 
 The next is from that portion of the same hymn de- 
 voted to the contemplation of the pierced feet of the 
 Saviour. 
 
 SALVE MUNDI 8ALUTARE. 
 
 All the world's salvation, hail ! 
 Jesus, Saviour, hail, oh hail ! 
 I would be conformed now 
 To Thy Cross, Thou knowest how. 
 
 Grant Thy strength to me ! 
 And, if present, oh, receive me ! 
 Ever present I believe Thee, 
 ft 
 
162 ST BERNARD. 
 
 Pure and spotless, I adore Thee, 
 See me, prostrate, here before Thee, 
 Be Thy pardon free. 
 
 Wounded feet, with nails pierced through, 
 Fix'd till death those bonds undo, 
 Tenderly I thus embrace, 
 Gazing, trembling, on Thy face, 
 
 On Thy love so endless. 
 Wounded, we Thy healing prove, 
 Thank Thee for Thy matchless love ; 
 Friend of sinners, suffering there, 
 Thou our ruin canst repair, 
 
 Father of the friendless ! 
 
 What in me is maim'd and shatter'd, 
 Misapplied, or vainly scatter'd, 
 Oh, sweet Jesus ! heal again ; 
 Make my heart's rough places plain, 
 
 By Thy healing rood. 
 Thee upon Thy cross I seek, 
 Helpless is my soul, and weak ; 
 Thou wilt cure as I have craved, 
 Heal me, and I shall be saved, 
 
 Wash me in Thy blood. 
 
 Fix, oh, fix, each crimson wound, 
 And those nail-prints so profound, 
 In my heart engrave them fully, 
 That I may grow like Thee wholly, 
 
 Jesus, Saviour sweet ! 
 Pitying God, to Thee I cry : 
 Guilty at Thy feet I lie, 
 Oh, be merciful to me, 
 Nor bid me, unworthy, flee 
 
 From Thy sacred feet ! 
 
JESU DULCIS MEMORIA. 1G3 
 
 Prostrate, see, Thy Cross I grasp, 
 And Thy piercdd feet I clasp ; 
 Gracious Jesus, spurn me not ; 
 On me, with compassion fraught, 
 
 Let Thy glances fall. 
 From Thy Cross of agony, 
 My Beloved, look on me ; 
 Turn me wholly unto Thee ; 
 " Be thou whole," say openly, 
 
 " I forgive thee all." 
 
 The other hymn has been translated by Count Zinzen- 
 dorf, or rather, poured from St Bernard's heart into his, 
 and then given out, in German, fresh as from a fresh 
 source. The original hymn, from which the following 
 verses are translated, is very long : — 
 
 JESU DULCIS MEMORIA. 
 
 O Jesus ! Thy sweet memory 
 Can nil the heart with ecstasy ; 
 But passing all things sweet that be, 
 Thine actual presence, Lord! 
 
 Never was sung a sweeter word, 
 Nor fuller music e'er was heard, 
 Nor deeper aught the heart hath stirr'd, 
 Than Jesus, Son of God ! 
 
 What hope, Jesus, Thou canst render 
 To those who other hopes surrender — 
 To those who seek Thee, oh, how tender, 
 But what to those who find ! 
 
164 ST BERNARD. 
 
 Jesus, the fragrance of the heart, 
 The only Fount of Truth Thou art, 
 Who dost true life and joy impart, 
 Surpassing all desire. 
 
 No tongue suffices to confess, 
 No letters can enough express, 
 The heart that proves believes the bliss, 
 What it is Christ to love ! 
 
 With Mary, ere the morning break, 
 Him at the sepulchre I seek, 
 Would hear Him to my spirit speak, 
 And see Him with my heart. 
 
 Jesus, King unspeakable ! 
 Victor, whose triumphs none can tell—- 
 Whose goodness is ineffable — 
 Alone to be desired : 
 
 When Thou dost in our hearts appear, 
 Truth shines with glorious light, and clear 
 The world's joys seem the dross they are, 
 And love burns bright within. 
 
 Thy love was proved upon the Cross, 
 The shedding of Thy blood for us — 
 Our free redemption granting thus, 
 And the blest sight of God. 
 
 Who taste Thy love, true food obtain ; 
 Who drink, for ever thirst again ; 
 All other joys seem poor and vain 
 Beside this passing love. 
 
or 1 X 
 
 IWI\ f J 
 
 Mi-.Moin\. 165 
 
 Jesus, the strength of angels strong, 
 Tby name excels the sweetest song, 
 Dropping like honey from the tongue — 
 Like nectar in the heart. 
 
 Wherever I may chance to be, 
 Thee first my heart desires to see; 
 How glad when I discover Thee, 
 How blest when I retain ! 
 
 Beyond all treasures is Thy grace. 
 Oh, when wilt Thou Thy steps retrace, 
 And satisfy me with Thy face, 
 And make me wholly glad ? 
 
 Then come, oh come, Thou perfect King, 
 Of boundless glory, boundless spring ; 
 Arise, and fullest daylight bring, 
 Jesus expected long ! 
 
 Fountain of mercy and of love, 
 Sun of the Fatherland above, 
 The cloud of sadness far remove, 
 The light of glory give ! 
 
 From God's right hand, Thy rightful throne, 
 Return, Beloved, to Thine own ; 
 Thy victory has long been won, 
 Oh, claim Thy conquest now ! 
 
 The heavenly choirs Thy name, Lord, greet. 
 And evermore Thy praise repeat ; 
 Thou fillest heaven with joy complete, 
 Making our peace with God. 
 
1GG ST BERNARD. 
 
 Jesus has gone to heaven again, 
 High on the Father's throne to reign ; 
 My heart no more can here remain, 
 But after Him has gone. 
 
 We follow Thee with praises there, 
 "With hymn, and vow, and suppliant prayer 
 In Thy celestial home to share, 
 Grant us, Lord, with Thee. 
 
MEDLEY AL HYMNS. 1G] 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 MEDIEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 The biographies of the other mediaeval hymn- writers, 
 whose hymns are translated in these pages, are so little 
 kuown, that we must look on their modes of living and 
 thinking through those of St Bernard. 
 
 With one exception, all were monks, and the mono- 
 tonous routine of monastic life seems in their histories to 
 have replaced the endless varieties of discipline by which 
 our heavenly Father trains His children. Doubtless, 
 could we penetrate beneath the cowl and within the con- 
 vent walls, which time has now so firmly sealed, we should 
 see that even there, uniform as the outward life was, the 
 I ies of inward training were as many as the indi- 
 vidual souls there trained Doubtless, whilst these monks 
 rigidly subjected themselves to one arbitrary rule of living, 
 and praying, and abstaining, beneath this rule, and cross- 
 ing it, God's hand was at work, with his own separate dis- 
 cipline for each character, testing by sickness, proving by 
 disappointment, sustaining by especial promises, stirring 
 each heart by special blessings. But all this is hidden from 
 us; and learned men seem only to know that Adam of St 
 Victor, the author of thirty-six of the most celebrated 
 
168 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 mediaeval hymns, was a contemporary of St Bernard, and 
 a member of the illustrious religious house of St Victor at 
 Paris; that Thomas of Celano, supposed author of the 
 "Dies Irae," was an Italian, who became a Franciscan friar, 
 and lived in the thirteenth century; that Thomas a 
 Kempis was a Dutchman, born at Overyssel in 1380, of the 
 Order of the Fratres Communis Vitse ; and that whatever 
 else is known of their minds and hearts, is only as revealed 
 in their writings. 
 
 The one exception to the monastic character of medi- 
 aeval hymn-writers is King Robert the Second of France, 
 author of the touching hymn, in which all his gentle 
 nature seems to speak, " Veni Sancte Spiritus ;" and King 
 Robert had certainly more of the monk than of the king 
 about him. He seems to have been, if ever any man 
 was, made for the cloister, and being forced into the pub- 
 licity of the throne, he threw as much as possible of the 
 colouring of the convent over his home and his court. 
 Necessity drove him to the cares and the state of royalty; 
 but his joys were in church music, which he composed, in 
 devotion, and in alms-giving. His mind was his hermi- 
 tage, and in its cloistral quiet he dwelt apart, enclosed by 
 sacred spells of melody and song. King Robert is hardly 
 an exception to the fact that the hymn- writers of the 
 middle ages were all devoted to the monastic life. The 
 son of Hugh Capet, he ascended the throne of France 
 A.D. 987, and died a.d. 1031. His hymn, "Veni Sancte 
 Spiritus," was therefore probably composed about the 
 commencement of the eleventh century, when the accents 
 of the sacred song were taken up by Peter Damiani, 
 Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, said to have been a zealous 
 
ADAM OF 8T VICTOR. 1G9 
 
 reprover of the popular vices and clerical ambition of his 
 time. He died ad. 1071. HU most beautiful hymn is 
 the one on the Joys of Paradise, frequently attributed to 
 St Augustine. 
 
 Twenty years later (about ad. 1091) St Bernard was 
 born, and he with his contemporaries, Adam of St Victor, 
 Hiltlebert, Peter the Venerable, and Bernard of Clugny, 
 tilled the Church with hymns of praise all through tin- 
 : ih century. That century, the great era of the Cru- 
 sades, was the harvest-field of mediaeval hymns. Those 
 belonging to an earlier or a later period are comparatively 
 mere first-fruits or after-gleanings. Then it was that the 
 great theological school of St Victor tried to reconcile 
 the dialectic and the mystic theology, and its poet was 
 Adam of St Victor, with his elaborate system of Scrip- 
 tural types occasionally chilling the genuine fire of his 
 verse into a catalogue of images. Then Peter the Vene- 
 rable ruled the Abbey of Clugny with his gentle sceptre ; 
 caused the Koran to be translated, that Mohammedanism 
 might be understood and refuted, and the Moslem converted 
 rather than slain ; received the excommunicated Abelard 
 to his monastery, watched over him, and finally accom- 
 plished a reconciliation between him and St Bernard. 
 The beatitude of the peace-maker seems to have rested 
 on this venerable man, and the translation of his hymn, 
 " Mortis portis fractis, fortis," may give some idea of his 
 joyful faith in the Resurrection. 
 
 After this chorus there is a brief silence, the echoes of 
 that burst of song sounding on through the ages, until 
 they blend with the rising tones of a new psalm, and 
 are lost in the solemn and magnificent chant of the 
 
170 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 great mediaeval hymn, the " Dies Irse." That hymn rose 
 alone in a comparative pause, as if Christendom had been 
 hushed to listen to its deep music, ranging as it does 
 through so many tones of human feeling, from trembling 
 awe, and the low murmurs of confession, to tender 
 pathetic pleading with One who, though the "just 
 avenging Judge," yet " sate weary" on the well of Sa- 
 maria, seeking the lost, trod the mournful way, and died 
 the bitterest death for sinful men. Its suj>posed author, 
 Thomas of Celano, in the Abruzzo, lived during the 
 fourteenth century, was a Franciscan monk, and a 
 personal friend of St Francis himself, whose life he wrote. 
 But so much doubt has hung about the authorship, and 
 if Thomas of Celano was the author, so little is known of 
 him — even the date of his birth and death not being 
 ascertained — that we may best think of the " Dies Irse " 
 as a solemn strain sung by an invisible singer. 
 
 There is a hush in the great choral service of the 
 universal Church, when suddenly, we scarcely know 
 whence, a single voice, low and trembling, breaks the 
 silence ; so low and grave that it seems to deepen the 
 stillness, yet so clear and deep that its softest tones and 
 words are heard throughout Christendom, and vibrate 
 through every heart — grand and echoing as an organ, yet 
 homely and human as if the words were spoken rather 
 than sung. And through the listening multitudes 
 solemnly that melody flows on, sung not to the multi- 
 tudes, but " to the Lord," and therefore carrying with it 
 the hearts of men, till the singer is no more solitary, but 
 the selfsame tearful, solemn strain pours from the lips of 
 
" DIE8 IRJS." 1 7 1 
 
 the whole Church as if from one voice, and yet each one 
 sings it as if alone to God. 
 
 For true and deep as that solemn hymn is, it is the soli- 
 tary cry of the prodigal son, awakening to the sense of his 
 sin and ruin in a fur country, and saying, " I will arise," 
 rather than the joyful voice of the forgiven son, when the 
 fat her has met him, and he is no more solitary, and the song 
 of welcome and the feast of the father s house have begun. 
 
 That cry of the returning prodigal shall, indeed, always 
 merge at last into the unutterable gladness of the new 
 song sung by the great multitude no man can number ; 
 but those confiding words and that joyful music are 
 often caught only in broken, saddened echoes on earth, 
 marred and deadened by care, and sin, and theological 
 perplexities. The loss thus sustained is great ; it must 
 make a wide practical difference whether our religion is 
 the cry of personal distress and doubt, or the thanksgiving 
 for deliverance. Danger isolates — each struggles to the 
 shore on his own plank ; deliverance unites. Those in 
 peril are occupied with the danger ; the rescued think of 
 the deliverer. The sense of ruin brings back the prodi- 
 gal ; faith in redemption forms the Church. The more 
 joyful we feel the news to be, the more eager we must be 
 to tell it Therefore it is of immense importance to our 
 love, and unity, and usefulness, that we should believe in 
 Christianity as a gospel, and that our religion should be 
 our joy. To this the "Dies Irae" does not fully reach. But 
 it is pleasant to think how those trembling, pleading 
 words, scarcely rising beyond the " Make me as one of thy 
 hired servants," must long since have been hushed on the 
 Father's bosom, and the unutterable rapture of forgive- 
 
172 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 ness have melted into the deep song of thankful joy, where 
 there is no elder brother to murmur at the welcome of the 
 lost son being too loving or too free. 
 
 Thomas a Kempis (born 1386, died 1471), supposed 
 author of the " Imitation of Christ," next takes up the 
 strain, and it is interesting, through those lines of his 
 on "The Joys of Heaven," to follow the patient bearer 
 of the cross up to the blessed city, " whose gates (in 
 the words of another mediaeval hymn-writer, Hildebert, 
 Archbishop of Tours) are the wood of the Cross ;" not, 
 indeed, the cross of the disciple, but of the Master. 
 
 The latest mediaeval hymn-writer, among those whose 
 hymns are translated in these pages, is John Mauburn, 
 Abbot of Livry, who was born at Brussels, and died a.d. 
 1502. His name may close the list of mediaeval singers, 
 whose hymns were emphatically songs in the night. 
 
 Eighteen years after Mauburn's death, Luther pro- 
 claimed the free forgiveness of sins by God, and by Him 
 alone, through the one Offering and the one Mediator. 
 The Bible was disinterred from the dead languages, one 
 of the brightest mornings in history dawned, and the dark 
 ages were over ! 
 
 The following translations are arranged according to 
 their subjects, not according to their authors. This ar- 
 rangement follows the sacred history of the Gospels and 
 the Acts of the Apostles, as traced in the annual festivals 
 of the Church, embracing the great objects of Christian 
 faith, and concluding with hymns on the joys of heaven, 
 and on more miscellaneous subjects. 
 
 The first two are on the Nativity. Both are of late 
 date, were incorporated, with and without translation, 
 
ISTMAS HYMN. 17.". 
 
 into the Protestant German hymn-books, and sung in the 
 Lutheran churches after the Reformation; the old nn-di- 
 ®val song thus melting into that of the Reformed Church. 
 
 CHRISTMAS HYMN. 
 
 (Puer natus in Bethlehem.) 
 
 The Child is born in Bethlehem, 
 Sing and be glad, Jerusalem ! 
 
 Low on the manger lieth He, 
 
 Whose reign no bound or end can see. 
 
 The ox and ass their Owner know, 
 And own their Lord, thus stooping low. 
 
 The kings bring from the furthest East, 
 Gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Christ. 
 
 That lowly dwelling entering, 
 Reverent they greet the new-born King. 
 
 Born of a virgin mother mild, 
 
 Seed of the woman, wondrous Child ! 
 
 Born of our blood, without the sin, 
 The serpent's venom left therein. 
 
 Like us, in flesh of human frame, 
 Unlike in sin alone He came ; 
 
 That He might make us, sinful men, 
 Like God, and like Himself again. 
 
 In this, our Christmas happiness, 
 
 The Lord with festive hymns we bless : 
 
 The Holy Trinity be praised, 
 
 To God our ceaseless thanks be raised ! 
 
174 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN ON THE NATIVITY. 
 JOHN MAUBURN— BRUSSELS, 1460-1502. 
 
 (Heu quid jaces stabulo.) 
 
 Dost Thou in a manger lie, 
 
 "Who hast all created, 
 Stretching infant hands on high, 
 
 Saviour long awaited ! 
 If a monarch, where Thy state ? 
 Where Thy court on Thee to wait ? 
 
 Royal purple where ? 
 Here no regal pomp we see, 
 Nought but need and penury ; 
 
 "Why thus cradled here 1 , 
 
 Pitying love for fallen man 
 
 Brought me down thus low, 
 For a race deep lost in sin, 
 
 Rushing into woe. 
 By this lowly birth of mine, 
 Countless riches shall be thine, 
 
 Matchless gifts, and free ; 
 "Willingly this yoke I take, 
 And this sacrifice I make, 
 
 Heaping joys for thee. 
 
 Fervent praise would I to Thee 
 
 Evermore be raising ; 
 For Thy wondrous love to me, 
 
 Praising, praising, praising. 
 Glory, glory, be for ever 
 Unto that most bounteous Giver, 
 
 And that loving Lord ! 
 Better witness to Thy worth, 
 Purer praise than ours on earth, 
 
 Angels' songs afford. 
 
HYMN I ■ NIK PASSION. 
 
 MEDITATIONS ON THE BUFFERINGS OF OUR LORD.* 
 AVSXLM Of IXCCA— PIED 1086. 
 
 {Dcterejam, anima, lectulum soporis.) 
 
 Rise, my soul, from slumber now, leave the bed of sloop ; 
 Languor, torpor, vanity, all outside must keep ; 
 While the heart, lit up within, with love's torches glows, 
 Dwelling on that wondrous work, and the Saviour's woes. 
 
 Reason, thought, affections true, gather all together, 
 Nor, by trifles led astray, hither roam and thither ; 
 Fancies wild, distracting doubts, busy cares depart, 
 While the sacraments of life pass before the heart 
 
 Jesu, Sovereign Lord of heaven, sweetest Friend to me, 
 King of all the universe, all was made by Thee ; 
 Who can know or comprehend the wonders thou hast wrought, 
 Since the saving of the lost Thee so low has brought ? 
 
 Thee the love of souls drew down from beyond the sky, 
 Drew Thee from Thy glorious home, Thy palace bright and 
 
 high! 
 To this narrow vale of tears Thou Thy footsteps bendest, 
 Hard the work Thou tak'st on Thee, rough the way Thou 
 
 wendest 
 
 The Joy of all is plunged in grief, the Light of all is waning, 
 
 The Bread of life needs nourishing, the Strength of all sus- 
 taining ; 
 
 The Fount at which all heaven is filled, the Fount of life is 
 thirsting — 
 
 What heart such wonders can behold, and not be nigh to 
 bursting 1 
 
 * Translated from an extract given in Trench's "Sacred Latin Poetry," 
 from a long poem given on the subject. 
 
17G MEDIEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Oh ! faithful Saviour, wonderful Thy gracious condescension, 
 The depths of Thy most tender love exceed all comprehension ; 
 Spotless art Thou, no sin in Thee, that now Thou thus 
 
 shouldst languish, 
 I am the cause — Jesus, I ! — of this Thy bitter anguish. 
 
 I exalt myself in pride — Thou art humbled low ; 
 Mine the sins — the penalty, my Saviour, bearest Thou ! 
 I seek soft and easy paths — Thine was hardness all : 
 Whilst my cup is fill'd with sweets, Thine was mix'd*with gall! 
 
 The two following hymns on the Cross and Passion 
 have been chosen because they dwell less on the details 
 of bodily anguish than on the love which endured them, 
 and the blessings they won for us — because the Cross is so 
 simply held forth in them as the manifestation of the love 
 of God, and the means of the redemption of man. 
 
 Of the first, a Dutch translation (existing in the 
 fifteenth century) is given by Mone. The original Latin 
 may therefore have been of earlier date. These verses 
 are interesting, as having formed an aid to the daily 
 devotions of Christians of that age. 
 
 The second of these hymns has been attributed to St 
 Bernard, but is not in his works, although, Mone says, 
 worthy to be his : — 
 
 THE HOUR£ OF THE PASSION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 {Tu qui velatus facie.) 
 
 Thou who, though with veiled face, 
 Wast still the Sun of righteousness ; 
 With fainting limbs and footsteps slow, 
 Smitten with many a scornful blow : 
 
HYMNS FOR THE HOURS. 177 
 
 With hearts intent we Thee entreat, 
 Extend to us Thy mercy sweet ; 
 And for Thy loving-kindness* sake, 
 Let us Thy glory all partake. 
 
 Honour and praise to Christ be paid, 
 Once sold and causelessly betray'd ; 
 Who for His people willingly 
 Bore death upon the shameful Tree. 
 
 {Hord qui ductus tertid.) 
 
 Thou who at the third hour wast led, 
 O Christ, to meet that torture dread, 
 Who on thy shoulder didst for us, 
 For us unhappy, bear the Cross, 
 
 Make us so full of love to Thee, 
 And let our lives so holy be, 
 That we may win Thy tranquil rest, 
 And in the heavenly land be blest. 
 
 una 
 
 (Crucem pro nobis subiit) 
 
 For us the bitter Cross He bore, 
 
 And, stretch'd thereon, was parch'd with thirst, — 
 Jesus, whose sacred hands were pierced, 
 
 Whose sacred feet with nails they tore. 
 
 Honour and blessing we will bring 
 
 To Him, the Lord, the Crucified, 
 
 Who, by His sufferings as He died, 
 Has ransom'd us from perishing. 
 
178 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 (Beata Christi passio.) 
 
 Christ's blessed Passion set us free, 
 His death our liberation be, 
 Since endless joys are won by this — 
 For us eternal heavenly bliss. 
 
 Glory to Christ the Lord be sung, 
 Who, as upon the Cross he hung, 
 With that great cry gave up the ghost, 
 Saving a world undone and lost. 
 
 AT COMPLINE. 
 
 (Qui jacuisti mortuus.) 
 
 thou who layedst dead, the King, 
 The spotless King, in peace at last, 
 Grant us in peace in Thee to rest, 
 
 And evermore Thy praise to sing. 
 
 Oh succour us, our Lord, and bless 
 Whom thou redeemedst with Thy blood; 
 And grant us in Thy blest abode 
 
 Sweet joys of deep eternal peace. 
 
 ON THE PASSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 (Dulcis* Jesu spes pauperum.) 
 
 Jesus ! Eefuge of the poor 
 And the wretched evermore ; 
 Wretched unto Thee I flee, 
 Thirst with all my heart for Thee. 
 
 * This epithet " dulcis" is omitted, as not precisely rendered by any 
 corresponding English adjective. Three verses have been omitted from 
 this hymn, though simple and touching, as not characteristic of the sub- 
 ject, and therefore, in a translation, tending to weaken the whole. 
 
HYMN ON THE PASSION. 170 
 
 God ! whom more than all I prize, 
 Unto Thee my groans arise ; 
 Thee my weeping voice implores, 
 Thee my lowly heart adores. 
 
 Jesus! nothing is more sweet, 
 Nothing more with joy replete, 
 Than to ponder o'er and o'er 
 All Thy sufferings long and sore ; 
 The memory of Thy death transcending 
 Sweetest ointments richly blending, 
 Balsams, spices, rarest scents, 
 Myrrh, and nard, and frankincense. 
 
 Jesus ! Lord, what hast Thou done ! 
 Thou no cross by sin hast won ! 
 We deserve what Thou sustainest, 
 We have earn'd the cup Thou drainest. 
 We of Adam's race forlorn, 
 Thou of a pure Virgin born ; 
 From our birth our sin doth flow, 
 From Thy birth most pure art Thou. 
 
 Jesus ! what Thou sufferest there 
 For the wretched Thou dost bear, 
 Whom, in the fell tyrant's chains, 
 Thou didst see 'neath direst pains. 
 No necessity on Thee 
 Laid these pains, but mercy free ; 
 Grace made Thee endure the cross, 
 Drink the cup of death for us. 
 
 Jesus 1 look upon me here, 
 Nor despise a sinner's prayer ; 
 
180 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Thou all given up to woe, 
 
 By Thy hands with nails pierced through, 
 
 By Thy side with scourges torn, 
 
 By Thy head thus crown'd with thorn, 
 
 Spit on, mock'd with many a stroke, 
 
 By Thy neck bent 'neath the yoke. 
 
 Jesus ! Teacher who canst bless ! 
 The holy stream, the dew of grace, 
 Flowing from Thy wounded side — 
 Flowing in a crimson tide ! 
 Our remission's ransom price, 
 Our salvation's sacrifice, 
 From Thy piercdd hands it flow'd, 
 From Thy feet, nail'd to the rood. 
 
 Jesus ! once a victim made, 
 Sold, and to Thy foes betray'd ; 
 By their rage, with envy mix'd, 
 To the torturing cross affix'd, 
 Wounded by the spear at last, 
 'Neath the stone imprison'd fast ; 
 Victor now beyond the sky, 
 Haste to save us, oh be nigh ! 
 
 Jesus ! merciful Thou art, 
 Light the sunbeam in my heart, 
 Thou who, cleansing in Thy blood, 
 Hast redeem'd me unto God ! 
 To Father, Son, be honour meet, 
 And to the Holy Paraclete — 
 All honour to the Trinity, 
 Through ages that no close shall see. 
 
ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 181 
 
 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 
 FXTKB tRm VKXUULBLB, ABBOT OF CLUQHY— 1092-1156. 
 
 (Mortis portis fractis, fortu.) 
 
 Lo, the gates of death are broken, 
 
 And the strong man arm'd is spoilVl, 
 Of his armour, which he trusted, 
 By the Stronger Arm despoiTd. 
 Vanquish'd is the prince of hell, 
 Smitten by the Cross he felL 
 
 Then the purest light resplendent 
 Shone those seats of darkness through, 
 
 When, to save whom he created, 
 God will'd to create anew. 
 
 That the sinner might not perish, 
 
 For him the Creator dies, 
 By Whose death our dark lot changing, 
 
 Life again for us doth rise. 
 
 Satan groan'd, defeated then, 
 
 When the Victor ransom'd men ; 
 Fatal was to him the strife, 
 Unto man the source of life ; 
 Captured as he seized his prey, 
 He is slain as he would slay. 
 
 Thus the King all hell hath vanquish'd 
 
 Gloriously and mightily; 
 On the first day leaving Hades, 
 
 Victor He returns on high. 
 
 Thus God brought man back to heaven, 
 When He rose from out the grave, 
 
182 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 The pure primal life bestowing, 
 Which creating first he gave. 
 
 By the sufferings of his Maker, 
 
 To his perfect Paradise 
 The first dweller thus returneth ; 
 
 Wherefore these glad songs arise. 
 
 ADAM OP ST VICTOR— TWELFTH CENTURY. 
 
 (Pone luctum Magdalena.) 
 
 Lay aside thy mourning, Mary, 
 
 Weep no longer, Magdalen ! 
 This is not the feast of Simon,* 
 
 Tears became thy true heart then. 
 Thousand causes here of gladness, 
 Thousand ! and not one of sadness. 
 Let thine Alleluia rise ! 
 
 Clothe thyself in gladness, Mary, 
 Let thy brow shine calm and clear ; 
 
 All the pain and grief has vanish'd, 
 And the glorious Light is here. 
 
 Christ hath burst the world's dark prison, 
 
 Over death triumphant risen. 
 Let thine Alleluia rise ! 
 
 Lift thy voice rejoicing, Mary, 
 Christ hath risen from the tomb ; 
 
 Sad the scene He pass'd through lately, 
 Now a Victor He is come. 
 
 Whom thy tears in death were mourning, 
 
 Welcome with thy smiles returning, 
 Let thine Alleluia rise ! 
 
 * Alluding to the belief prevalent in the middle ages, that the 
 " woman who was a sinner" (Luke vii.) was the Magdalene. 
 
SPRING AND TIIE RESURRECTION. 183 
 
 Raise thy heavy eyelids, Mary, 
 
 See Him living evermore ; 
 See His countenance how gracious, 
 
 See the wounds for thee He bore. 
 All the gems on Sion gleaming 
 Palo before those wounds redeeming. 
 Let thine Alleluia rise ! 
 
 Life is thine for ever, Mary, 
 
 For thy Light is come again ; 
 And the strength of death is broken, 
 
 Tides of joy fill every vein. 
 Far hath fled the night of sorrow, 
 Love hath brought the blessed morrow. 
 Let thine Alleluia rise ! 
 
 8PRINQ-AND THE RESURRECTION. 
 ADAM OF ST VICTOR. 
 
 {Mundi renovatio.) 
 
 The renewal of the world 
 
 Countless new joys bringeth forth, 
 Christ arising, all things rise — 
 
 Rise with Him from earth. 
 All the creatures feel their Lord, 
 Feel His festal light outpour'd. 
 
 Fire springs up with motion free, 
 Breezes wake up soft and warm ; 
 
 Water flows abundantly, 
 Earth remaineth firm. 
 
 All things light now skyward soar, 
 
 Solid things are rooted more; 
 All things are made new. 
 
184 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Ocean waves, grown tranquil, lie 
 Smiling 'neath the heavens serene ; 
 
 All the air breathes light and fresh, 
 Our valley groweth green. 
 
 Verdure clothes the arid plain, 
 
 Frozen waters gush again, 
 At the touch of Spring. 
 
 For the frost of death is melted, 
 The prince of this world lieth low, 
 
 And his empire strong amongst us, 
 All is broken now. 
 
 Grasping Him in whom alone 
 
 He could nothing claim or own, 
 His domain he lost. 
 
 Paradise is now regain'd, 
 Life has vanquish'd death, 
 
 And the joys he long had lost, 
 Man recovereth. 
 
 The cherubim, at God's own word, 
 
 Turn aside the naming sword ; 
 
 The long-lost blessing is restored, 
 The closed way open'd free. 
 
 SPRING AND EASTER. 
 
 {Plaudite coeli.) 
 
 Smile praises, sky, 
 
 Soft breathe them, air, 
 Below and on high, 
 
 And everywhere ! 
 The black troop of storms 
 
 Has yielded to calm ; 
 Tufted blossoms are peeping, 
 
 And early palm. 
 
TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 183 
 
 Arouse thee, spring; 
 
 Ye flowers, come forth, 
 With thousand hues tinting 
 
 The soft green earth ; 
 Ye violets tender, 
 
 And sweet roses bright, 
 Gay Lent-lilies blended 
 
 With pure lilies white. 
 
 Sweep, tides of rich music, 
 
 The full veins along ; 
 And pour in full measure, 
 
 Sweet lyres, your song. 
 Sing, sing, for He liveth, 
 
 He lives, as He said ; 
 The Lord has arisen 
 
 Unharm'd from the dead. 
 
 Clap, clap your hands, mountains, 
 
 Ye valleys, resound ; 
 Leap, leap for joy, fountains, 
 
 Ye hills, catch the sound 
 All triumph ! He liveth, 
 
 He lives, as He said ; 
 The Lord hath arisen 
 
 Unharm'd from the dead. 
 
 TO THE HOLY 8PHUT. 
 KIHO ROBERT SEOOBD OF FRJLHCB— DIED 1031. 
 
 (Pern, Sancte Spiritus.) 
 
 Holy Spirit, come, we pray, 
 Come from heaven and shed the ray 
 Of Thy light divine. 
 
186 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Come, Thou Father of the poor, 
 Giver from a boundless store, 
 Light of hearts, shine ! 
 
 Matchless Comforter in woe, 
 Sweetest Guest the soul can know, 
 Living waters blest. 
 
 "When we weefc, our solace sweet, 
 Coolest shade in summer heat, 
 In our labour rest. 
 
 Holy and most blessed Light, 
 Make our inmost spirits bright 
 With Thy radiance mild ; 
 
 For without Thy sacred powers, 
 Nothing can we own of ours, 
 Nothing undenled. 
 
 What is arid, fresh bedew, 
 What is sordid, cleanse anew, 
 
 Balm on the wounded pour. 
 
 What is rigid, gently bend, 
 On what is cold, Thy fervour send, 
 What has strand, restore. 
 
 To Thine own in every place 
 Give the sacred sevenfold grace, 
 Give Thy faithful this. 
 
 Give to virtue its reward, 
 Safe and peaceful end afford, 
 Give eternal bliss. 
 
TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 187 
 
 TO THE HOLT SPIRIT. 
 ADAM OF ST VICTOR. 
 
 ( Tent, Creator Spiritu*, Spiritut Becreator.) 
 
 Come, Creator-Spirit high, 
 
 Re-creating ever ; 
 Giv'n and giving from the sky, 
 
 Thou the Gift and Giver. 
 Thou the Law within us writ, 
 Finger Thou that writeth it, 
 
 Inspired and Inspirerl 
 
 With thy sevenfold graces good 
 
 Sevenfold gifts be given, 
 For sevenfold beatitude 
 
 And petitions seven.* 
 Thou the pure, unstained snow, 
 That shall never sullied flow ; 
 Fire that burns not though it glow; 
 Wrestler ne'er defeat to know, 
 
 Giving words of wisdom. 
 
 Kindle Thou Thyself in us, 
 
 Thou both Light and Fire ; 
 Thou Thyself still into us, 
 
 Breath of Life, inspire ! 
 Thou the Ray and Thou the Sun, 
 Sent and Sender, Thee we own ; 
 Of the Blessed Three in One, 
 Thee we, suppliant, call upon. 
 
 Save us now and ever. 
 
 * The seven petitions in the Lord's Prayer. 
 
188 MEDLEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 ON THE DAT OF JUDGMENT. 
 THOMAS OP CBLANO— THIRTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 {Dies irce, Dies ilia.) 
 
 Lo, the Day of wrath, the Day 
 Earth and heaven melt away, 
 David and the Sybil say. 
 
 Stoutest hearts with fear shall quiver, 
 When to Him who erreth never, 
 All must strict account deliver. 
 
 Lo, the trumpet's wondrous pealing, 
 Flung through each sepulchral dwelling, 
 All before the throne compelling ! 
 
 Nature shrinks appall'd, and death, 
 When the dead regain their breath ; 
 To the Judge each answereth. 
 
 Then the Written Book is set, 
 All things are contain'd in it, 
 Thence each learns his sentence meet. 
 
 When the Judge appears again, 
 Hidden things shall be made plain, 
 Nothing unavenged remain. 
 
 What shall I, unworthy, plead ? 
 Wh6 for me will intercede, 
 When the just will mercy need ? 
 
 King of dreadful majesty, 
 
 Who sav'st the saved, of mercy free, 
 
 Fount of pity, save Thou me! 
 
OX THE DAY OK Jl 188 
 
 Think of me, good Lord, I pray, 
 Who trodd*st for me the bitter way, 
 Nor forsake me in that Day. 
 
 Weary sat'st Thou seeking me, 
 Diedst redeeming on the Tree ; 
 Not in vain such toil can be ! 
 
 Judge avenging, let me win 
 Free remission of my sin, 
 Ere that dreadful Day begin. 
 
 Sinful, o'er my sins I groan, 
 
 Guilt my crimson'd face must own, 
 
 Spare, O God, Thy suppliant one ! 
 
 Mary was by Thee forgiven, 
 
 To the thief Thou open'dst heaven, 
 
 Hope to me, too, Thou hast given. 
 
 All unworthy is my prayer ; 
 Gracious One, be gracious there ; 
 From that quenchless fire, oh spare 1 
 
 Place Thou me at Thy right hand, 
 'Mongst Thy sheep, oh make me stand, 
 Far from the convicted band. 
 
 When the accursed condemn'd shall be, 
 Doom'd to keenest flames by Thee, 
 *Midst the blessed call Thou me. 
 
 Contrite suppliant, I pray, 
 Ashes on my heart I lay, 
 Care Thou for me in that Day 1 
 
190 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION DAY. 
 FROM A POEM OP THE TWELFTH CENTURY, BY AN UNKNOWN AUTHOR. 
 
 (Dies ilia, Dies vitce.) 
 
 Lo, the Day — the Day of Life, 
 
 Day of unimagined light, 
 Day when Death itself shall die, 
 
 And there shall be no more night. 
 
 Steadily that Day approacheth, 
 When the just shall find their rest, 
 
 "When the wicked cease from troubling, 
 And the patient reign most blest. 
 
 See the King desired for ages, 
 
 By the just expected long ; 
 Long implored, at length He hasteth, 
 
 Cometh with salvation strong. 
 
 Oh, how past all utterance happy, 
 
 Sweet and joyful it will be 
 When they who, unseen, have loved Him, 
 
 Jesus face to face shall see ! 
 
 In that Day, how good and pleasant, 
 This poor world to have despised ! 
 
 And how mournful, and how bitter, 
 Dear that lost world to have prized ! 
 
 Blessed, then, earth's patient mourners, 
 Who for Christ have toil'd and died, 
 
 Driven by the world's rough pressure 
 In those mansions to abide ! 
 
 There shall be no sighs or weeping, 
 Not a shade of doubt or fear, 
 
DAM I AN JOYS OF HEAVEN. 101 
 
 No old age, no want or sorrow, 
 Nothing sick or lacking there. 
 
 There the peace will be unbroken, 
 
 Deep and solemn joy be shed ; 
 Youth in fadeless flower and freshness, 
 
 And salvation perfected. 
 
 What will be the bliss and rapture 
 None can dream and none can tell, 
 
 There to reign among the angels, 
 In that heavenly home to dwelL 
 
 To those realms, just Judge, oh call me, 
 
 Deign to open that blest gate, 
 Thou whom, seeking, looking, longing, 
 
 I, with eager hope, await ! 
 
 THE JOYS OP HEAVEN. 
 CARDINAL PETER DAMIANI— 1003-1072. 
 
 (Ad perennis vita fontem mens sitivit arida) 
 
 In the Fount of life perennial the parched heart its thirst 
 
 would slake, 
 And the soul, in flesh imprison'd, longs her prison walls to 
 
 break — 
 Exile, seeking, sighing, yearning, in her fatherland to wake. 
 
 When with cares oppressed and sorrows, only groans her grief 
 
 can tell, 
 Then she contemplates the glory which she lost when first 
 
 she fell ; 
 Present evil but the memory of the vanish'd good can swelL 
 
 Who can utter what the pleasures and the peace unbroken are, 
 Where arise the pearly mansions, shedding silvery light afar, 
 Festive seats and golden roofs, which glitter like the evening star 1 
 
192 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Wholly of fair stones most precious are those radiant struc- 
 tures made, 
 
 With pure gold, like glass transparent, are those shining streets 
 inlaid, 
 
 Nothing that denies can enter, nothing that can soil or fade. 
 
 Stormy winter, burning summer,rage within those regions never, 
 But perpetual bloom of roses and unfading spring for ever ; 
 Lilies gleam, the crocus glows, and dropping balms their scents 
 deliver. 
 
 Honey pure, and greenest pastures, this the land of promise is, 
 Liquid odours soft distilling, perfumes breathing on the breeze ; 
 Fruits immortal cluster always on the leafy fadeless trees. 
 
 There no moon shines chill and changing, there no stars with 
 
 twinkling ray, 
 For the Lamb of that blest city is at once the Sun and Day ; 
 Night and time are known no longer, day shall never fade away. 
 
 There the saints like suns are radiant, like the sun at dawn 
 
 they glow ; 
 Crowned victors after conflict, all their joys together flow, 
 And secure they count the battles where they fought the 
 
 prostrate foe. 
 
 Every stain of flesh is cleansed, every strife is left behind, 
 
 Spiritual are their bodies, perfect unity of mind ; 
 
 Dwelling in deep peace for ever, no offence or grief they find. 
 
 Putting off their mortal vesture, in their Source their souls 
 
 they steep — 
 Truth by actual vision learning, on its form their gaze they 
 
 keep — 
 Drinking from the living Fountain draughts of living waters 
 
 deep. 
 
D.\v JOYS OF 111 win 
 
 with all its alternations, enters not those hosts among ; 
 I is, wakeful, blest, no shade of chance or change o'er 
 
 theinOs flung ; 
 Sickness cannot touch the deathless, nor old age the ever young. 
 
 There their being is eternal, things that cease have ceased to be ; 
 All corruption there has perish'd,v there they flourish strong t 
 
 and free: 
 Thus mortality is swallowM up of life eternally. 
 
 Nought from them is hidden, knowing Him to whom all 
 
 things are known, 
 All the spirit's deep recesses, sinless, to each other shewn, — 
 Unity of will and purpose, heart and mind for ever one. 
 
 Diverse as their varied labours the rewards to each that fall, 
 But Love what she loves in others, evermore her own doth call ; 
 Thus the several joy of each becomes the common joy of alL 
 
 Where the body is, there ever are the eagles gathered, 
 
 For the saints and for the angels one most blessed feast is 
 
 spread, — 
 Citizeus of either country living on the selfsame bread. 
 
 Ever fill'd, and ever seeking, what they have they still desire ; 
 Hunger there shall fret them never, nor satiety shall tire, — 
 Still enjoying whilst aspiring, in their joy they still aspire. 
 
 There the new song, new for ever, those melodious voices sing; 
 Ceaseless streams of fullest music through those blessed 
 
 regions ring ; 
 Crowned victors ever bringing praises worthy of the King ! 
 
 Blessed wtfo the King of heaven in His beauty thus behold, 
 And beneath His throne rejoicing see the universe unfold, — 
 Sun and moon, and stars and planets, radiant in His light 
 unroird ! 
 
194 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Christ, the Palm of faithful victors ! of that city make me free ; 
 When my warfare shall be ended, to its mansions lead Thou 
 
 me, — 
 Grant me, with its happy inmates, sharer of Thy gifts to be ! 
 
 Let Thy soldier, yet contending, still be with Thy strength 
 
 supplied ; 
 Thou will not deny the quiet when the arms are laid aside ; 
 Make me meet with Thee for ever in-that country to abide ! 
 
 ON THE JOTS OP HEAVEN. 
 THOMAS A KEMPIS— 1380-1471. 
 
 High the angel choirs are raising 
 
 Heart and voice in harmony ; 
 The Creator King still praising, 
 
 Whom in beauty there they see. 
 
 Sweetest strains, from soft harps stealing ; 
 Trumpets, notes of triumph pealing ; 
 Radiant wings and white stoles gleaming, 
 Up the steps of glory streaming ; 
 Where the heavenly bells are ringing, 
 Holy, holy, holy ! singing 
 
 To the mighty Trinity ! 
 Holy, holy, holy ! crying ; 
 For all earthly care and sighing 
 
 In that city cease to be ! 
 
 Every voice is there harmonious, 
 Praising God in hymns symphonious ; 
 Love each heart with light enfolding, 
 As they stand in peace beholding 
 
 There the Triune Deity ! 
 Whom adore the seraphim, 
 
l'J.) 
 
 Aye with love eternal burning ; 
 Venerate the cherubim, 
 
 To their fount of honour turning ; 
 Whilst logefio thrones adoring 
 Gaze upon His majesty. 
 
 Oh how beautiful that region, 
 And how fair that heavenly legion, 
 
 Where thus men and angels blend ! 
 Glorious will that city be, 
 Full of deep tranquillity, 
 
 Light and peace from end to end ! 
 All the happy dwellers there 
 
 Shine in robes of purity, 
 
 Keep the law of charity, 
 
 Bound in firmest unity ; 
 Labour finds them not, nor care. 
 
 Ignorance can ne'er perplex, 
 
 Nothing tempt them, nothing vex ; 
 
 Joy and health their fadeless blessing, 
 
 Always all things good possessing. 
 
 ST 8TEPHEN*8 DAY. 
 ADAM OP ST VICTOR. 
 
 (fferi mundus exultavit.) 
 Yesterday the happy earth 
 PeaTd her grateful praises forth, 
 
 Keeping Christ's nativity ; 
 Yesterday the angel throng 
 Met the King of heaven with song, 
 
 And with high festivity. 
 
 Protomartyr in the strife, 
 Noble both in faith and life, 
 Wonder-working gifts receiving, 
 
196 MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 
 
 Thou, Stephen, 'neath that Light, 
 Triumphedst with heavenly might, 
 Braving all the unbelieving ! 
 
 Light's foes, like wild beasts at bay, 
 Quivering crouch to seize their prey, 
 
 By Thy words of truth heart-stung ; 
 Lying witnesses they bring, 
 Viper's brood with viper's sting, 
 
 Poisonous and lying tongue. 
 
 Noble wrestler, yield to none, 
 For thy victory must be won ; 
 
 Stephen, struggle bravely through ! 
 Those false witnesses refute, 
 Satan's synagogue confute, 
 
 "With thy holy speech and true. 
 
 From heaven thy Witness watcheth thee, 
 True and faithful Witness He, 
 
 Witness of thine innocence ; 
 Stephen, crown'd one is thy name — 
 Light the' torture and the shame 
 
 For that crown of light intense. 
 
 For that crown that cannot wither, 
 
 Press through these brief torments thither- 
 
 Triumph shall reward thy strife : . 
 Death is thy nativity, 
 And thy sufferings' close shall be 
 
 The beginning of thy life ! 
 
 The Holy Spirit filleth him, 
 And his sight no more is dim, 
 Piercing heaven with dying eyes ; 
 
ON MARTYRDOM. 197 
 
 He sees the glory of his God, 
 Sigheth for that blest abode, 
 Pressing forward to the prize. 
 
 Jesus on God's right hand standing, 
 Standing and for thee contending — 
 
 Stephen, lift thine eyes and see ! 
 Jesus to thy vision given, 
 Christ for thee unclosing heaven ; 
 
 Call on Him, He watcheth thee ! 
 
 Then his spirit he commends 
 To that Saviour, Friend of friends, 
 For whose sake he deems it sweet 
 All that rage and pain to meet, 
 
 Sweet to die beneath those stones ! 
 Saul the murderers' raiment keepeth, 
 In that crime his heart he steepeth, 
 
 As his own each blow he owns. 
 
 Lest the sin to them be laid, 
 
 By whose hands his blood was shed, 
 
 Kneeling down, for them he pr.iy M, 
 
 Rendering pity for the wrong. 
 Thus in Christ he calmly slept 
 Who so true to Christ had kept, 
 And with Christ he reigneth ever — 
 Ever since, and still for ever, 
 
 First-fruits of the martyr throng ! 
 
 ON AFFLICTION. 
 
 FROM A BYMH 05 THE MARTYRDOM OP ST LAWRENCE, LT ADAM Of 
 
 ST VICTOR. 
 
 (Sicut chorda musicorum.) 
 As the harp-strings only render 
 All their treasures of sweet sound, 
 
19S MEDIEVAL HYMXS. 
 
 All their music, glad or tender, 
 Firmly struck and tightly bound : 
 
 So the hearts of Christians owe 
 Each its deepest, sweetest strain, 
 
 To the pressure firm of woe, 
 And the tension tight of pain. 
 
 Spices crush'd their pungence yield, 
 Trodden scents their sweets respire ; 
 
 "Would you have its strength reveal'd, 
 Cast the incense in the fire : 
 
 Thus the crush'd and broken frame 
 
 Oft doth sweetest graces yield ; 
 And through suffering, toil, and shame, 
 From the martyr's keenest flame 
 
 Heavenly incense is distill'd ! 
 
 ALLELUIA DTTLCE CARMEN. 
 
 Alleluia ! sweetest music, voice of everlasting joy ! 
 Alleluia is the language which the heavenly choirs employ, 
 As they ever sing to God, in that pure and blest abode. 
 
 Alleluia ! joyful mother, true Jerusalem above ! 
 Alleluia is the music which thy happy children love ; 
 Exiles, tears our songs must steep ; oft by Babel's streams we 
 weep. 
 
 Alleluia cannot ever be our joyous psalm below ; 
 Alleluia ! — sin will cross it often here with tones of woe ; 
 Many a mournful hour we know, when our tears for sin must 
 flow. 
 
 Therefore, 'mid our tears still praising, grant us, Blessed Trinity, 
 Thy true Paschal Feast hereafter in the heavenly home to see, 
 Where our song shall ever be, Alleluia unto Thee ! 
 
MEDLEVAL RELK. IS9 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MEDHM7AL REOOIOH. 
 
 \* Clive, and Wanvn I !a tings, and the Indian ad- 
 venturers of the last century, returned from the East 
 Indies with princely fortunes, the popular conclusion 
 was, that India must be a land of fabulous wealth, in- 
 stead of being, as it is, a country whose rare oases of 
 magnificence are surrounded by wide wastes of poverty, 
 such as England never dreamed o£ In gathering to- 
 gether all the treasures of faith and pure devotion which 
 we can find in the hymn literature of the middle ages, we 
 must be careful not to make a similar mistake. These 
 gems and this gold do not come from a land of gold and 
 gems, where they can be picked up everywhere at ran- 
 dom ; they are often dug from deep mines, and they too 
 frequently flash across a chaos of ignorance and darkness. 
 They shew, indeed, what true Christian life was in the 
 middle ages, but they do not shew what mediaeval reli- 
 gion was. They prove that " all our fathers were under 
 the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all ate the 
 same spiritual meat, and all drank the same spiritual 
 drink; for they drank of that spiritual Rock which fol- 
 lowed them : and that Rock was Christ" But they by 
 
200 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 no means illustrate what the common religious food of the 
 middle ages unhappily was. To form to ourselves a true 
 picture of this, we may glance through the general mass 
 of the hymns of those centuries. " Out of the heart are 
 the issues of life," bitter or sweet ; and, long before error 
 has been stereotyped into a creed, it has echoed from 
 the hearts of the people in hymns. We need only study 
 the sacred poetry of the middle ages to understand why 
 the Reformation was needed. 
 
 One painfully expressive fact meets us at the outset. 
 Of Mone's " Collection of the Latin Hymns of the Middle 
 Ages," in three volumes, one is filled with hymns to God 
 and the angels ; one with hymns to the blessed Virgin 
 Mary ; and one with hymns to the saints. Among the 
 hymns to God, in themselves not sufficient to fill one of 
 these volumes, are included invocations to the transub- 
 stantiated host, and to the material cross ; and in the 
 hymns to our Saviour are introduced, not seldom, invoca- 
 tions to the Virgin Mary. At the same time, it should 
 be said that some of the more beautiful hymns here 
 translated have been selected from Daniel's " Thesaurus" 
 and Trench's " Latin Poetry of the Middle Ages," and are 
 not contained in Mone's collection. 
 
 The hymns to the saints are of every variety of tone, 
 from tender commemorations of the forgiveness and love 
 of the Magdalene, or a heart-stirring narrative of the 
 martyrdom and rejoicing faith of Stephen, to sentimental 
 spiritual love-songs, or repulsive catalogues of tortures, 
 which may perhaps have served as copy-books to the In- 
 quisition. Of all the lives of the saints, the truest com- 
 prehension of the only title by which any fallen man can 
 
MART MAGDALENE. Jul 
 
 enter heaven seems to have been preserve) 1 in that of 
 Mary Magdalene. She is spoken of in tin* hymns and 
 sequences as the forgiven sinner (the incident in Luke vii. 
 g ascribed to her), loving much because forgiven 
 much ; fearing not the scornful crowd of Pharisees, if 
 only she could reach Jesus ; bathing with her tears the 
 . »f Him who washed her from her sins in His own 
 blood ; receiving the assurance of absolution ; and, full of 
 undying gratitude, the first at the sepulchre, and the first 
 to see the risen Lord, — the great example of His grace and 
 pity. And although, even here, her love is sometimes 
 more dwelt on than the love of Christ in pardoning her, 
 yet enough is left to direct any heart burdened with rfn 
 to the Fountain of love and forgiveness which was 
 opened to her. The following sentence, from one of the 
 sequences in commemoration of her, enters deeply into 
 the blessed meaning of that incident in the house of 
 Simon the Pharisee. It is a concentration of many truths 
 in one brief sentence : — 
 
 " The sinner condemns his fellow-sinner. Thou, who 
 kuowest no sin, receivest the penitent, purifiest the im- 
 pui < . lovest that Thou mayest make beautiful ! n 
 
 But through the greater number of these rhymed 
 narratives and invocations, little, indeed, of the light of 
 God's love penetrates ; in many of them we can trace little 
 even of the true conception of human heroism. The glory 
 of the martyrdom is too often made to consist rather in 
 the tortures than in the love, and the confession, and the 
 courage it inspired. There is a kind of revelling in the 
 number and intensity of the torments inflicted, as if pain 
 were the coin for which God gave heavenly honours in 
 
202 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 exchange ; as if sorrow and suffering were good in them- 
 selves, and not only for what they bring or work. 
 
 Thus gradually, as it ever must be, the human virtues 
 which were enthroned in the place of God's love and grace 
 lost their beauty, and, in hiding the light, themselves 
 grew dark. As with the Rosamond's jar of our child- 
 hood, the colours of the contents were transferred in 
 imagination to the vessel which contained them, and it 
 was not till the contents were lost that the beauty was 
 seen to have dwelt in these alone. 
 
 Then, as mediseval hymn literature became further 
 degraded from a sacred work in honour of God to a 
 literary pastime, the monks played with the names of the 
 saints, and made religious puns about the crown of St 
 Stephen, Margaret Pearl of Paradise, St Lance and the 
 lance which pierced the side of Christ. 
 
 The word holy also remarkably changes its meaning in 
 these hymns, and, from an attribute of God and spiritual 
 natures, becomes regarded as a quality of material and 
 inanimate things. There were holy hours and holy days, 
 and holy buildings and holy wood, and holy water and 
 holy oil, and holy bread, and holy stones, and holy bones, 
 — as if the soul could gather holiness, the nature of her 
 God, from things in which no moral attribute could reside ! 
 Lower than this religion cannot sink, from the worship 
 of the living God to the worship of lifeless charms ; yet, 
 to this point the religion of the middle ages can, unhap- 
 pily, be traced in some of its hymns, especially in those 
 to the Cross, and in those to the impression of the " Holy 
 Face of the Redeemer," left on the cloth with which St 
 Veronica wiped the sweat from that sacred brow. 
 
Tin i vry. 203 
 
 But the great characteristic worship, which gradual ly 
 gathered to itself the warmest affections of the heart, 
 was the worship of Mary, the ideal of every feminine 
 grace and virtue, the Virgin-Mother ; and this can be 
 traced from its commencement in the hymns. 
 
 In the earliest Greek hymns given in I Muriel's Thesaurus 
 no trace of this worship is visible ; and of all the Greek 
 hymns collected by him, ranging from the third century 
 to the twelfth, only two are professedly, from beginning 
 to end, addressed to Maiy, these being of the latest date ; 
 but in the fourth century the germs are but too visible. 
 The great oriental festival of the manifestation of Christ 
 as God at His baptism was not linked with the life of the 
 Virgin ; it is through the nativity that the exaggerated 
 • nee first creeps in. The Scripture narrative is lost 
 of in the heat of controversy about the union of the 
 I - and human natures in the person of Christ, and 
 
 Mary is enthroned as the mother of God. One title after 
 another is lavished on her, as the natural consequence of 
 this supreme title: All holy, surpassingly holy, Mother 
 of the unsetting Sun, Lady, Queen ! — what title is too lofty 
 to follow when once it was forgotten that the glory of 
 the incarnation lay in its infinite condescension, in the 
 wondrous grace which made the Lord of glory stoop so 
 low ; that the glory of all connected with Him consists 
 not in what they are, but in what He is ? The mistaken 
 reverence, the utter misapprehension of the object of the 
 incarnation, which threw this false lustre on the mother 
 of Jesus, blotting out her true blessedness, should have 
 traced the pedigree of Christ as a line of light through 
 the history of man, illuminated with none but the most 
 
204 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION". 
 
 saintly names, and should surely have effaced those of 
 Baliab and of " her who had been the wife of Uriah." 
 
 But there was another error, as pernicious and as wide- 
 spread, which contributed to swell the tide of Mariolatry, 
 the error which lost half the lessons of Jewish history 
 and of the life of Jesus, and threw Christendom back to 
 the wilderness and the camel's hair for its pattern, instead 
 of to the home at Nazareth : the error which peopled 
 deserts with isolated atoms of humanity, and desecrated 
 homes. Monasticism added another step to the throne of 
 Mary ; and the adoration of Mary the mother of God 
 became absorbed in that of St Mary the Yirgin. It is 
 chiefly in this aspect that the early Latin hymns regard 
 her — the pure vessel worthy of the great honour bestowed 
 on it, meet, in her spotless purity, to be the gate through 
 which life should enter the world, "the birth which 
 becomes God." Yet, throughout the Ambrosian hymns 
 there is not one especially addressed to her ; and if she 
 received a homage no creature, unfallen or redeemed, 
 could desire, less than any that lowly and most blessed 
 handmaid of the Lord, still the homage was rendered 
 for Jesus' sake. Steadily, however, that great idolatry 
 advanced, gathering strength from the weaknesses of 
 humanity, and from its virtues, its asceticism, and its 
 tenderness. Little nourishment, indeed, could it by any 
 ingenuity extract from the Bible, from the sorrowful 
 search at Jerusalem, from the marriage-feast at Cana, 
 from the Cross — where the last agony could not extinguish 
 the tenderness of Jesus, nor that surpassing tenderness 
 draw from. Him one word which might have misled His 
 Church — from the benediction which merged even her 
 
ADORATION OF MA I 205 
 
 blessedness as His mortal mother in the yet deeper 
 blessedness of His purchased and espoused Church. The 
 1 »il»l«* lia.l therefore to be laid aside; of all the incidents 
 iry's life recorded there, scarcely one is touched on in 
 these hymns except the birth of Jesus. Tradition wove a 
 gorgeous robe for her, and dressed Ik t lit in a false history, 
 from the immaculate conception to the glorious assumption 
 into heaven ; the true Mary, and her lowly and feminine 
 life, are altogether hidden ; and instead of that pure and 
 humble form, with her heavenly ornament of a meek and 
 quiet spirit, a Queen stands before us, arrayed in vulgar 
 gold and earthly jewels, a goddess magnificent as any of 
 old. Not, indeed, that the light of Christianity altogether 
 ceased to shine even on that unchristian worship. Never 
 was a purer or more beautiful ideal adored instead of God. 
 All that was beneficent in man, tender and pure in 
 woman, and gracious in God, was concentrated in Mary, 
 mother, maiden, queen ! No sorrow was too minute or 
 too deep to be poured out on that gentle heart ; no work 
 was too mighty for the mother of God to accomplish by 
 her commanding intercession. Pure as the angels, she 
 had the pity of the mother for the fallen child. But 
 beautiful as the image was, it was not divine ; and high 
 as the example was, it was but one-sided — it could not be 
 complete as that of the Son of man. That pe 
 character, and that life of labour and service ; that 
 unflinching courage, untiring energy, and ever ready 
 wisdom, beyond which no man could aspire ; and that 
 patient endurance and overflowing sympathy, deeper than 
 the depths of any woman's heart, were replaced by an 
 ideal which, pure, and lowly, and exalted as it was, could 
 
206 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 not be a model for men, and could be but a negative 
 model for women. The love which could only pity was a 
 weak substitute indeed for the love which had redeemed 
 and would save. Of all the moral evils which were 
 reflected back from this idolatry on the worshipper — the 
 false estimate of woman, the false estimate of married 
 life, and the false thoughts of God — enough cannot easily 
 be said. Beside the worship of Mary grew Monasticism 
 and Chivalry. A negative or a romantic moral ideal took 
 the place of that perfect example which God has given 
 and unfolded to us in the self-sacrificing love, the un- 
 wearying benevolence, and the pity unto death of His 
 own beloved Son. 
 
 And, sadder even yet than this, all the tender and mer- 
 ciful graces of which Mary was looked on as the source 
 and the type were abstracted from the portrait of Jesus, 
 until gradually the infinite and tender pity of His coun- 
 tenance and His words were forgotten, and He stood 
 before the awe-stricken conscience as the stern and aveng- 
 ing Judge. Further yet, all the love and grace were 
 drawn down from the Trinity on the countenance of 
 Mary : the love of the Father was forgotten in the tender- 
 ness of the mother, the redeeming sorrows of the Saviour 
 were eclipsed by the sympathetic sorrows of the pierced 
 heart of Mary, the consolations of the Comforter seemed 
 cold beside the pity of Mary, consolation of the afflicted ! 
 Thus the relations of the three persons of the Godhead 
 towards man were transferred to her. Mary was the 
 mother, the saving intercessor, the true comforter ; and, 
 in proportion as the belief gained ground, the worship of 
 the Trinity itself tended towards becoming merely another 
 
AVE MARIS ST I 207 
 
 ;ry of three distant and divine beings, who hail no 
 distinct anil near ivlati<»i^Iiip t<> man, 0C hid, at least, 
 practically very little U>do with him, but reigned on high 
 thrones far up in to be worshipped on Sin 
 
 and certain holidays, whilst Mary received the first lisp- 
 ing prayer of the child, the morning and evening hymn, 
 the cry of the distressed, and the thanksgiving of the 
 IMWld 
 
 A few specimens from the mediroval Marian hymns 
 may sufficiently illustrate this painfid subject. The trans- 
 lations will be given quite literally in prose, as indications 
 of the ]>erplexities through which the true Christian life 
 of the middle ages had to struggle. 
 
 AVE MARIS 8TELLA. 
 
 Hail ! Star of the sea, tender mother of God, and ever virgin, 
 happy gate of heaven ! 
 
 Receiving that Ave from the mouth of Gabriel, place us in 
 peace, reversing the name of Eva ; 
 
 Dissolve the chains of the guilty, give light to the blind, 
 drive away our evils, request all good things ; 
 
 Shew thyself to be a mother ; let Him receive prayer through 
 thee who for our sakes bore to be thy Son. 
 
 Matchless virgin, gentle beyond all, make us, delivered from 
 our sins, gentle and chaste ; 
 
 Bestow a pure life, prepare a safe way, that, seeing Jesus, we 
 may ever rejoice together ! 
 
 It may be observed that the title " Maris Stella 
 
 thought peculiarly applicable to .Mary, because "the 
 
 gathering together of the waters called He Maria? a 
 
 mystic prophecy of her who should be the fountain of 
 
 g waters. The name of Eva was also deemed a mira- 
 
208 MEDIEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 culous foreshadowing of the angelic Ave which was to 
 reverse the curse of Eve. To such trifling could sacred 
 song be degraded, when it became an amusement for the 
 idleness of monks instead of a cordial for the toils and 
 sorrows of working men and women. 
 
 The celebrated " Stabat Mater Dolorosa " is believed 
 to have been composed in the thirteenth century by- 
 Jacobus de Benedictis, called Jacopone, an Italian noble- 
 man, who, after the sudden death of his wife, became a 
 Franciscan friar, fervently rebuked the vices of the priest* 
 hood, and suffered more than one imprisonment for his 
 daring. 
 
 STABAT MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 The mournful mother stood tearful beside the Cross on 
 which her Son was stretched, her sighing soul, mourning and 
 grieving sore with Him, the cruel sword pierced through. 
 
 O how sad and how afflicted was that blessed mother of the 
 Only Begotten ! how she bewailed, and lamented, and trembled, 
 when she saw the sufferings of her matchless Son ! 
 
 Where the man who would not weep if he saw the mother 
 of Christ in such anguish 1 who would not sympathise, con- 
 templating this tender mother weeping with her Son ? 
 
 For the sins of His people she saw Jesus in torments and 
 subjected to stripes. She saw her sweet Son dying forsaken 
 whilst He yielded up His spirit. 
 
 Ah mother, fountain of love ! make me feel the force of grief, 
 that I may mourn with thee ; make my heart burn in loving 
 Christ my God, that I may please Him ! 
 
 Holy mother, accomplish this. Engrave the wounds of the 
 Crucified deep in my heart ; let me share the sufferings of thy 
 wounded Son thus deigning to suffer for me. 
 
 Make me truly weep with thee, mourn with the Crucified as 
 
8TABAT MATER DOLOROSA. 209 
 
 long as I shall live ; to stand with thee by the Cross, n 
 associated with thee in mourning, this I 
 
 Virgin of virgins illustrious, be not now bitter to me, make 
 HM mourn with thee, make me carry about the death of 
 I \ make me a sharer in His passion, adoring His suf- 
 
 Let me be wounded with those wounds; let me be blessed 
 in the Cross, with the love of the Son enkindled and burn- 
 ing ; by Thee, gracious One, may I be defended in the day of 
 eni 
 
 O Christ, when I go hence, give me, through Thy mother, 
 to attain the i>alm of victory ; when my body shall die, let my 
 soul be given to the glory of paradise. 
 
 There is something so touching in the thought of stand- 
 ith the mother of Jesus beside His cross, that, at 
 first sight, it might not strike us how deep the idolatry 
 of this hymn is; how perverted the devotion must be, 
 which, even beside the cross of the Redeemer, in the 
 hour of His dying agony for us, could turn aside from 
 Him to any created being, and be content to look at Him 
 who gave Himself for us only through the pierced heart 
 of the mournful motlu-r. 
 
 The deepest depth of this Mariolatry seems, however, to 
 be reached, when psalms and hymns written in honour of 
 God are actually transferred to Mary. This was, unhap- 
 pily, done with some of the psalms, and, in more than one 
 version, with the " Te Deum." One of these parodies on 
 the " Te Deum" may be translated. It is selected by 
 . instead of the version by Buonaventura given by 
 1, as adhering more closely to the original, with the 
 title of the Marian Te Deum. 
 o 
 
210 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 THE MARIAN TE DEUM. 
 
 We praise thee, Mother : we acknowledge thee to be tho 
 Virgin. 
 
 Thee, Star of the Sea, the splendour of the Eternal Father 
 illuminates. 
 
 To thee all Angels cry aloud, the Heavens and all the Powers 
 therein. 
 
 The Cherubim and Seraphim, with us, with lowly voices pro- 
 claim, 
 
 Virgin, Virgin, Virgin of virgins, without peer : 
 
 Before the birth (of Jesus), during the birth, and after the 
 birth. 
 
 Thee, glorious Virgin, the ranks of Apostles and Prophets 
 praise. 
 
 Thee the Martyrs testify to be the mother of their Lord. 
 
 The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge 
 thee 
 
 Mother of an infinite Majesty, 
 
 Venerated Bride of God, knowing not man, conceiving only 
 by the Holy Spirit. 
 
 Thou art the Queen of Heaven, thou art the Mistress of the 
 whole world. 
 
 Thou, to deliver fallen man, didst clothe in flesh the Son of 
 the Highest ; 
 
 When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou 
 didst bring forth the Life from thy glorious womb. 
 
 Thou art the Mother of the Son who sitteth at the right 
 hand of God, who is the Judge of quick and dead. 
 
 We therefore pray thee, help the servants of Christ, re- 
 deemed by the precious Fruit of thy womb ; 
 
 Make them to be numbered with thy saints in glory ever- 
 lasting. 
 
 Lady, save thy people: let the heritage of Christ be 
 saved by thee. 
 
Till. IE DEUX. I'll 
 
 Govern them, rod lift them op for ever. 
 
 Day by day we bless thee, and praise the name of the 
 est, who made thee highest. 
 
 Oh, most worthy of all praise, deign to be praised by the most 
 unworthy. 
 
 Have mercy upon us, Lady, Mother of Mercy. 
 
 Let the mercy of thy Son be upon us, Lady, on us who 
 call on Him. 
 
 In thee, O Lady, have I trusted ; let me never be con- 
 founded. 
 
 Yet, melancholy as the profanity of this composition is, 
 these isolated extravagances are of little moment compared 
 with the blasphemy against the love of God involved in the 
 whole worship of Mary ; for what was it, or, indeed, the 
 whole system of a propitiatory human priesthood which 
 grew up beside it, but a return to the old, bitter blasphemy 
 of Eden, that God is reluctant to bestow blessings on His 
 creatures % — a blasphemy which even the Cross failed to 
 silence ! This falsehood, rooted so deeply in the fallen 
 nature of man, gathering strength from the heritage of sin 
 to which it led, darkens many even of the best of the medi- 
 liymns. The Cross itself was shadowed by it, and 
 seems to have been regarded too much as a costly purchase 
 of a liberation from a severe Judge, rather than as the 
 costly Sacrifice made by the Father to save His perishing 
 creatures. Thus the bodily torture of Calvary was dwelt 
 on, rather than its redeeming love. Few indeed of these 
 hymns rise to the full height of the gospel, and gaze with 
 childlike confidence on the Father as the Cheerful ( 
 of all good gifts, the infinitely loving Giver of the unspeak- 
 able Gift; few fathom the depths of the parable of the 
 
212 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 prodigal son. Yet, although, few of them rise to the 
 conscious liberty of the redeemed, many soar uncon- 
 sciously into the pure element of joy, only by gazing on 
 the face of Jesus ; and many more fly with a trembling 
 hope from the Judgment Throne to the Cross, taking 
 refuge from the Judge with Himself — safe, indeed, there ! 
 And how blessed to wake and find such a look on that 
 face as the sinful woman who bathed His feet saw there, 
 when He said, "Go in peace ! " or the Magdalene at the 
 sepulchre; or Peter in that untold interview after the 
 resurrection, when none were present but himself and 
 the Lord he had denied, yet loved, deeply as that Lord 
 only knew ! 
 
 With the apprehension of the love of God was lost the 
 sense of His justice. Instead of the confident and most 
 blessed assurance that God has provided a ransom for us, 
 that His irrevocable law is satisfied, and His whole heart 
 set on blessing man, crept in the faint hope that His justice 
 might one day yield a little to His mercy, and that so a 
 few might struggle into heaven. 
 
 It was precisely at this point that the mediation of 
 Mary was presented, and was clung to with desperate 
 tenacity. Of her motherly tenderness, it was thought, 
 there could be no doubt, whatever might be entertained 
 of the love of the Father or the grace of the Saviour. 
 Thus, in many instances, the Enemy's point was gained. 
 Again fallen Adam fled from God, and, shrinking away 
 too far to catch even an echo of the promises which pur- 
 sued him, heard only the thunders of the law, saw only 
 the flaming sword, and, fleeing further and further into 
 the darkness, took refuge in a woman's pity, or, rather, 
 
MART, QUEEN OP in 141 213 
 
 in a shadowy vision of the ni^ht. For all the while, was 
 not, and is not, her happy spirit in 
 
 all i he forgiven "spirits of the just made perfect," learning 
 
 t \rr more and more of that tender and patient and lil< - 
 
 kg love which the "exiled sons of Eve" were flying 
 
 from, not to her peaceful spirit, but to her empty name ! 
 
 This superstition grew indeed but slowly to its full 
 
 t. Century after century added some stones to that 
 altar, and it was not until the latest ages that the form, 
 once known only as the joyful mother with the infant 
 Saviour in her arms, or the mournful mother weeping by 
 the cross, was altogether dissociated from Him, and stood 
 alone, as we now see it on the facade of Italian churches, 
 a Crowned Queen, with her hands outstretched to bless, 
 concentrating on her person all the glory of the Trinity 
 
 . and all the adoration of humanity below. Would, 
 
 1, that this were only the picture of an obsolete re- 
 ligion, that these Marian hymns were only fossil speci- 
 mens of an extinct idolatry ! Luther struck at the root 
 of this and all other superstitions, when he proclaimed 
 that God is revealed to us in the Bible, not as an Exactor 
 of vengeance, but as a Saviour and a Forgiver of sins. 
 And in proportion as we keep a firm grasp on this truth 
 — which Luther said it is so easy to preach, and so hard to 
 hold, when the enemy assails the soul with his old lie — 
 shall we be kept from all gloomy parodies of the true 
 religion, and enabled to walk in light and liberty. The 
 only true message from heaven is a gospel, the only safe 
 way is the way of peace. Nothing but the full convic- 
 tion of this free love of God, giving " His Son," " Him- 
 
 foT us, will ever make us faithful servants, contented 
 
214 MEDIAEVAL RELIGION. 
 
 sufferers, and cheerful givers. Nothing but this is the 
 antidote to selfishness, and the secret of a life of com- 
 munion -with God. Nothing but this will make our 
 prayers and praises what the services of the temple 
 where the Son of God is the High Priest should be ; no 
 longer the agonising cry of doubt, or solitary " spiritual 
 exercises," or the complacent self-congratulations of the 
 Pharisee, but the submissive asking from a Father of 
 blessings He delights to give, the joyful lifting up of 
 hearts, whose praises, offered in Him who is their Source 
 and Theme, are fragrant incense in heaven. 
 
OF GERMANY. 21. J 
 
 CHAPTER X. • 
 
 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 No mere improvement in correctness of doctrine could 
 have stirred the heart of Europe as the Reformation did. 
 The assertion of the "right of private judgment" might 
 have shattered Christendom with a war of independence, 
 but could not have brought peace to one heart. Had not 
 the Serpent asserted it long ago in Eden ? The clearest 
 statements of the doctrine of justification by faith could 
 not in themselves have swept away all the barriers super- 
 stition had been building up for centuries between man 
 and God. Many of the theologians of the middle ages 
 seem to have understood that doctrine. The Reforma- 
 tion was not the mere statement of a positive dogma, 
 still less was it the mere assertion of a negative right ; it 
 was the revealing of a Person, it was the unveiling of a 
 heart. It was the fresh revelation through the Bible to 
 the heart of one man, and through him to the hearts of 
 thousands, that " God is love," and " hath so loved the 
 world," that a heart of infinite love embraces us on every 
 side, and rules in heaven. It was the fresh declaration 
 to sinful men that the terrible reality of sin, which 
 forms the barrier between the sinner and the Holy One, 
 has been swept away by the sacrifice God Himself has 
 
216 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 provided ; not the offering of man, but " the Lamb of 
 God, who takes away the sin of the world," the Son of 
 God who reveals the Father. 
 
 Before this gospel all the systems of human priesthood 
 and saintly intercession, indulgences, meritorious self- 
 torture, fell in pieces, not like a fortress painfully battered 
 down, but like dreams when daylight comes, like a mis- 
 understanding between friends who have been slandered 
 to one another, in a minute's interview. Purchased indul- 
 gences to defend us from the anger of a Father ; men, 
 strangers to us, to intercede with Him who beseeches us 
 to be reconciled ; painful penances to wring forgiveness 
 of sins from Him who died that we might be justly for- 
 given ; — all these fade into nothingness before that won- 
 drous message of love. 
 
 One perusal of Luther's " Commentary on the Epistle 
 to the Galatians," with all its exaggerations and its pas- 
 sionate vehemence, may give us a more true and living 
 idea of what the Reformation was, than libraries of 
 histories of its causes and disquisitions about its effects. 
 
 " Christ's victory," he writes, " is the overcoming of the 
 law, of sin, our flesh, the world, the devil, death, hell, 
 and all evils; and this victory He hath given unto us." 
 "Although, then, that these tyrants and these enemies 
 of ours do accuse us and make us afraid, yet can they not 
 drive us to despair, nor condemn us, for Christ, whom 
 God the Father hath raised from the dead, is our right- 
 eousness and victory." 
 
 Again, on the words, "Who hath given Himself for 
 our sins," he writes (referring to the efforts of Satan to 
 drive us to despair on account of our sins), "Against 
 
217 
 
 this temptation we urge these words of the Apostle, 
 in the whkh he gives a very good and true definition 
 
 it in this manin t is the Son of Got 1 
 
 of the Virgin, <hlivercd and put to death for our sins.' 
 Here, if the devil urge any other definition of Christ, say 
 thou, The definition and the thing defined are false. I 
 speak not this without cause, for I know what orgeth me 
 to be so earnest, that we should learn to deli 
 out of the words of Paul. For, indeed, Christ is no cruel 
 Exactor, but a Forgiver of the sins of the whole world. 
 Whei thou be a sinner, as indeed we all are, set 
 
 not Christ down upon the rainbow as a Judge, lest thou 
 shouldst bo terrified and despair of His mercy, but take 
 hold of this tme definition, namely, that Christ, the Son 
 of God and of the Virgin, is a Person, not that terrifieth, 
 not that alllicteth, not that condemneth us of sin, not 
 that demandeth of us an account for our life evil passed, 
 but hath given Himself for our sins, and with one obla- 
 tion hath put away the sins of the whole world, hath 
 fastened them upon the Cross, and put them clean out by 
 Himself." " Hold this fast, and sutfer not thyself 1 >; 
 means to be drawn away from this most sweet dt finition 
 of Christ, which rejoiceth even the very angels in heaven, 
 that is to say, that Christ, according to the true definition, 
 is no Moses, no lawgiver, no tyrant, but a Mediator for 
 sins — a free Giver of grace, righteousness, and life." 
 
 And again, " Thus I define Him rightly and take hold 
 of the true Christ, and possess Him indeed. And 
 I let pass all curious speculations touching the ]> 
 Majesty, and stay myself in the humanity of Christ, and 
 so I learn truly to know the will of God. Here then is no 
 
218 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 fear, but altogether sweetness, joy, and peace of conscience. 
 And herewithal there is a light opened, which sheweth 
 nie the true knowledge of God, of myself, of all creatures, 
 and of all the iniquity of the devil's kingdom." 
 
 Was not this the secret of Luther's Reformation ? It 
 was the true definition of Christ, the fresh revealing of 
 His glorious person. It was no mere statement that the 
 proceedings in the court of heaven are conducted on such 
 and such principles ; it was the declaration that it is the 
 devil and not God who is against us, that we sinners, 
 assailed and ensnared as we are by a real and personal 
 enemy, have a personal and most loving friend in God 
 Himself, who became man to seek us lost, and died to 
 save us perishing. It was this gospel which stirred the 
 heart of Christendom then, and gave peace to be vvildered 
 John Bunyan (when he read it in Luther's own words) a 
 hundred years afterwards, and can set us free to-day; 
 fresh, loving words, eternally new, fresh as when they were 
 spoken eighteen hundred years ago to the publicans and 
 sinners of those days. 
 
 Again, Luther wrote, " Wherefore the law doth nothing 
 but utter sin, terrify and humble, and by this means pre- 
 pareth us for justification and draweth us to Christ. For 
 God hath revealed unto us by His Word that He will be 
 unto us a merciful Father, and without our deserts (seeing 
 we can deserve nothing) will freely give unto us remission 
 of sins, righteousness, and life everlasting, for Christ His 
 Son's sake. For God giveth His gifts freely unto all 
 men, and that is the praise and glory of His Divinity." 
 
 Again, " Christ, then, is no Moses, no exactor, no giver 
 of laws, but a Giver of grace, a Saviour, and One that is 
 
ton 
 
 full of meny; briefly, He is nothing else but infinite 
 
 v and goodness, freely,- I bountifully giving 
 
 l thus shall yon paint out Christ in Eii 
 right colours. If you suffer Him any otherwise to be 
 painted out unto you, when temptation and trouble 
 cometh you shall soon bo overthrown. Now, as it is the 
 greatest knowledge and cunning that Christians can have 
 thus to define Christ, so of all things it is the hardest. 
 For I myself, even in this great light of the gospel, 
 
 in 1 have been so long exercised, have much ado 
 to hold this definition of Christ which Paul here giveth ; 
 so deeply hath the doctrine and pestilent opinion that 
 I t is a Lawgiver entered even as it were oil in my 
 bones. Ye young men, therefore, are in this case much 
 more happy than we that are old. For ye are not in- 
 fected with these pernicious errors, wherein I have been 
 so nursed and drowned even from my youth, that, at the 
 very hearing of the name of Christ, my heart hath 
 trembled and quaked for fear ; for I was persuaded that 
 He was a severe Judge. Wherefore, it is tome a double 
 
 il and trouble to correct and reform this evil : first, 
 to forget, to condemn, and to resist this old-grounded error 
 that Christ is a Lawgiver and a Judge, for it always 
 
 ueth and plucketh me back; then to plant in my 
 heart a new and a true persuasion of Christ that He is a 
 Justifier and a Saviour. Ye, I say, that are young may 
 learn with much less difficulty to know Christ purely and 
 sincerely, if ye will. Wherefore, if any man feel himself 
 oppressed with heaviness and anguish of heart, he nratt 
 not impute it unto Christ, although it come under the 
 name of Christ, but unto the devil, who oftentimes 
 
220 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 cometli under the colour of Christ, and transform eth 
 himself into an angel of light. Let us learn, therefore, 
 to put a difference between Christ and a lawgiver, not 
 only in word, but also in deed and in practice ; that 
 -when the devil comes under the shadow of Christ, and 
 shall go about to trouble us under His name, we may 
 know him not to be Christ, but a very fiend indeed. For 
 Christ, when He cometh, is nothing else but joy and 
 sweetness to a trembling and broken heart, as here Paul 
 witnesseth, who setteth Him out with His most sweet 
 and comfortable title when he saith, ' Which loved me, 
 and gave Himself for me.' Christ, therefore, in very deed 
 is a lover of those which are in trouble and anguish, in 
 sin and death ; such a lover as gave Himself for us, who 
 is also our High Priest, that is to say, a Mediator between 
 God and us miserable and wretched sinners." Again, 
 " I am covered under the shadow of Christ's wings, as is 
 the chicken under the wing of the hen, and dwell, with- 
 out all fear, under that most ample heaven of the forgive- 
 ness of sins." Again, " Feeling Thy terrors, O Lord, I 
 plunge my conscience in the wounds, blood, death, resur- 
 rection, and victory of my Saviour, Christ. Beside Him 
 I will see nothing, I will hear nothing." 
 
 These extracts are given thus at length as enfolding 
 the Reformation. Such books have the essence of a life 
 pressed into them, and it was from such a fountain that 
 the rich streams of G erman hymns flowed. It was morning 
 again in Germany, and, to welcome such a morning, it was 
 no wonder that there poured forth such a chorus of song. 
 
 The hymn literature of Germany is too rich to be given 
 an idea of in the fragment of a book, and many admirable 
 
HYMNS Of THE REFOUV 
 
 translations Lave already appeared, to which the reader 
 may easily nte TIhto is, besides, a peculiar freshness 
 and purity, an uuxmsokmi power and sublimity in these 
 hymns, which make their translation peculiarly difficult 
 Simplicity in a translation is apt to look conscious, and 
 so to become that worst of affectations, the affectation of 
 simplicity. A wry lew illustrations, therefore, must 
 suffice for this volume, with a brief sketch of the general 
 icter of the hymns and their writers. 
 In comparing these with those of the middle ages, the 
 first thing that strikes us is the far greater variety in 
 the subjects of the hymns and the position of the wi 
 Sacred song has issued again from the narrow walls of 
 the cloister to the workshop, the harvest-field, and the 
 home. There are hymns for various family joys and 
 family sorrows, hymns for toil and for battle, for the sick- 
 bed and the wayside, 
 
 ecially numerous are those which express trust in 
 God in trial or conflict, which speak of Him, like the old 
 Hebrew psalms, as a Rock, a Fortress, and a Deliverer. 
 Spiritual songs have once more become battle-songs. The 
 intricate intertwinings of rhyme and the lingering ca- 
 dences of the later mediaeval hymns vanish, and the inspi- 
 riting decision of martial music rings through them once 
 more. They are songs to march to, reviving the fainting 
 strength after many an hour of weary journeying; blasts 
 of the priests' trumpets, before which many a stronghold 
 has fallen ; chants of trust and of triumph, which must 
 often have reverberated from the very gates of heaven 
 as they accompanied the departing spirit thither, and 
 mingled with the new song of the great multitude insida 
 
222 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 Tke hymns of Germany have been her true national 
 Liturgy. In England the worship of the Reformed 
 Church was linked to that of past ages by the prayer- 
 book ; in Germany by the hymn-book. The music and 
 the hymns of the mediaeval Church were not separated 
 by so definite a barrier from the psalmody of the German 
 Evangelical Churches as from ours, but floated on into 
 it, the old blending with the new. The miner's son, who 
 in his school-days had carolled for bread before the door 
 of the burghers of Eisenach, remembered the old melodies 
 when the hearts of his people were looking to him for 
 the " bread which satisfieth," and gave forth out of his 
 treasure-house things new and old. The great Reformer 
 of the German Church was also her first great singer. 
 Luther gave the German people their hymn-book as well 
 as their Bible. He brought over some of the best old 
 hymns into the new worship, not word by word in the 
 ferry-boat of a literal translation, but entire and living, 
 like Israel through the Jordan, when the priests' feet, bear- 
 ing the ark, swept back the waters. 
 
 Yet, as in his theses affixed to the church-doors at 
 Wittenberg, so in his hymns, Luther seems to have had 
 no plan of writing for a nation, but simply to have spoken 
 out the irrepressible emotions and overpowering convic- 
 tions of his own heart, come of it what might. " Here 
 stand I, I can no other ; God help me, Amen," breathes 
 through his hymns as well as his confession. The great 
 battle-song of the German Church — his " Eine feste Burg " 
 — was said to have come into his heart on his way to the 
 Diet at Worms. Its truths were certainly there then, 
 whatever antiquarian research may prove about the date 
 
; ;ii:i:"s in | 
 
 when they were written down. "Out of the dej>; I 
 cry to Thee,** he sang when recovering from a fainting- 
 fit, 1 nought on by the intensity of spiritual conflict; and 
 when at last his dead body was borne through Halle, on 
 its way to its last resting-place at Wittenberg, his country- 
 men thronged into the church where it was laid, and, 
 amidst their tears and sobs, sung the hymn beside it. 
 His sweet Christmas hymn, "Vom Himmel Loch da 
 komm ich her," was written for his little son Hans. 
 " The poet had the child's heart in his breast." From 
 the old Latin psalmody he gave a free rhymed translation 
 of the " Te Deum " and several of the Ambrosian hymns. 
 The funeral hymn, "Media in vita in morte snni 
 composed by Notker, a monk of St Gall, a.d. 900 (the 
 first line of which appears in our burial-service), he 
 poured forth anew in three verses, and infused into it a 
 tone of confidence and hope very faintly audible in the 
 original. 
 
 Just as the first recorded hymn of the Church was called 
 forth by the first persecution, when the place was shaken 
 where the disciples were met, and they were all " filled 
 with the Holy Ghost," it is interesting to find that 
 Luther's first hymn was called forth by the death of two 
 martyrs of Christ, " burnt at Brussels by the Sophists." 
 
 The hymn of his, of which a translation is given at 
 the close of this chapter, is in the early hymn-books 
 
 * This bymn may be thus translated : — 
 
 M In the midst of life we are in death ; 
 What helper shall we seek but Thee, O Lord, 
 Who art justly incensed against our sins ! 
 Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy and Merciful Saviour, 
 Deliver us not to bitter death!- 
 
2-4 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 called " An Evangelical Hymn, to be sung before or after 
 the sermon ;" and in one of those books, " An Evangelical 
 Song, very comforting to the sinner." In the original, 
 every verse of it seems at once to tremble with tears of 
 joy, and to ring with the peal of victory. 
 
 To give a series of biographies of German hymn-writers 
 would be to write the church history of Germany. To 
 the three thousand and sixty-six hymns selected in the 
 " Liederschatz" of Albert Knapp is appended a list of four 
 hundred writers, with brief biographical notices of each. 
 It is this multiplicity of hymn- writers which, in regard- 
 ing hymns as the voice of Christian life, gives its great 
 interest to German hymnology. The German hymn- 
 book is no mere series of metrical compositions, compiled 
 by a few orthodox divines ; nor is it a collection of the 
 religious poems of a few poets. It is the utterance of the 
 heart of the German Church, of those whom faith in Him 
 who is invisible has made singers. It is emphatically a 
 fragment of the great song of the Church universal. For 
 the first time in the history of hymns, since Mary the 
 mother of Jesus sang her song of joy, the names of women 
 appear among the singers. Louisa Henrietta, born Prin- 
 cess of Orange, wife of the Great Elector, Frederick 
 William of Brandenburg, poured out her hope and trust 
 in a Resurrection Hymn, which, as a rock of faith, stands 
 beside the hymns of Luther himself, or Paul Gerhard. 
 During the two hundred years which have .elapsed since 
 the Christian princess breathed her heart into those verses, 
 how many souls have been breathed out to God with its 
 words falling from the dying lips! A translation is 
 attempted in this volume. 
 
SBBMAN HYMN-WKITKUS. 
 
 In the biographical list of writers given by All < it 
 K mi] ] >, many names occur in strange juxtaposition. Re- 
 formed and Lutheran are there, sido by side, singing parts 
 of the same song ; those who suffered for Lutheranism, 
 ami those who suffered for Calvinism, and also those who 
 c« >nt ended for both — though, probably, more of the sufferers 
 than the combatants. Too often the choir of the Chun h 
 on earth is built like the chapels of prisons on the sepa- 
 rate system; each worshipper is walled out from Lis 
 hour. In these hymn-books (as we believe it will 
 be in heaven) the barriers are broken down, and we see 
 Luther sitting contentedly beside an Anabaptist, and a 
 Roman Catholic mystic, such as Angelus,* by a Reformed 
 divine. 
 
 In the list referred to (at the end of Albert Knapp's 
 "Liederschatz"), between the names of the Electress 
 Louisa Henrietta and the Countess Ludamiilia Elizabeth 
 of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt, occurs that of Lowenstern, 
 "a saddlers son;" then Dr Martin Luther; a little below, 
 Maria, Queen of Hungary, Melancthon, and Joachim 
 Neander, Calvinistic preacher at Bremen. 
 
 Among the names otherwise distinguished are those of 
 Fmnke, founder of the Orphan House at Halle, Arndt, 
 Claudius, the Moravian missionary, Leonhard Dober, who 
 offered to be sold as a slave in order to preach to the 
 slaves in the West Indies, Klopstock, the Krummachers, 
 Lavater, the Margrave Albert of Brandenburg, Spener, 
 Novalis, De la Motte Fouqug, many noblemen and 
 ladies of rank, and the great Gustavus. 
 
 * Most of the hymns of Angelas were, however, according to Albert 
 Knapp, written while he was still a Protestant 
 
 P 
 
226 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 Among the most distinguished names of those known 
 chiefly through their hymns are Paul Gerhard, Gerhard 
 Tersteegen, Angelus, Schmolke, and Hiller. Of these 
 Paul Gerhard is held to be the greatest. He lived in the 
 seventeenth century, in Saxony and Prussia, and died a.d. 
 1676, at the age of seventy, after a life of many outward 
 trials and intense inward conflicts, of which (Albert 
 Knapp writes) one of his contemporaries said, "they 
 would naturally have caused him rather to cry with pain 
 than to sing." No doubt it is the suppressed cry of pain 
 which gives the peculiar depth to his song of victory. One 
 of his most beautiful hymns — " Wake up, my heart, and 
 sing" — was composed on the steps of the altar at Liibben, 
 after a night of anguish. Every line of it breathes the 
 deepest trust and peace. Like St Paul, he comforted 
 others with the comfort wherewith he himself had been 
 comforted of God ! Like so many who have borne the 
 most cheering messages to the Church, the consoler had 
 first been the sufferer. This kind of song is only 
 learned on the battle-field. You feel in every verse of 
 Gerhard's that his is proved armour. 
 
 The hymns of Tersteegen, one of which is the well- 
 known " Thou hidden love of God," are more quiet and 
 meditative. He lived, in the beginning of the eighteenth 
 century, a life of deep, still communion with God, choos- 
 ing the occupation of a ribbon-maker on account of its 
 tranquillity, and, from his humble home, shed a blessed 
 influence over great numbers who sought his counsel. 
 His light seems to have shone and been diffused, not by 
 express effort, but simply because he dwelt himself so 
 much in the light. His piety was the fountain of his 
 
IAN IIVMNOLOOT. 
 
 poetry, and the deep beauty of his heavenly thoughts 
 glows through the rudeness of the earthen vessel which 
 holds them. He died at Muhlheim on the Ruhr, a.d. 1 
 at the age of seventy-six. 
 
 The German hymns range through three centuries, but 
 may be divided into three principal groups, linked to- 
 gether by many scattered compositions which intervene, 
 and seem to carry on the one unbroken song. These 
 groups would naturally concentrate round the periods of 
 the Reformation, the great religious struggle of the Thirty 
 Years' War, and the revival of religion in the days of 
 Franke and Zinzendorf through the earlier half of the 
 eighteenth century. 
 
 To the first period belong about twenty Jiymn wri 
 gathering round Luther as the leader of the choir. In 
 our English hymn-books we have not one composition 
 corresponding with this earliest burst of German song. 
 This primary formation, with its massive strength and 
 its mountain ranges, upheaved by the great inward fire 
 of the Reformation, is with us altogether wanting, 
 the deficiency is significant. The Reformation reached 
 our country at first only in vibrations from the great 
 central movement in Saxony. Before the evangelical 
 faith had struck root in the heart of the nation Maiy 
 ascended the throne. Then, from one country town to 
 another, the gospel was spread from the stakes of the 
 few who were ready to die for it. Our martyrology pre- 
 ceded our hymn-book. During Elizabeth's reign the 
 newly-recovered Bible, with its inspired psalms and 
 hymns, and the old Prayer-book, in which Collect and 
 Te Deum now shone forth again disencumbered of the 
 
228 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 errors which had hidden them, and, unveiled from their 
 foreign disguise, seemed enough for the wants of the 
 people. And thus our Protestant hymn literature is at 
 least a century less ancient than that of Germany. 
 
 The next great group of German hymns may be 
 gathered around Paul Gerhard, and includes the period of 
 the Thirty Years' War, when Germany was torn asunder 
 not only by the great religious war between Gustavus 
 Adolphus and the Emperor, but by bitter internal dissen- 
 sions between Lutheran and Calvinist, — devastated by the 
 fierce and lawless soldiery of Tilly and Wallenstein, and 
 the famine and pestilence which followed, like vultures, in 
 their train. It was a time of almost unparalleled misery 
 for Germany, and was also her richest harvest-time 
 for sacred song. In number, the known hymn writers of 
 the seventeenth century were more than a hundred; a list 
 which, allowing for the perspective of time, may be consi- 
 derably larger than the hundred and sixty of the succeed- 
 ing century. The distance of two centuries gradually 
 drops below the horizon all but the higher summits of the 
 range, so that the hundred may probably represent twice 
 the number. 
 
 Amidst wasted lands and bloody battle-fields, and 
 from homes smitten by worse desolations, the song of 
 faith and hope rose steadily up to God, in tones which 
 only grew deeper as everything on earth grew darker. 
 To this century belong the names of Angelus and Paul 
 Gerhard, the David of the German psalter. 
 
 Corresponding to this group, we have in England the 
 names of George Herbert, Richard Baxter, and Bishop 
 Ken, 
 
MOR.U IAN II V 220 
 
 Through the latter half of the seventeenth and the 
 commencement of the eighteenth century, Spener began, 
 amidst much opposition, his collegia pietatis, or meetings 
 of Christians for reading the Scriptures and prayer. 1 1<- 
 wrote many hymns; and after him followed Jacob Franke, 
 that man of faith who, without pecuniary resources of 
 his own, built the Orphan House of Halle, and was the 
 source of spiritual blessings to so many. Then came 
 Count Zinzendorf, his young heart glowing with love to 
 Christ, setting apart in his estate, near Dresden, a house 
 of refuge (Herrnhut) for the exiled Protestants of Bo- 
 hemia and Moravia ; with all the wide-spread harvest of 
 good which sprang from that offering, — missions in the 
 West Indies and Greenland, and the revival of the mis- 
 sionary spirit everywhere. 
 
 The deep love to his Master which was Count Zinzen- 
 dorf s one characteristic glows in his hymns, some of 
 which were improvised by him in the public services of 
 the Church, like the spiritual songs of earlier days. The 
 Moravian brethren lived in an atmosphere of music and 
 song more than any other branch of the Church, and no 
 doubt some of their hymns cannot be acquitted from the 
 charge of childishness and sentimental exaggeration; but 
 the emotions which were tempered by practical activity 
 such as theirs must continually have been brought back 
 to a healthy tone. The hearts which poured forth their 
 love on earth in such missions as the Moravians began 
 and patiently carried on, could not but have poured forth 
 their devotions to heaven in deep and genuine praises. 
 When the work was so real, the song which cheered it 
 must, in the main, have been genuine and healthy; and 
 
230 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 although there is in these hymns of the eighteenth century 
 more of a subjective character than in the two earlier 
 groups (especially than in that of the Reformation), more 
 dwelling on the feelings of the worshipper, yet these feel- 
 ings seem to have been true in nature and object. 
 
 During this period Tersteegen continued to sing his 
 tranquil, contemplative songs, dwelling apart and bathing 
 his spirit in the depths of the "hidden love of God." 
 His hymns, however, can scarcely be said to belong cha- 
 racteristically to any period. 
 
 Contemporary, in England, with this band of singers, 
 were the Wesleys, Toplady, Cowper, Newton, and many 
 others connected with the evangelical revival of the 
 eighteenth century. 
 
 The six hymns selected for translation at the close of 
 this chapter are taken from these three periods. One is 
 by Luther, one by the Electress Louisa Henrietta of 
 Brandenburg, three by Paul Gerhard, and one by Count 
 Zinzendorf. The one by Luther seems (in the original) 
 to contain, pressed into it, the history of a lifetime, to be 
 the essence of that " Commentary on the Galatians " which 
 contained, as it were, the essence of Luther's life. The 
 hymn of Paul Gerhard on the " Passion," and that of the 
 Electress on the " Resurrection of the Just," have been 
 chosen partly by way of comparison with the mediaeval 
 hymns on the same subjects, to illustrate the greater tone 
 of conscious liberation and joy in evangelical than in 
 mediaeval devotion ; the truer response in the Protestant 
 hymns to the words of our Lord, when he said, " These 
 things have I spoken unto you that my joy may remain 
 in you, and that your joy may be full." 
 
I ikrA hymn on "God's Providential Care*' has 
 been selected as giving the key-note to all his hymns, and 
 to his life of conflict and victory. The hymn on " Heaven," 
 by Gerhard,* is given on account of its deep view of the 
 happiness of heaven, as consisting in seeing the face of 
 God. 
 
 And finally, the hymn by Count Zinzendorf has been 
 chosen because (like the previous hymn of Luther's, and 
 that on the " Passion," by Paul Gerhard) it traces back 
 our redemption to the deep fountain of the love of the 
 Father, and, while penetrated with the absolute need of 
 an expiatory sacrifice, in order that the lost may be saved, 
 dwells on that sacrifice as made by God HimselC 
 
 A SONG OP PRAISE FOR THE GREAT BENEFITS WHICH GOD HAS 
 MANIFESTED TO US IN CHRIBT.t 
 
 (Nunfreut euch lieben Christen g'rnein) 
 
 1. 
 
 Dear Christian people, all rejoice, 
 
 Each soul with joy upspringing ; 
 Pour forth one song with heart and voice, 
 
 With love and gladness singing. 
 Give thanks to God, our Lord above, 
 Thanks for His miracle of love ! 
 
 Dearly He hath redeem'd us ! 
 
 2. 
 The devil's captive, bound I lay, 
 Lay in death's chains forlorn ; 
 
 * Tbia is translated from a hymn in Albert Knapp's collection, Raid to 
 be " after Gerhard. n 
 t Luther's own title, 
 
232 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 My sins distress'd me night and day, 
 
 The sin within me born : 
 I could not do the thing I would, 
 In all my life was nothing good, 
 
 Sin had possess'd me wholly. 
 
 3. 
 
 My good works could no comfort shed, 
 Worthless must they be rated ; 
 
 My free-will to all good was dead, 
 And God's just judgments hated. 
 
 Me of all hope my sins bereft ; 
 
 Nothing but death to me was left, 
 
 And death was hell's dark portal. 
 
 4. 
 Then God saw, with deep pity moved, 
 
 My grief that knew no measure ; 
 Pitying He saw, and freely loved, — 
 
 To save me was His pleasure. 
 The Father's heart to me was stirr'd, 
 He saved me with no sovereign word, — 
 His very best it cost Him. 
 
 5. 
 
 He spoke to His Beloved Son, 
 "With infinite compassion : 
 " Go hence, my heart's most precious crown, 
 Be to the lost salvation. 
 Death, his relentless tyrant, stay, 
 And bear him from his sins away 
 With Thee to live for ever ! " 
 
 6. 
 
 Willing the Son took that behest : 
 Born of a maiden mother, 
 
To His own earth He came a guest, 
 
 And made Himself my brother. 
 All secretly He went His way, 
 Veil'd in my mortal flesh He lay, 
 
 And thus the Foe He vauiuiish'J. 
 
 7. 
 
 He said to me, "Cling close to Mo, 
 Thy sorrows now are ending ; 
 
 Freely I give Myself for thee, 
 Thy life with Mine defending. 
 
 For I am thine and thou art Mine, 
 
 And where I am there thou shalt shine, 
 The Foe shall never reach us. 
 
 8. 
 " True, he will shed my heart's life-blood, 
 And torture me to death ; 
 All this I suffer for thy good — 
 This hold with firmest faith. 
 Death dieth through My life divine ; 
 I, sinless, bear those sins of thine ; 
 And so shalt thou be rescued. 
 
 9. 
 
 u I rise again to heaven from hence, 
 High to My Father soaring, 
 Thy Master there to be, and thence 
 
 My Spirit on thee pouring : 
 In every grief to comfort thee, 
 And teach thee more and more of Me, 
 Into all truth still guiding. 
 
 10. 
 a What I have done and taught on earth, 
 Do thou, and teach, none dreading ; 
 
234 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 That so God's kingdom may go forth, 
 And His high praise be spreading ; 
 And guard thee from the words of men, 
 Lest the great joy be lost again : 
 
 This My last charge I leave thee." 
 
 THE LAMB OF GOD. 
 BY PAUL GERHARD. 
 
 (Ein Lammlein, geht und tragt die Schuld.) 
 
 1. 
 
 A Lamb goes uncomplaining forth, 
 
 The guilt of all men bearing ; 
 Laden with all the sin of earth, 
 
 None else the burden sharing! 
 Goes patient on, grows weak and faint, 
 To slaughter led without complaint, 
 
 That spotless life to offer ; 
 Bears shame, and stripes, and wounds, and death, 
 Anguish and mockery, and saith, 
 
 " Willing all this I suffer." 
 
 That Lamb is Lord of death and life, 
 
 God over all for ever ; 
 The Father's Son, whom to that strife 
 
 Love doth for us deliver ! 
 O mighty Love ! what hast Thou done ! 
 The Father offers up His Son — 
 
 The Son content descendeth ! 
 O Love, Love ! how strong art Thou ! 
 In shroud and grave thou lay'st Him low 
 
 Whose word the mountains rendeth ! 
 
PAUL OKi:il.\i:i>. 
 
 a 
 
 Him on the Cross, O Love, thou layest, 
 
 Fast to that torture nailing, 
 li in as a spotless Lamb thou slay est ; 
 
 His heart and flesh are failing — 
 The body with that crimson flood, 
 That precious tide of noble blood, 
 
 The heart with anguish breaking ! 
 
 Lamb ! what shall I render Thee 
 For all Thy tender love to me, 
 
 Or what return be making ? 
 
 4. 
 My lifelong days would I still Thee 
 
 Be steadfastly beholding ; 
 Thee ever, as Thou ever me, 
 
 With loving arms enfolding. 
 And when my heart grows faint and chill, 
 My heart's undying Light, oh still 
 
 Abide unchanged before me ! 
 Myself Thy heritage I sign, 
 Ransom'd to be for ever Thine, 
 
 My only hope and glory. 
 
 6. 
 
 1 of Thy majesty and grace 
 Would night and day be singing ; 
 
 A sacrifice of joy and praise 
 
 Myself to Thee still bringing. 
 My stream of life shall flow to Thee, 
 Its steadfast current ceaselessly 
 
 In praise to Thee outpouring ; 
 And all the good Thou dost to me 
 I'll treasure in my memory, 
 
 Deep in my heart's depths storing ! 
 
23G THE HYMNS OF GEKMAXY. 
 
 6. 
 
 Gate of my heart, fly open wide, 
 
 Shrine of my heart, spread forth : 
 The Treasure will in thee abide, 
 
 Greater than heaven and earth. 
 Away with all this poor world's treasures, 
 And all this vain world's tasteless pleasures, 
 
 My treasure is in heaven : 
 For I have found true riches now ; 
 My treasure, Christ, my Lord art Thou, 
 
 Thy blood so freely given ! 
 
 7. 
 This treasure ever I employ, 
 
 This ever aid shall yield me ; 
 In sorrow it shall be my joy, 
 
 In conflict it shall shield me. 
 In joy, the music of my feast ; 
 And when all else has lost its zest, 
 
 This manna still shall feed me ; 
 In thirst my drink, in want my food, 
 My company in solitude, 
 
 To comfort and to lead me ! 
 
 8. 
 Death's poison cannot harm me now, 
 
 Thy blood new life bestowing ; 
 My shadow from the heat art Thou, 
 
 When the noontide is glowing. 
 And when by inward grief opprest, 
 My aching heart in Thee shall rest, 
 
 As a tired head on the pillow. 
 Should storms of persecution toss, 
 Firm anchor'd by Thy saving Cross, 
 
 My bark rests on the billow ! 
 
Till: II.HTRESS OF 1 URO. 237 
 
 ft 
 
 And when at last Thou leadcst me 
 
 Into Thy joy and light, 
 Thy blood shall clothe me royally, 
 
 Making my garments white ; 
 Shall place upon my head the crown, 
 Shall lead me to the Father's throne, 
 
 And raiment fit provide me ; 
 Till I, by Him to Thee betrothed, 
 By Thee in bridal costume clothed, 
 
 Stand as a bride beside Thee ! 
 
 ON THE RESURRECTION OP THE JUST. 
 BY THX ELECTRESS LOUISA HENRIETTA OP BRAHDENBUBQ. 
 
 {Jesus meine Zuversicht.) 
 
 1. 
 
 Jesus, my eternal trust* 
 
 And my Saviour, ever liveth : 
 This I know ; and deep and just 
 
 Is the peace this knowledge giveth, 
 Though death's lingering night may start 
 Many a question in my heart. 
 
 2. 
 Jesus lives eternally ; 
 
 I shall also live in Him, 
 "Where my Saviour is shall be. 
 
 What can make this bright hope dim ? 
 Will the Head one member lose, 
 Nor through each its life diffuse ? 
 
 3. 
 Hope's strong chain around me bound, 
 Still shall twine my Saviour grasping ; 
 
238 THE HYMNS OP GERMANY. 
 
 And my hand of faith be found 
 • As death left it, Jesus clasping : 
 
 No assault the foe can make, 
 E'er that deathless clasp shall break ! 
 
 4. 
 I am flesh, and therefore duly 
 
 Dust and ashes must become ; 
 This I know, but know as truly, 
 
 He will wake me from the tomb, 
 That with Him, whate'er betide, 
 I may evermore abide ! 
 
 5. 
 
 God Himself in that blest place, 
 Shall a glorious body give me ; 
 
 I shall see His blissful face, 
 To His heav'ns He will receive me : 
 
 To His joyful presence raise, 
 
 Ever upon Christ to gaze ! 
 
 6. 
 Then these eyes my Lord shall know, 
 
 My Redeemer and my Brother ; 
 In His love my soul shall glow, — 
 
 I myself, and not another! 
 Then from this rejoicing heart, 
 Every weakness shall depart. 
 
 7. 
 What is weak or maim'd below, 
 
 There shall be made strong and free 
 Earthly is the seed we sow, 
 
 Heavenly shall the harvest be : 
 Nature here, and sin ; but there, 
 Spiritual all and fair ! 
 
PAUL GERHARD. 239 
 
 8. 
 Thrill, my mortal frame, with gladness, 
 
 Fear not though thy vigour wane, 
 Qive not any place to sadness, 
 
 Die, yet Christ shall raise again, 
 When shall sound the trump of doom, 
 Piercing, rending, every tomb ! 
 
 9. 
 Smile, then, that cold dark grave scorning, 
 
 Smile at death and hell together ; 
 Through the free air of the morning, 
 
 To your Saviour ye shall gather ; 
 All infirmity and woe, 
 'Neath your feet then lying low. 
 
 10. 
 Only raise your souls above 
 
 Pleasures in which earth delighteth ; 
 Give your hearts to Him in love 
 
 To whom death so soon uniteth ; 
 Thither oft in spirit flee 
 Where ye would for ever be. 
 
 ON THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 BY PAUL GERHARD. 
 
 (Befiehl du deine Wege.) 
 Commit thy way to God, 
 
 The weight which makes thee faint ; 
 Worlds are to Him no load ! — 
 
 To Him breathe thy complaint. 
 He who for winds and clouds 
 
 Maketh a pathway free, 
 Through wastes, or hostile crowds, 
 
 Can make a way for thee. 
 
240 THE HYMNS OP GERMANY. 
 
 Ere bliss can be secure ; 
 On His work must thou rest, 
 
 If thy work shall endure. 
 To anxious, prying thought, 
 
 And weary, fretting care, 
 The Highest yieldeth nought ; 
 
 He giveth all to prayer ! 
 
 Father ! Thy faithful love, 
 
 Thy mercy, wise and mild, 
 Sees what will blessing prove, 
 
 Or what will hurt Thy child. 
 And what Thy wise foreseeing 
 
 Doth for Thy children choose, 
 Thou bringest into being, 
 
 Nor sufferest them to lose. 
 
 All means always possessing, 
 
 Invincible in might ; 
 Thy doings are all blessing, 
 
 Thy goings are all light. 
 Nothing Thy work suspending, 
 
 No foe can make Thee pause, 
 "When Thou Thine own defending, 
 
 Dost undertake their cause. 
 
 Though all the devils throng 
 
 Thine onward course to stay, 
 Thou passest calm along, 
 
 Nor swervest from Thy way. 
 What Thou hast once disposed 
 
 And order'd in Thy strength, 
 Whatever powers opposed, 
 
 Must reach its goal at length. 
 
PAUL GERHARD. 241 
 
 Hope then, though woes be doubled, 
 
 Hope and be umlismavM ; 
 Let not thine heart be troubled. 
 
 Nor let it beat 
 This prison where thou art, 
 
 Thy God will break it soon, 
 And flood with light thy heart 
 
 In His own blessed noon. 
 
 Up, up ! the day is breaking, 
 
 Say to thy cares, Good night ! 
 Thy troubles from thee shaking, 
 
 Like dreams in day's fresh light. 
 Thou wearest not the crown, 
 
 Nor the best course canst tell ; 
 God sitteth on the throne, 
 
 And guideth all things well 
 
 Trust Him to govern, then ! 
 
 No king can rule like Him ; 
 How wilt thou wonder when 
 
 Thine eyes no more are dim : 
 To see these paths which vex thee, 
 
 How wise they were, and meet ; 
 The works which now perplex thee, 
 
 How beautiful, complete ! 
 
 Faithful the love thou sharest, 
 
 All, all is well with thee ; 
 The crown from hence thou bearest 
 
 With shouts of victory. 
 In thy right hand, to-morrow, 
 
 Thy God shall place the palms ; 
 To Him who chased thy sorrow 
 
 How glad will be thy psalms ! 
 Q 
 
24:2 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 THE JOYS OP HEAVEN. 
 AFTER PAUL GERHARD. 
 
 (Ach Jesus wie so scho?i.) 
 
 Christ ! how good and fair 
 Will be my portion, where 
 Thine eyes on me shall rest, 
 And make me fully blest, 
 When from this narrow earth 
 To Thee I shall spring forth ! 
 
 What joy, unmix'd and full, 
 Thou Treasure of the soul, 
 When, in that home above, 
 Thy heart speaks out its love 
 To all made one with Thee— 
 My brothers, Lord, and me ! 
 
 What glorious light will shine 
 Forth from Thy face Divine, 
 Which, in that life untold, 
 Then first I shall behold ! 
 How will Thy goodness free 
 Fill me with ecstasy ! 
 
 Lips, whence such words have stream'd ! 
 Eyes, whence such pity beam'd ! 
 Side, wounded once for me ! 
 All, all I then shall see ! 
 With reverent rapture greet 
 Thy pierced hands and feet ! 
 
 Ah, Jesus, my " good part ! " 
 How will my mind and heart 
 Vibrate with rapture through, 
 And all my soul grow new, 
 
When Thou, with smiles of love, 
 Openest those gates above ! 
 
 "Come," Thou wilt say, "blest child ! 
 Taste pleasures ondefi] 
 And see the gifts, how fair, 
 My Fathers hands prepare ; 
 Pasture thine heart for ever 
 In joy that fadeth never." 
 
 O thou poor, passing earth ! 
 What are thy treasures worth 
 Beside those heavenly crowns 
 And more than golden thrones 
 Which Christ hath treasured there 
 For those who please Him here ? 
 
 This is the angels' land, 
 Where all the blessed stand ; 
 Here I hear nought but singing, 
 See all with gladness springing ; 
 Here is no cross, no sorrow, 
 No parting on the morrow ! 
 
 When shall that joy begin? 
 When wilt Thou call me in ? 
 Thou knowest ! but my feet 
 Press onward Thee to meet ; 
 And my heart, day by day, 
 Bears me to Thee away. 
 
 ON THE LOVE OP GOD. 
 COUKT ZIHZKHDOar. 
 
 (Du ewiger Abgrund der scligen Liebe.) 
 Thou deep abyss of blessed Love. 
 In Jesus Christ to us unseal'd, 
 
244 THE HYMNS OF GERMANY. 
 
 Fire, which no finite heart could prove, 
 
 Depths, to no human thought reveal'd ; 
 Thou lovest sinners — lovest me, 
 Thou blessest those who cursed Thee : 
 O great, O kind, O loving One, 
 What worthless creatures shin'st Thou on ! 
 
 Thou King of Light ! our deepest longing 
 
 Is shallow to Thy depths of grace ; 
 Deep are the woes to us belonging, 
 But deeper far Thy joy to bless. 
 Teach us to trust the Father's love, 
 Still looking to the Son above ; 
 Blest Spirit ! through our spirits pour 
 True prayers and praises evermore. 
 
 Jesus ! Thine own with rich grace filling, 
 
 Thy mighty blessing on us shed, 
 New life through every member thrilling, 
 
 Diffused from Thee, the living Head ; 
 Shew us how light Thy mild yoke is, 
 And how from self's hard yoke it frees. 
 If Thou wilt teach Thy household so, 
 The works the Master's hand shall show. 
 
6WEDIS1I KEFOiUIATi 14 J 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 iwmnua Imon. 
 
 Long after the southern regions of modern Europe 
 emerge into the sober daylight of history, the twilight of 
 legend lingers over the North. The gigantic forms of the 
 old Sagas flit about in the gleam of the northern lights 
 ages after the chronicles of the South are peopled with a 
 race of solid and ordinary men and women. Four cen- 
 turies after the times when the people of Milan first sang 
 the hymns of Ambrose, nearly three centuries after Gre- 
 gory the Great sent Augustine to the English, a hundn «l 
 years after the Venerable Bede passed his tranquil life 
 in the monastery near "Wearmouth, translating the New 
 Testament into Anglo-Saxon, and chronicling his own 
 times — in Sweden Christianity was carrying on its first 
 conflict with the fierce old Scandinavian heathenism. — 
 Anschar, " the Apostle of the North," died A.D. 835. 
 
 Thus Christendom had journeyed eight kundied years 
 from the apostolic age before the name of Christ pene- 
 trated into Sweden. After seven centuries more, Chris- 
 tianity, for the first time, streamed into those northern 
 regions fresh from the lips of evangelists and apostles. 
 
 The Swedish Reformation seems scarcely to have been 
 so much a transplantation from Germany as a natural 
 
24 G SWEDISH HYMNS. 
 
 branch of Lutheran Protestantism. The inward work 
 in Sweden appears to have followed the outward. The 
 Bible was given to the people in their mother-tongue, 
 and the Church ceremonies were reformed on the Lu- 
 theran model, and so the nation became Lutheran, and 
 many among them truly evangelical. The Bible was 
 translated from the German Bible ; the hymn-book was 
 a reflection of the German hymn-book, but by degrees 
 native hymn-writers arose. The glad tidings could not 
 fail to call forth the new song. 
 
 The whole history of Sweden appears to blossom into 
 its full and characteristic development in the biography 
 of one man. It should never be forgotten that the royal 
 hero of Protestantism was a Swede. Swedish chronicles, 
 otherwise so isolated, are incorporated as a central por- 
 tion of European history around the persons of two 
 Swedish kings, Gustavus Adolphus and Charles XII. 
 The self-sacrificing Christian hero, and the selfish mili- 
 tary chief, might stand as among the most strikingly 
 contrasted types of true and false heroism. 
 
 If ever a man subordinated self to the cause he con- 
 tended for, it was surely the Great Gustavus. And he 
 had his reward in kind. The life he so unflinchingly 
 offered to stem the returning flood of Bomanism was 
 accepted, and the flood was stayed. The hero died at 
 Lutzen, and the faith he had contended for held its 
 ground in Germany. From that noble heart, in which 
 northern strength and northern tenderness, the lofty 
 heroism of an old Yiking, and the lowly heroism of 
 a Christian martyr, were so wonderfully blended, one 
 psalm has come down to us. Its composition was charac- 
 teristic. The brave king was no man of letters. The 
 
f UNIVERSITY \ 
 
 fire of faith which tanned in bid heart was more wont to 
 fuse the iron of heroic deeds thau the gold of beautiful 
 words. But the thoughts were in his heart; had tiny 
 not inspired him in march and battle-field? So he told 
 his chaplain, Dr Jacob Fabricius, what his thoughts were, 
 and the chaplain moulded them into three verses of a 
 hymn, and the simple-hearted hero took them ever after- 
 wards as his battle-song. On the morning of his last 
 battle, when the armies of Gustavus and Wallenstein WIN 
 drawn up, waiting till the morning mist dispersed to com- 
 mence the attack, the king commanded Luther's grand 
 psalm, " Eine feste Burg 1st unser Gott," to be sung, and 
 then that hymn of his own, accompanied by the drums 
 and trumpets of the whole army. Immediately after- 
 wards the mist broke, and the sunshine burst on the two 
 armies, For a moment Gustavus Adolphus knelt beside 
 his horse, in face of his soldiers, and repeated his usual 
 battle-prayer, " O Lord Jesus Christ ! bless our arms, 
 and this day's battle, for the glory of Thy holy name ! " 
 Then passing along the lines, with a few brief words of 
 encouragement, he gave the battle-cry, " God with us ! w 
 the same with which he had conquered at Leipzig. Thus 
 began the day which laid him low amidst the thickest 
 of the fight, with those three sentences on his dying lips, 
 noble and Christian as any that ever fell from the lips of 
 dying man since the days of the first martyr : — " I seal 
 with my blood the liberty and religion of the German 
 nation !" — " My God, my God !" — and the last that were 
 heard, " Alas ! my poor queen !" * 
 
 A hymn so consecrated has a value beyond that of any 
 mere words. Whether the Swedish, (from which the fol- 
 • Hollinga* " Life of Gustavus Adolphus." 
 
248 SWEDISH HYMNS. 
 
 lowing translation is made,) or the German, was the origi- 
 nal, the translator does not know. Probably both were 
 original ; but that in the mother-tongue of the hero him- 
 self has its peculiar interest. 
 
 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS' BATTLE-SONG. 
 
 (Forfar as ej du lilla hop.) 
 
 Be not dismay'd, thou little flock, 
 Although the foe's fierce battle shock, 
 
 Loud on all sides, assail thee. 
 Though o'er thy fall they laugh secure, 
 Their triumph cannot long endure ; 
 
 Let not thy courage fail thee. 
 
 Thy cause is God's — go at His cal], 
 And to His hand commit thy all ; 
 
 Fear thou no ill impending : 
 His Gideon shall arise for thee, 
 God's Word and people manfully, 
 
 In God's own time, defending. 
 
 Our hope is sure in Jesus' might ; 
 Against themselves the godless fight, 
 
 Themselves, not us, distressing ; 
 Shame and contempt their lot shall be ; 
 God is with us, with Him are we : 
 
 To us belongs His blessing. 
 
 The orphaned army and nation had need, indeed, of 
 such words to sustain them for the loss of such a man and 
 such a captain — a loss inadequately compensated even by 
 the utter destruction on that battle-field of the imperial 
 army. But his cause was won, and Protestant Germany 
 was saved, not by her armies or her princes, but by the 
 heart of that one hero, given by God. 
 
vul 249 
 
 Two other tran.slai lou aro here oil'. 
 hymns. The first is from one by Spegel, Archbishop of 
 Upsala. He was born A.D. lo" 1 •">. thirteen years after the 
 death of the great Gustavus, and died A.D. 1714 ; he was 
 thus a contemporary of Paul Gerhard. He is said by his 
 countrymen to be their greatest hymn-writer, and to have 
 accomplished much good for Sweden. The following verses 
 are extracted from a hymn of his, which is a paraphrase 
 of part of the sermon on the mount. 
 
 u CON8IDER THE LILIES " 
 
 (Oss Christna bar tro och besinna.) 
 We, Christians, should steadfastly ponder 
 
 What Christ hath so graciously taught ; 
 For He, who would have us His freemen, 
 
 Would see us retain in our thought 
 How little things earthly are worth, 
 Lest those who heap treasures on earth 
 
 The heavenly prize leave unsought. 
 
 All nature a sermon may preach thee ; 
 
 The birds sing thy murmurs away, — 
 The birds which, nor sowing nor reaping, 
 
 God fails not to feed day by day j 
 And He, who these creatures doth cherish, 
 Will He fail thee and leave thee to perish ? 
 
 Or art thou not better than they 1 
 
 The lilies, nor toiling nor spinning, 
 Their clothing how gorgeous and fair ! 
 
 What tints in their tiuy robes woven, 
 What wondrous devices are there ! 
 
 All Solomon's stores could not render 
 
 One festival robe of such splendour 
 As the flowers have for everyday wear. 
 
250 SWEDISH HYMNS. 
 
 God gives to each flower its rich raiment, 
 And o'er them His treasures flings free, 
 
 Which to-day finds so fragrant in beauty, 
 And to-morrow all faded shall see. 
 
 Thus the lilies smile shame on thy care, 
 
 And the happy birds sing it to air : 
 Will their God be forgetful of thee ? 
 
 The last of these three specimens of Swedish sacred 
 song is from Franzen, Bishop of Hernosand, who died 
 A.D. 1818, at the age of thirty-six. 
 
 LOOKING UNTO JESUS. 
 FRANZEN. 
 
 {Jesum haf i standigt minne.) 
 Jesus in thy memory keep, 
 
 Wouldst thou be God's child and friend ; 
 Jesus in thy heart shrined deep, 
 
 Still thy gaze on Jesus bend. 
 In thy toiling, in thy resting, 
 Look to Him with every breath, 
 Look to Jesus' life and death. 
 
 Look to Jesus, till, reviving, 
 
 Faith and love thy life-springs swell ; 
 
 Strength for all things good deriving 
 From Him who did all things well ; 
 
 Work, as He did, in thy season, 
 
 Works which shall not fade away, 
 
 Work while it is call'd to-day. 
 
 Look to Jesus, prayerful, waking, 
 
 When thy feet on roses tread ; 
 Follow, worldly pomp forsaking, 
 
 With thy cross, where He hath lecL 
 Look to Jesus in temptation ; 
 Baffled shall the tempter flee, 
 And God's angels come to thee. 
 
Sfl l 
 
 Look to Jesus, when dark lowering 
 
 || thy borilOQ dim, 
 By that band in terror cowering, 
 
 Calm 'midst tempests, look on Him. 
 Trust in Him who still rebuketh 
 Wind and billow, fire and n\> 
 Forward ! brave by trusting < 
 
 Look to Jesus when distressed, 
 
 See what He, the Holy, bore ; 
 Is thy heart with conflict pressed ? 
 
 Is thy soul still harass'd sore ? 
 See His sweat of blood, His conflict, 
 Watch His agony increase, 
 Hear His prayer, and feel His peace ! 
 
 By want's fretting thorns surrounded, 
 Does long pain press forth thy sighs 1 
 
 By ingratitude deep wounded, 
 Does a scornful world despise ? 
 
 Friends forsake thee, or deny thee ? 
 
 See what Jesus must endure, 
 
 He who as the light was pure ! 
 
 Look to Jesus still to shield thee 
 When no longer thou may'st live ; 
 
 In that last need He will yield thee 
 Peace the world can never give. 
 
 Look to Him, thy head low bending ; 
 
 He who finish'd all for thee, 
 
 Takes thee, then, with Him to be. 
 
 Were it within the scope of this volume to give selec- 
 tions from living hymn-writers, many might be chosen 
 from Sweden, where a fresh glow of Christian life i- ; in 
 these days, awakening many a fresh stream of song, in a 
 language which combines the homely strength of the Ger- 
 man with the liquid music of the Italian. 
 
252 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 The Reformed Churches of France and French Switzer- 
 land seem to have had no literature corresponding to the 
 hymns of Protestant Germany. The names connected 
 with mediaeval hymn literature, on the other hand, are, 
 as has been observed, chiefly French. Did the peculiar 
 form which the Reformation took in France, then, tend 
 to quench the spirit of sacred poetry, or what other 
 causes brought about this result ? 
 
 To judge rightly on this subject, we must, in the first 
 place, be clear what we mean by France, since, although 
 the French monarchy is the oldest in Europe, the 
 same antiquity can scarcely be assigned to the French 
 nation as it now exists. The distracted aggregation of 
 duchies and counties — Brittany, Burgundy, Aquitaine, 
 Provence, Languedoc — out of which the unity of modern 
 France was gradually compressed, were scarcely more 
 one with the France of to-day than the Greece of Mara- 
 thon was with the Byzantine Empire. The southern 
 regions were of the South, Romance, the northern were of 
 the North, Teutonic, and neither were French. It 
 is remarkable how many of the names of the mediaeval 
 hymn- writers, connected by birth with France, are 
 
HYMNS OF THE CALVIN 1st ir nil |08 
 
 of German form. Bernard, with hii brother Gerard, 
 Marbod, Hildebert, seem more the natural prcdeoee- 
 sors of Martin Lather and Paul Gerhard than of Cor- 
 Dflifle or Clement Marot. Lineally, therefore, the QeraMBi 
 hymn literature may be said to be descended from th«> 
 mediaeval, and the sacred poetry, which seemed native to 
 France, may perhaps rather be looked on as a branch of 
 the great river of German sacred song. 
 
 Yet when we remember that the same absence of an 
 evangelical national hymn literature, springing up spon- 
 taneously as a natural growth of the Reformation, which 
 characterises the Reformed Churches of France and 
 French Switzerland, exists also in the sister Church of 
 Scotland, it is impossible not to connect this fact with 
 the similar form which the Reformation took in all these 
 lands. None of the strictly Calvinistic communities have 
 a hymn-book dating back to the Reformation. It cannot 
 suivly be their doctrine which caused this ; many of the 
 best known and most deeply treasured of the more mo- 
 dern hymns of Germany and England have been written 
 by those who receive the doctrines known as Calvinistic 
 2\or can it proceed from any peculiarity of race, or defi- 
 ciency in popular love of music and song. French and 
 Scotch national character are too dissimilar to explain the 
 resemblance ; whilst France has many national melodies 
 and songs, and Scotland is peculiarly rich in both. Is 
 not the cause then simply the common ideal of external 
 ecclesiastical forms which pervaded all the Churches re- 
 formed on the Genevan type ? The intervening chapters 
 of Church history were, as it were, folded up, as too 
 blotted and marred for truth to be read to profit in them ; 
 
254 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 and, next to the first chapter in the Acts of the Apostles, 
 was to stand, as the second chapter, the history of the Re- 
 formed Chnrches. Words were to resume their original 
 Bible meaning ; nothing was to be received that could not 
 be traced back to the Divine hand. Ecclesiastical order 
 was to be such as St Paul had established or had found 
 established ; clearly to be traced, it was believed, in tho 
 Acts and Apostolical Epistles. And, since the inspira- 
 tion which glowed on the gifted lips of apostolic days 
 existed no longer, and the psalms and hymns and spiri- 
 tual songs in which St Paul had delighted formed no 
 part of the New Testament canon, recourse must be had 
 to an older liturgy — inspired throughout — at once most 
 human and most Divine. Thus the Book of Psalms be- 
 came the hymn-book of the Reformed Churches, adapted 
 to grave and solemn music, in metrical translations whose 
 one aim and glory was to render into measure which could 
 be sung the very words of the old Hebrew Psalms. By 
 what ingenious transpositions and compressions of words 
 and syllables this has been accomplished, in the case of 
 Scotland, is known to these who attend the Scotch Pres- 
 byterian services. The labour must have been conscien- 
 tiously and painfully accomplished ; for although the result 
 may, to the uninitiated, bear something of the same resem- 
 blance to poetry as the fitting of fragments of Hebrew 
 temple and Christian church into the walls of Jerusalem 
 bears to architecture, — columns reversed and mouldings 
 disconnected, — yet the very words are there, and the use to 
 which they are applied is most sacred. At all events, the 
 Scotch Psalms are David's Psalms, and not modern medi- 
 tations on them ; and with all the sacred associations which 
 
■nan 01 the imiayku-book. 
 
 two centuries of such a Church history as that of Scot- 
 land has gathered round the song of to-day, mingling it 
 echoes from mountain _ ,>, and martyrs' pri- 
 
 sons and scaffolds, and joyful deathbeds, probably no hvinn- 
 book could ever be one-half so musical or poetical to Scotch 
 hearts as those strange, rough verses. The Paraphrases 
 com 1 »ined with them, have a later origin and another 
 history, and do not alter the fact that David's Psalter 
 was the first hymn-book of the Reformed or Genevan 
 Churches. 
 
 England, in this as in so many other things, takes a 
 middle place ; — in some measure a city of refuge, where 
 both forms of the Reformation lived tranquilly side by 
 side, but also a border land, where both met and con- 
 tended. 
 
 The Church of England is, in form, linked to the 
 eval Church by ties far stronger and more numerous 
 than the Lutheran Churches of Germany. The thinking 
 people of England were, after the Marian exiles returned 
 from the Continent, more strongly attracted to the Pro- 
 testantism of Switzerland and Scotland than to that 
 of Germany. Thus, between Anglicanism and Puritan- 
 ism it happened that, until the last century, we cannot be 
 said to have had any national, that is, any people's hymn- 
 liook at all Probably no person or community ever felt 
 any enthusiasm either for Sternhold and Hopkins or 
 Tate and Brady ; and although some stray hymns have 
 crept into our modern hymn-books from earlier days, until 
 the eighteenth century we had no People's Hymn-book ; 
 none, that is, that was placed on cottage tables beside the 
 Bible, and mug when Christians met, and chanted beside 
 
25 6 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 the grave. The Wesleys seem to have been the first who 
 gave a People's Hymn-book to England ; unless that of Dr 
 Watts may be called so, published about the beginning of 
 the eighteenth century. Not, indeed, that England was 
 silent those two hundred years, or that the sacred chain 
 of holy song was ever altogether broken in our country. 
 "VVehad our "TeDeum" and "Magnificat," and theEnglish 
 Psalms in the music of their own grand and touching prose 
 — a melody as much deeper to our ears than any me- 
 trical manufacture of the same, as the morning song of a 
 thrush is than the notes of a caged bird that has been pain- 
 fully taught to sing two or three tunes. These were said 
 in village church and quiet home, making rich melody 
 in the heart, and pealed through the old cathedrals to 
 choral chant, in a language " understanded of all the 
 people." The Prayer-book, with all its musical flow of 
 choice words, floating down on its clear stream of pure 
 English the song and prayer of the true Church of all 
 ages, and the English Psalter, — this was the hymn-book 
 of half our people ; while in many a Puritan congregation 
 the heroic purposes of the heart, the individuality of 
 Puritan religion, which made every hymn sung as by 
 each worshipper alone "to God," must have breathed 
 poetry into any verses, and fused them, by inward fire, 
 into a music no external polish could ever give. 
 
 Many a solitary voice also poured its quiet lay apart, 
 enough to make a joyous chorus to those heavenly listeners 
 who heard all together. Still there was no People's Hymn- 
 book; no hymns which the babe could lisp and the dying 
 rejoice in, linking together, by the power of simple truth, 
 the cradle and the deathbed. The language of sacred poetry 
 
HTlCffl Of tmi: D LCOL 
 
 ime was too subtle aii<l 
 come home to the hearts of the people. In spirit 
 ! . in form they WON like the Latin verses 
 of later mediaeval hymn-writ i rs, written for a ohoioe 
 ■v, ;in<l full of those lubtle alfaifona, half tli.; 
 ire of which ■ a tin- ingenuity reqxdzed to 
 
 understand as weD as to invent them. Such hymns 
 OOOkl never be BUIIg by little children at Christinas like 
 Luther's, or become a nation's battle-song, or sweetly 
 peace at moments when flesh and heart failed, 
 and mmtal effort was impossible — clinging around the 
 soul, as it were, by their own simple power, when the 
 soul had lost its power to cling to anything. At 
 sueh times, the minds which framed them must surely 
 : lien thankfully l»aek on the old psalms and Scrip- 
 tural hymns, however rough the setting. These ingeni- 
 poema have become obsolete, which deeper thingB 
 cannot The fashion of this world was on them, and they 
 have passed away. "Whilst the name of Luther is even 
 to us in England a household name, and the hymns of 
 
 iriieat Reformers are reprinted fresh as at fii 
 the latest German hymn-books, how many among us 
 \. anything of the names of Gascoigne, Barnaby 
 
 Barnes, Michael Drayton, Henry Lok, William Hun n is, 
 or Samuel Rowlands, who wrote sacred poems in th 
 of Good Queen Bess? Edmund Spenser, and Sir Philip 
 Sydney, ai . familiar names; but, although 
 
 ments of Spenser's high and sweet meditations may find 
 into a collection of sacred poems, they are 
 scarcely hymns for general use ; and, although Sir Philip 
 j aud Lady Pembroke's Psalter contain many 
 B 
 
258 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 majestic and vigorous versions, it was never a people's 
 Psalter. The rich old English, and the deep thought 
 and quaint fancies of that wonderful period, shine out in 
 many of those forgotten pages ; but they bear witness 
 to the piety or the poetical power of the writer rather 
 than to the faith of the times. Taken, however, as they are, 
 they have their deep interest. If not echoed back, like 
 the hymns of Luther and Gerhard, by the hearts of thou- 
 sands, they are at least parts in the great service of song, 
 which has its sweet solitary hymns, sung on through the 
 night, as well as its grand choral bursts at morning. 
 
 At last the strong hand of Queen Elizabeth lay power- 
 less; and through the reigns of the Stuarts England passed 
 on to the Rebellion, and the firm rule of Oliver Cromwell. 
 The reign of " euphuism " died out : sacred music must 
 cast aside the fair trappings of the golden age, and lay 
 down the lyre, and chant strains preluded by trumpets, 
 interrupted by cannon, and often echoed from prisons and 
 scaffolds. All the contrary elements in the English 
 Church and State, which in their passive condition neu- 
 tralised each other, sprang into activity ; every difference 
 became a dispute ; the electricity which in calm weather 
 quickened life, exploded in thunder-storms. Yet from both 
 sides, amidst the din, the old psalm flowed on, piercing 
 with its music all the clamour, and reaching us long after 
 the echoes of the storm have died away. George Herbert, 
 from his country parsonage ministering to the poor, and 
 borne to his grave with cathedral chants ; blind John 
 Milton, Secretary of the Protector, and scom of the court 
 of the Restoration ; Richard Baxter, true pastor of the 
 flock of Christ at Kidderminster, so basely browbeaten 
 
El AND DODDRIDGE. 
 
 by Judge .J.ilVeys; Bishop B Nonjuror; these are 
 
 the voices which carry on the song of peace through that 
 time of strife 
 
 With the eighteenth iMlUliy, however, the history of 
 
 h hymn-books must begin. The two earliest names 
 
 on the long list of that century link the story of the 
 
 faith in England, in an interesting way, with that of the 
 
 persecuted Protestants on the Continent. Dr Watts, 
 
 IB L674, was descended, through his mother, from a 
 Huguenot family, driven from France by the persecutions 
 in the early part of Queen Kli/-il»eh's reign. And Dr 
 Doddridge, doubtless, in his childhood, when his mother 
 had finished the Bible-lesson from the pictured Dutch 
 tiles, would often ask for the story of her father Dr 
 John Baumann's flight from Bohemia, with his little 
 store of money bound up in his girdle, and Luther s 
 
 an Bible for all his heritage. Traditions of other 
 ancestral wrongs and faithfulness deepened the i 
 piety of the two great Nonconformist hvinn-wiv 
 the pathetic stories of those patient sufferings for con- 
 science* sake, which, next to the martyrdoms of Mary's 
 time, form the most thrilling chapter in the history 
 of our English Protestantism, — stories not then con- 
 densed into national history, but which the sufferers 
 themselves yet lived to tell : for Dr Watts' mother 
 also had her tales of her son's own infancy, when his 
 father lay in prison for his convictions, and she had sate 
 on the stones by his prison door with her first-born in 
 her arms. There had been other reasons besides the 
 dearth of writers why the Puritan congregations could 
 
 no hymn-books. They had to choose their places of 
 
260 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 meeting in secluded corners, to set watches outside the 
 door, and let their prayers and praises be soft, so that no 
 enemy might hear and betray them. The times changed 
 much during the lifetime of those two men. The Stuarts 
 were finally dethroned. Dissenting academies began to 
 flourish, and the heroic age of Nonconformity passed 
 away. When at length Dr Watts died, in a tranquil old 
 age, at Abney Park, in 1748, and was buried among many 
 of his persecuted friends and predecessors in Bunhill 
 Fields, a respectful concourse of spectators attended 
 the funeral. And Dr Doddridge, when, at fifty -one, 
 consumption had laid him low, on his deathbed on a 
 foreign shore, where only his wife was with him, minis- 
 tering to him to the last, was followed by the sympathy 
 of good men of all ecclesiastical parties in his native land. 
 It is interesting to know, that Dr Watts' hymn-book, 
 which the dying Dr Doddridge found in a friend's house at 
 Lisbon, was often the solace of his last days of suffering. 
 The lives of these two singers were alike in their calm 
 and sunny peacefulness. Dr Watts lived without care 
 under the hospitable roof of Sir Thomas Abney, combin- 
 ing the tranquillity of the life of a hermit with the 
 cheerfulness of a social circle. Dr Doddridge lived sur- 
 rounded by his affectionate family, and amidst his pupils, 
 in a comfortable old English county-town house at 
 Northampton. Both seemed to have learned, from the 
 traditions of persecution in their families, what persecu- 
 tion teaches few — to forbear. They did what good they 
 could in their own circles, and wrote hymns, which all 
 evangelical English Christians unite in singing, and 
 which, although many of them may be unworthy of 
 
DR DODD; 
 
 1 the best may be try finish, 
 
 Jfi] the great mission of hymns, bung lisped I 
 and murmured on the deathbed, end welcome alike 
 in the cottage end the palace, wherever sorrow i 
 to prayer, or Christian joy awakens then to praise. 
 
 And among the foretastes of better things, and the 
 illustration of the true essential unity of all the living 
 Church of Christ, not one of the least satisfactory is the 
 quiet oolebination, at the end of many of our IV 
 books, of the hymns of the Nonjuring Bishop Ken and 
 the Nonconformist Dr Doddridge. There is certainly 
 no small pleasure in beholding all the various seel 
 within the Church of England unconsciously uu'. 
 praising God in strains which first flowed from minds too 
 far apart xtreme of her inclosure to be included 
 
 within it If it is true, as is reported, that Bishop Ken 
 would enhance his joy in heaven t<> listen to his 
 Morning and Evening Hymns sung by the faith fid on 
 earth, we maybe sure that pleasure would not be mi I 
 by hearing blended with them, as the " fair white cloth " 
 is spread, and the worshippers prepare to celebrate the 
 " exceeding great love of our Master and only Saviour 
 Jesus Christ," the hymn of the Nonconformist minister, 
 
 God, and is Thy table spread, 
 And doth Thy cup with love o'erflow?" 
 
 Serenely, through peaceful times, did these two good men, 
 Doddridge and Watts, pass along their tranquil course to 
 their quiet end, evermore to 
 
 ** Bathe the weary soul 
 In seas of heavenly rest." 
 
262 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 Less tranquil days followed, and very different was the 
 complexion of the lives of the writers of the next great 
 English People's Hymn-book. 
 
 In the first years of the century, whilst Dr Doddridge, 
 during his solitary childhood, was learning from his 
 mother's lips, in their house in London, how the God 
 who led Israel through the wilderness rescued his exiled 
 grandfather from Bohemia ; whilst the first edition of Dr 
 Watts' Hymn-book was being eagerly bought up in a 
 single year, John and Charles Wesley were spending their 
 childhood in the country parsonage at Epworth in Lin- 
 colnshire.* The old Puritan blood ran also in their 
 veins ; their father's grandfather and father had both been 
 ejected ministers, his father many times in prison on 
 account of his Nonconformity. Their mother's father, 
 Dr Annesley, was also one of the original Noncon- 
 formists, a man of whom his daughter said, that for forty 
 years his deep sense of peace with God through Christ 
 had never been broken, and who died murmuring such 
 words as these, "When I awake up in Thy likeness, I 
 shall be satisfied — satisfied ! " But their own early lean- 
 ings were to the opposite of Dissent. They looked to 
 Thomas a Kempis as a guide, rather than to the Puritan 
 divines. It was not until after years of painful toilings to 
 reach and please God, that the Wesleys became as little 
 children, and learned that God had first loved them, had 
 redeemed them by the blood of His Son, and freely ac- 
 cepted them in Him. But when they were taught this 
 liberating truth of present pardon and adoption, and 
 
 * John Wesley was born in 1703, Dr Doddridge in 1702, and the first 
 edition of Dr Watts' Hymns appeared and was sold in 1709. 
 
2C3 
 
 found thai L of the sheep is also the Door of 
 
 tW fold, and came straight t<> Him and prored that the 
 Sun of the heavenly city is also the Sun of tin- believing 
 m-uL fcheir hearts con 11 not contain the joy. The | 
 of God came to them, not as a quiet blessedness, uiinm- 
 ly Sowing into their hearts through a mother's lips, 
 but as an overwhelming joy, setting them free from a hard 
 It was to them no hereditary possession, which 
 they wexe thankful to be allowed to enjoy in tranquillity, 
 
 and which they would gladly share with any who wished 
 and asked for it; it was news, good news direct from 
 heaven, glad tidings of great joy for all, which all must 
 And through the length and breadth of England 
 and Inland, across the Atlantic to America, the hrothers 
 
 up and down for half a century to tell it. 
 
 bed, threatened, mocked, defamed. They were 
 called Jesuits, Jacobites, blasphemers, and fanatics. 
 Houses in which they rested were besieged and unroofed. 
 They were driven from a church dearer to them than 
 anything but the souls of men ; one of the most orderly 
 and methodical of human beings was forced into the lift 
 of an itinerant preacher. But the good news spread : 
 riots spread it, persecution proclaimed it The death- 
 sleep of Sociuianism, into which Churchmen and Dis- 
 senters alike were falling, was broken; the hearts of 
 thousands were awakened; and the morning hymn of 
 rejoicing multitudes went up to that Sun of righteous- 
 
 which had arisen with healing in His wings. In 
 one place, where an enraged crowd had rushed into the 
 house where John "Wesley was resting, he addressed them 
 with such affectionate faithfulness (appealing to the 
 
264 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 " thirst" which lay deep in their hearts below their op- 
 position), that the disorderly mob became a peaceable con- 
 gregation, and tears of penitence streamed over the faces 
 of the ringleaders. At another time, the magistrate who 
 came to prevent Charles Wesley from preaching, was him- 
 self arrested by the preacher's words, listened to the end, 
 and went away with a humbled and softened heart. In 
 almost every place where they were thus assailed, societies 
 of true converts sprang up, out of the very ranks of the 
 persecutors. It was out of lives such as these that the 
 Wesleyan Hymn-book was distilled. One hymn was com- 
 j)Osed after a wonderful escape from an infuriated mob ; 
 another after a deliverance from a storm at sea ; and all 
 in the intervals of a life of incessant toil. The pressure 
 of trial, and the force of faith, drew many a vigorous 
 hymn from John Wesley ; but it was Charles Wesley w T ho 
 — in his prime, on his preaching tours, by the roadside, 
 amidst hostile mobs or devout congregations, and in his 
 old age, in his quiet journey ings from friend to friend — 
 poured forth the great mass of the Wesleyan hymns. 
 When his life of beneficence and courageous conflict was 
 almost over, it must have been a sight to call forth tears, 
 as well as smiles, to see the old gentleman (dressed in 
 winter costume even in the height of summer) dismount 
 from his old gray pony, and leaving it in the little garden 
 before his friend's house in the City Eoad, enter the 
 parlour, card in hand, and note down the words of 
 some sacred song which had been chiming through his 
 heart. 
 
 Those hymns are sung now in collieries and copper- 
 mines. How many has their heavenly music strengthened 
 
COA\ 
 
 to meet death in the dark coal-pit; on how many 
 n tl icy come back, at> tli.r's li] 
 
 the battle-field j beside how many deathbed* 
 been chanted by trembling voices, and listened to with 
 joy unspeakable; how many have they ropplied with 
 prayer and praise, from the first thrill of spiritual fear to 
 t rapture of heavenly hope ! They echo along the 
 1 ish moors as the corpse of the Christian miner is 
 borne to his last resting -place; they cheer with heavenly 
 messages the hard bondage of slavery ; they have been 
 the first words of thanksgiving on the lips of the liberated 
 negro ; they have given courage to brave men, and 
 nee to suffering women; they have been a liturgy 
 engraven on the hearts of the poor ; they have borne the 
 name of Jesus far and wide, and have helped to write it 
 deep on countless hearts. And England is no more 
 without a People's Hymn-book. 
 
 But all this time, whilst the Wesleys and Whitefield 
 were evangelising far and wide, other instruments for the 
 great choral service were being moulded elsewhere. 
 
 From the gentle but tortured spirit of Cowper, tin- 
 tidings of grace and redemption drew, in the intervals of 
 his terrible malady, those trembling but immortal notes 
 of praise which are more pathetic than any complainings; 
 for often when he was weeping those touching words on 
 the very bosom of the Father, it seemed to him as if they 
 were echoing unheard through the wastes of the far 
 country. 
 
 u poets ! from a maniac's tongue was pour'd the deathless 
 
 singing ; 
 Christians ! to your cross of hope a hopeless hand is clinging; 
 
266 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 O men ! this man, in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling, 
 Groan 'd inly while he taught you peace, and died while ye 
 were smiling." * 
 
 And meanwhile, John Newton, mate of the slaver, 
 guarded, amidst all his sins, from worse, by the recollec- 
 tion of a pious mother, and that pure early attachment to 
 Miss Catlett (afterwards his wife), and at length brought 
 back from his wanderings, to God and happiness, was re- 
 ceiving his training. He was no man of genius, no born 
 poet like Cowper; yet his hymns are no mere rhymed 
 sermons. He was made a hymn-writer by the depth and 
 freshness of his religious feelings ; even as youth or pas- 
 sionate emotion can waken music in many hearts whose 
 ordinary language is a sober, colourless prose. His com- 
 mon speech was raised into song by the glory of the mes- 
 sage he had to tell, and his own joy in telling it. 
 
 Thus, between these two natures, in themselves so 
 diverse, was composed, in the eight years from 1771 to 
 1779, the " Olney Hymn-Book ; " a river which welled 
 from very deep sources, and broke through many an ada- 
 mantine barrier to " make glad the city of God." 
 
 The hymn, "God moves in a mysterious way," came into 
 Cowper's heart during a solitary walk in the fields, when 
 he was tortured by an apprehension of returning mad- 
 ness. It was the last he ever composed for the Olney col- 
 lection. The words which have cheered and strengthened 
 so many were wrung from an agonised heart. The veil 
 was not withdrawn from his spirit on earth; but long, 
 long since, wakening up from his " life's long fever " to 
 
 * Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
POETS 0! MB. 
 
 leeyes* of Infinfa on him, he has 
 
 learned the blessed meaning of his own words — 
 "God is His own ii. 
 
 And He will make it plain." 
 
 Countless other voices followed these, swelling the one 
 chorus of J -raise. They were not, indeed, always -con- 
 Is- united on earth. It is only In later hymn-books 
 that the names of the Wesleys ami Topbdy are m 
 and those who, living, contended in very fierce contro- 
 versy, being dead, now speak with one accord in two of our 
 most treasured hymns, "Rock of Ages,"* and ''Jesus, 
 of my soul." t 
 And so that generation passed away to learn the full 
 meaning of the words they had been singing, and left to 
 i id a rich heritage of sacred song, simple and homely, 
 leep as truth, to blend with the earlier psalms which 
 had descended to us from the olden time. 
 
 It seems useless to give extracts from hymn-books 
 which are within the reach of every one, but a few 
 mens from earlier and less accessible writers may be 
 interesting, as a close to this brief sketch of English hymn 
 are. 
 
 POETS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH'S TIME. 
 
 THE HIGHWAY TO MOUNT CALUARIE. 
 SAMUEL ROWLANDS. 
 
 Repair to Pilat's hall, 
 Which place when thou hast found, 
 There shalt thou see a pillar stand, 
 To which thy Lord was bound. 
 
 • Topladj. t Charlea Wesley. 
 
2Q8 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 'Tis easie to be known 
 
 To anie Christian eye ; 
 
 The bloudie whips doe point it out 
 
 From all that stand thereby. 
 
 By it there lies a robe 
 
 Of purple, and a reed, 
 
 Which Pilat's seruants vs'd t' abuse, 
 
 In sinne's deriding deed ; 
 
 When they pronounced "All haile! 
 God saue thee ! " with a breath, 
 And by the same cride presently, 
 " Let Christ be done to death." 
 
 His person had in scorne, 
 
 His doctrine made a iest, 
 
 Their mockeries were a martirdome ; 
 
 No wrongs but Him opprest. 
 
 What courage lesse than His 
 
 Would haue indur'd like shame, 
 
 But would with griefs of such contempt 
 
 Haue dide t' indure the same ? 
 
 A little from that place, 
 Vpon the left hand side, 
 There is a curious portlie dore, 
 Right beautifull and wide. 
 
 Leaue that in anie wise, 
 Forbid thy foot goe thether ; 
 For out thereat did Judas goe, 
 Despaire and he together. 
 
I TO KOTO 
 
 <fa turue, 
 Where is a narrow gate, 
 Forth which St Peter went to weepe 
 His poor distrest estate. 
 
 Doe immitate the like, 
 Goe out at sorrowe's dore ; 
 Weepe bitterly as he did weepe, 
 That wept to sinne no more. 
 
 Eeepe wide of Cayphas' house, 
 Though couetous thoughts infence : 
 There bribery haunts, despare was hatcht ; 
 False Judas came from thence. 
 
 But goe on forward still, 
 
 Where Pilat's pallace stands, 
 
 There where he first did false condemne, 
 
 Then wash his guiltie hands. 
 
 Confess'd he found no cause, 
 And yet condemn'd to die, 
 Fearing an earthly Ceasar more 
 Than God that rules on hie. 
 
 By this direction then, 
 
 The way is vnderstood ; 
 
 No porch, no dore, nor hal to passe, 
 
 Vnspriukled with Christ's blood. 
 
 So shall no errour put 
 Misguiding steppes betweene ; 
 For euery drop sweet Jesus shed 
 la freshly to be seene. 
 
270 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 A crowne of piercing tliornes 
 There lies imbru'd in gore ; 
 The garland that thy Sauiour's head 
 For thy offences wore. 
 
 Which when thou shalt behold, 
 Thinke what His loue hath binne, 
 Whose head was loaden with those briars 
 T' vnlade thee of thy sinne. 
 
 Whose sacred flesh was tome ; 
 Whose holie skinne was rent ; 
 Whose tortures and extreamest paines 
 Thy paines in hell preuent. 
 
 As God from Babilon 
 Did turne, when they, past cure, 
 Refused helpe, whom He would heale, 
 Denying health t' indure : 
 
 So from Hierusalem 
 
 The soule's Phisition goes, 
 
 When they forsook His sauing health, 
 
 And vow'd themselues His foes. 
 
 Goe with Him, happie soule, 
 From that forsaken towne, 
 Vpon whose wals lies not a stone 
 But ruin must throw downe. 
 
 Followe His feet that goes 
 
 For to redeeme thy losse, 
 
 And carries all our shines with Him 
 
 To cansel on His crosse. 
 
SIGHWA1 BO MOUNT CALUARIE. 1 7 1 
 
 Behold what multitudes 
 
 Doe guard thy God about, 
 
 Who bleeding beares His dying tree 
 
 Amidst the Jewish rout! 
 
 Looke on with liquid eies, 
 
 rfgb from sorrowing mind, 
 To see the death's-man goe before, 
 The murdering troupes behind: 
 
 Centurion hard at hand, 
 
 The thieues upon the side, 
 
 The exclamations, shouts, and cries, 
 
 The shame He doth abide. 
 
 Then presse amongst the throng, 
 Thyselfe with sorrowes weed ; 
 Get very neare to Christ, and see 
 What teares the women shed ; 
 
 ■ that did turne him backe, 
 They were of such a force — 
 Teares that did purchase daughters' names 
 Of Father's kind remorse. 
 
 To whom he said, Weepe not : 
 
 For me drop not a teare ; 
 
 Bewaile your offspring, and yourselues, 
 
 Griefe's cause vnseen is neare. 
 
 Follow their steps in teares, 
 And with those women mourne, 
 But not for Christ ; weepe for thyselfe, 
 And Christ will grace returne. 
 
272 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 To Pilat's bold demands 
 
 He yeelded no replie ; 
 
 Although the iudge importuned much, 
 
 Yet silence did denie. 
 
 Vnto his manie words 
 No answer Christ would make ; 
 Yet to those women did He speake, 
 For teares' and weepings' sake. 
 
 Thinke on their force by teares — 
 Teares that obtained loue ; 
 Where words too weak could not persuade, 
 How teares had power to moue. 
 
 Then looke towards Jesus' load, 
 More then He could indure, 
 And how for helpe to beare the same, 
 A hireling they procure. 
 
 Joine thou vnto the crosse ; 
 Beare it of loue's desire, 
 Doe not as Cyranseus did, 
 That took it vp for hire. 
 
 It is a gratefull deed, 
 
 If willing vnderta'ne ; 
 
 But if compulsion set aworke, 
 
 The labour's done in vaine. 
 
 The voluntarie death, 
 Jhat Christ did die for thee, 
 Giues life to none but such as ioy 
 Crosse-bearing friends to be. 
 
EDMUND SPENSER. L»7 
 
 Vp to Mount Caluerie 
 
 If thou desire to goe, 
 
 Then take thy crosse and follow Christ, 
 
 Thou canst not misse it so. 
 
 When there thou art arriuM, 
 His glorious wounds to see, 
 Say but as faithful as the thiefe, 
 Lord, remember me. 
 
 Assure thyselfe to have 
 
 A gift all gifts excelling, 
 
 Once sold by sinne, once bought by Christ, 
 
 For saints' eternall dwelling. 
 
 By Adam Paradise 
 Was sinne's polluted shade ; 
 By Christ the dunghill Golgotha 
 A paradise was made. 
 
 FROM A HYMN OP HEAVENLY LOVE. 
 KDMUKD SPENSER. 
 
 So that next offspring of the Maker's love, 
 Next to Himselfe in glorious degree, 
 Degendering to hate, fell from above 
 Through pride, (for pride and love may ill agree,) 
 And now of sinne to all ensample bee : 
 How then can sinnful flesh itselfe assure, 
 Sith purest angels fell to be impure ? 
 
 But that Eternall Fount of love and grace, 
 Still flowing forth His goodnesse unto all, 
 Now seeing left a waste and emptie place 
 In His wyde pallace, through those angels' fall, 
 A new unknowen colony therein, 
 
 Whose root from earth's base groundworke should begin, 
 s 
 
274 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 Therefore of clay, base, vile, and next to nought, 
 Yet form'd by wondrous skill, and by His might 
 According to an heavenly patterne wrought, 
 Which He had fashion'd in His wise foresight, 
 He man did make, and breath'd a living spright 
 Into his face, most beautifull and fayre, 
 Endewd with wisedome's riches, heavenly, rare. 
 
 Such He him made that he resemble might 
 Himselfe, as mortall thing immortall could ; 
 Him to be lord of every living wight 
 He made by Love out of his owne like mould, 
 In whom He might His mightie selfe behould : 
 For Love doth love the thing beloved to see, 
 That like it selfe in lovely shape may bee. 
 
 But man, forgetfull of his Maker's grace 
 No lesse than Angels, whom he did ensew, 
 Fell from the hope of pro mist heavenly place 
 Into the mouth of Death, to sinners dew 
 And all his offspring into thraldome threw 
 Where they for ever should in bonds remaine 
 Of never-dead yet ever-dyeing paine : 
 
 Till that great Lord of Love, which him at first 
 
 Made of meere love, and after liked well 
 
 Seeing him lie like creature long accurst 
 
 In that deep horror of despeyred hell, 
 
 Him, wretch, in doole would let no longer dwell 
 
 But cast out of that bondage to redeeme, 
 
 And pay the price, all were his debt extreme. 
 
 Out of the bosome of eternall blisse, 
 
 In which He reigned with His glorious Syre 
 
 He downe descended, like a most demisse 
 
H\MN OP HEAVENLY L< 
 
 And al.joct thrall, in fleshes fraile attyre 
 That He for him might pay sinne's deadly hyre, 
 And him restore unto that happie state 
 In which he stood before his haplesse fate. 
 
 In flesh at first the guilt committed was, 
 Therefore in flesh it must be satisfyde ; 
 Nor spirit nor angel though they man surpas, 
 Could make amends to God for man's mis-guyde, 
 But onely man himselfe, who selfe did slyde : 
 So taking flesh of sacred virgin's wombe, 
 For man's deare sake He did a man become. 
 
 And that most blessed bodie, which was borne 
 Without all blemish or reprochfull blame, 
 He freely gave to be both rent and torne 
 Of cruell hands, who with despightfull shame 
 Reviling Him, that them most vile became, 
 At length Him nayled on a gallow-tree, 
 And slew the iust by most uniust decree. 
 
 O huge and most unspeakeable impression 
 
 Of Love's deep wound, that pierst the piteous hart 
 
 Of that deare Lord with so entyre affection, 
 
 And, sharply launcing every inner part, 
 
 Dolours of death into his soule did dart, 
 
 Doing Him die that never it deserved, 
 
 To free His foes, that from His heast had swerved ! 
 
 What hart can feel least touch of so sore launch, 
 
 Or thought can think the depth of so deare wound, 
 
 Whose bleeding sourse their streames yet never staunch, 
 
 But stil do flow, and freshly still redownd, 
 
 To heale the sores of sinfull soules unsound, 
 
 And cleanse the guilt of that infected cryme 
 
 Which was enrooted in all fleshly slyme. 
 
276 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 O blessed Well of Love ! O Floure of Grace ! 
 
 O glorious Morning Starre ! O Lampe of Light ! 
 
 Most lively image of Thy Father's face, 
 
 Eternal King of Glorie, Lord of Might, 
 
 Meeke Lambe of God, before all worlds behight, 
 
 How can we Thee requite for all this good, 
 
 Or what can prize that Thy most precious blood ? 
 
 Yet nought Thou ask'st in lieu of all this love, 
 
 But love of us, for guerdon of Thy paine : 
 
 Ay me ! what can us lesse than that behove 1 
 
 Had He required life for us againe, 
 
 Had it beene wrong to ask His owne with gaine 1 
 
 He gave us life, He it restored lost ; 
 
 Then life were least, that us so little cost. 
 
 But He our life hath left unto us free ; 
 Free that was thrall, and blessed that was band ; 
 Ne ought demaunds but that we loving bee, 
 As He Himselfe hath lov'd us afore-hand, 
 And bound thereto with an eternall band, 
 Him first to love that was so dearely bought, 
 And next our brethren, to His image wrought. 
 
 Him first to love great right and reason is, 
 Who first to us our life and being gave, 
 And after, when we fared had amisse, 
 Us wretches from the second death did save ; 
 And last, the food of life, which now we have, 
 Even He Himselfe in His dear sacrament, 
 To feede our hungry soules, unto us lent. 
 
 Then next, to love our brethren, that were made 
 Of that selfe mould, and that selfe Maker's hand, 
 That we, and to the same againe shall fade, 
 Where they shall have like heritage of land, 
 However here on higher steps we stand, 
 
HYMN OF HEAVENLY LOVE. -77 
 
 Which also were with selfe-same price redeem'd 
 That we, however of us light esteem'd. 
 
 And were they not, yet since that loving Lord 
 Commanded us to love them for His sake, 
 Even for His sake, and for His sacred word, 
 Which in His last bequest He to us spake, 
 We should them love, and with their needs partak 
 Knowing that whatsoe'er to them we give, 
 We give to Him by whom we all doe live. 
 
 Such mercy He by His most holy reede 
 Unto us taught, and to approve it trew, 
 Ensatnpled it by His most righteous deede, 
 Shewing us mercie (miserable crew !) 
 That we the like should to the wretches shew, 
 And love our brethren ; thereby to approve 
 How much Himselfe that loved us we love. 
 
 Then rouze thyself, earth ! out of thy soyle, 
 In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne, 
 And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle, 
 Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne ; 
 Lift up to Him thy heavy clouded eyne, 
 That thou this soveraine bountie mayst beholde, 
 And read, through Love, His mercies manifold. 
 
 Beginne from first, where He encradled was 
 In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay 
 Betweene the toylfull oxe and humble asse, 
 And in what rags, and in how base array, 
 The glory of our heavenly riches lay, 
 When Him the silly shepheards came to see, 
 Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee. 
 
 From thence reade on the storie of His life, 
 His humble carriage, His unfaulty wayes, 
 
278 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 His cancred foes, His fights, His toyle, His strife, 
 His paines, His povertie, His sharpe assayes, 
 Through which he past His miserable dayes, 
 Offending none, and doing good to all, 
 Yet being malist both by great and small. 
 
 And look at last, how of most wretched wights 
 
 He taken was, betrayd, and false accused ; 
 
 How with most scornful taunts and fell despights 
 
 He was revyld, disgrast, and foule abused ; 
 
 How scourgd, how crownd, how buffeted, how brused ; 
 
 And lastly, how twixt robbers crucifyde 
 
 With bitter wounds through hands, through feet and syde, 
 
 ITien let thy flinty hart that feeles no paine 
 
 Empierced be with pittifull remorse, 
 
 And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine 
 
 At sight of His most sacred heavenly corse, 
 
 So torne and mangled with malicious force ; 
 
 And let thy soule, whose sins His sorrows wrought, 
 
 Melt into tears, and grone in grieved thought. 
 
 With sense whereof, whilest so thy soften'd spirit 
 Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale 
 Through meditation of His endlesse merit, 
 Lift up thy mind to th' Author of thy weale, 
 And to his soveraine mercie doe appeale : 
 Learne Him to love that loved thee so deare, 
 And in thy brest His blessed image beare. 
 
 With all thy hart, with all thy soule and minde, 
 Thou must Him love, and His beheasts embrace : 
 All other loves, with which the world doth blind 
 Weake fancies, and stir up affectiones base, 
 Thou must renounce and utterly displace : 
 
SIR PHILIP 8YI 
 
 And give thyself unto Him full and free, 
 That full and freely gave Hiinselfe to thee. 
 
 Then shalt thou feele thy spirit so possest 
 And ravisht with devouring great desire 
 Of His dear selfe, that shall thy feeble brest 
 Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire 
 With burning zeale, through every part entire, 
 That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight, 
 But in His sweet and amiable sight. 
 
 Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee dye ; 
 And all earth's glorie, on which men do gaze, 
 Seeme durt and drosse in thy pure-sighted eye, 
 Compar'd to that celestiall beautie's blaze, 
 Whose glorious beames all fleshly sense doth daze 
 With admiration of their passing light 
 Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright 
 
 Then shall thy ravisht soul inspired bee 
 With heavenly thoughts, farre above humane skil, 
 And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainly see 
 Th' idee of His pure glorie present still 
 Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill 
 With sweete enragement of celestiall love, 
 Kindled through sight of those faire things above. 
 
 PSALM XXIIL 
 SIR PHILIP 8TPKKY. 
 
 The Lord, the Lord my shepheard is, 
 And so can never I 
 Tast missery. 
 He rests me in greene pastures his ; 
 By waters still and sweete 
 He guides my feete. 
 
280 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 Hee me revives ; leades me the way, 
 Which righteousnesse doth take, 
 For His name sake. 
 Yea, though I should through valleys stray 
 Of death's dark shade, I will 
 Noe whitt feare ill. 
 
 For Thou, deere Lord, Thou me besett'st, 
 Thy rodd and thy staff be 
 To comfort me : 
 Before me thou a table sett'st, 
 Even when foes' envious eye 
 Doth it espy. 
 
 Thou oil'st my head, Thou fill'st my cupp ; 
 Nay more, Thou endlesse Good, 
 Shalt give me food. 
 To Thee, I say ascended up, «► 
 
 Where Thou, the Lord of all 
 Dost hold thy hall. 
 
 MY PILGRIMAGE. 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, 
 
 My staff of faith to walk upon, 
 
 My scrip of ioye, (immortal diet 1) 
 
 My bottle of saluation, 
 
 My gowne of glory, hope's true gage j — 
 
 And thus I take my pilgrimage. 
 
 Blood must be my body's banner, 
 While my soule, like peaceful palmer, 
 Travelleth towards the land of heauen : 
 Other balm will not be giuen. 
 Over the silver mountains, 
 Where spring the nectar-fountains, 
 
GEORGE HERBERT. - B 1 
 
 There will I kiss 
 
 The bowl of bliss 
 And drink mine everlasting fill 
 Upon euery milken hill : 
 My soul will be adry before, 
 
 But after that will thirst no more. 
 
 * • * • • 
 
 PRATER. 
 OEOROI HERBERT. 
 
 Of what an easy quick access, 
 My blessed Lord, art Thou ! how suddenly 
 
 May our requests thy ear invade ! 
 To shew that state dislikes not easiness, 
 If I but lift mine eyes, my suit is mado : 
 Thou canst no more not hear, than Thou canst die. 
 
 Of what supreme almighty power 
 Is Thy great arm, which spans the east and west, 
 
 And tacks the centre to the sphere ! 
 By it do all things live their measured hour : 
 We cannot ask the thing which is not there, 
 Blaming the shallowness of our request ! 
 
 Of what immeasurable love 
 Art Thou possess'd, who when Thou couldst not die 
 
 Wert fain to take our flesh and curse, 
 And for our sakes in person sin reprove ; 
 That by destroying that which tied Thy purse 
 Thou might'st make way for liberality ! 
 
 Since then these three wait on Thy throne, 
 Ease, Power, and Love ; I value Prayer so, 
 
 That were I to leave all but one, 
 Wealth, fame, endowments, virtues, all should go: 
 1 and dear Prayer would together dwell, 
 And quickly gain, for each inch lost, an ell 
 
282 ENGLISH HYMNS. 
 
 ON THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 My Lord hath taught me how to want 
 A place wherein to put my head. 
 
 While He is mine, I'll be content 
 To beg or lack my daily bread. 
 
 Heaven is my roof, earth is my floor, 
 Thy love can keep me dry and warm ; 
 
 Christ and Thy bounty are my store, 
 Thy angels guard me from all harm. 
 
 Must I forsake the soil and air 
 
 Where first I drew my vital breath 1 
 
 That way may be as near and fair 
 Thence I may come to Thee by death. 
 
 All countries are my Father's lands — 
 Thy Sun, Thy Love doth shine on all ; 
 
 We may in all lift up pure hands, 
 And with acceptance on Thee call. 
 
 What if in prison I must dwell — 
 May I not there converse with Thee ? 
 
 Save me from sin, Thy wrath, and hell, 
 Call me Thy child, and I am free. 
 
 / No walls or bars can keep Thee out ; 
 None can confine a holy soul ; 
 The streets of heaven it walks about, 
 None can its liberty control. 
 
■!■' HOME 8IMT. TUT. ■ !ON. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HYMNS OF THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 When the great stream of Church history was parted in 
 two at the Reformation, and Christian life burst the bar- 
 riers of the middle ages, and made for itself a new channel, 
 no doubt some portion of the living waters still continued 
 to flow in the old river bed. The Reformation did not 
 draw all the life out of the Church of Rome ; and although, 
 as we believe, after Luther's time, the great chorus of 
 sacred song is to be heard among the Reformed Churches, 
 many a true psalm ascended from the midst of the unre- 
 foruuMl communities — many, doubtless, more than human 
 history has ever recorded. Yet these voices are solitary ; 
 they rise alone in a dead silence which comprehends them 
 not, or too often are hushed in a storm of opposing sound, 
 neither sacred nor melodious. While the hymns of Luther 
 and Gerhard, the Wesleys and Cowper, are responded to 
 by the hearts and voices of tens of thousands, Michael 
 Angelo's sonnets are the possession only of a choice circle, 
 nn<l Madame Guion sang the sweetest of her hymns in the 
 Bastille. The great Italian belongs, indeed, in spirit rather 
 to the Reformation than to the Church of Rome. In his 
 later years, when his Platonism found a basis for its 
 
284 THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 sublimest visions in the doctrine of the Cross ; when, in 
 his own words, his soul had been remodelled, or "born 
 anew," through the influence of Yittoria Colonna, friend 
 of the martyr Yaldes, his faith seems to have been as 
 simple as that of Luther. The architect of St Peter's — poet, 
 painter, sculptor — gifted with that central force of genius 
 from which every special talent seemed to radiate, writes 
 thus in his later years, — 
 
 Despite Thy promises, Lord, 't would seem * 
 Too much to hope that even love like Thine 
 Can overlook my countless wanderings ; 
 And yet Thy blood helps me to comprehend 
 That if Thy pangs for us were measureless, 
 No less, beyond all measure, is Thy grace. 
 
 SONNET XLIX. 
 
 From a vexatious heavy load set free, 
 Eternal Lord ! and from the world unloosed, 
 Wearied to Thee I turn, like a frail bark, 
 'Scaped from fierce storms, into a placid sea. 
 The thorns, the nails, the one and the other hand, 
 Together with Thine aspect, meek, benign, 
 And mangled, pledge the grace to mourning souls 
 Of deep repentance and salvation's hope. 
 View not my sins in the condemning light 
 Of justice strict : avert Thine awful ear, 
 Nor stretch forth on me Thine avenging arm. 
 May Thy blood wash my guilt and sins away ; 
 As age creeps on, may it abound the more 
 With timely aid, and full forgiveness ! 
 
 * From the Life of Michael Angelo Buonarotti. By John S. Harford, Esq. 
 
MICHAEL AXGELO. 
 
 And in hU eighty-third year : — 
 
 TO VABAHI. 
 
 Time my frail bark o'er a rough ocean guides, 
 
 Swift to that port where all must touch that lire, 
 
 And of their actions, good or evil, give 
 
 A strict account, where Truth supreme presides. 
 
 As to gay Fancy, in which art confides, 
 
 And even her idol and her monarch makes, 
 
 Full well I know how largely it partakes 
 
 Of error ; but frail man in error prides. 
 
 Thy thoughts, once prompt round hurtful things to twine, 
 
 What are they now, when two dread deaths are near ! 
 
 The one impends, the other shakes his spear, 
 
 Painting and Sculpture's aid in vain I crave ; 
 
 My one sole refuge is that Love Divine, 
 
 Which from the cross stretch'd forth its arms to save. 
 
 Words of deepest interest, whether we look on them as 
 the childlike homage of one of the strongest and loftiest 
 of human intellects at the foot of the Cross, or as an illus- 
 tration of the many pure hymns of hope and thanksgiving 
 which may have been sung to God, from that day to this, 
 in the Church whose outward communion Michael An- 
 gelo never left. Madame Guion's hymns are, however, 
 perhaps a truer type of the form which genuine piety has 
 been driven into in the Roman Catholic Church since the 
 Council of Trent anathematised the doctrine of justifica- 
 tion by faith. Forbidden to rest on the definite and solid 
 foundation of Scriptural doctrine, the heart of Madame 
 Guion, taught of God to rest in His redeeming love, soared 
 into a region of lofty mysticism, and by the combined force 
 of much grace and much imagination, kept on the wing. 
 
286 THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 She grasped the great central truth that God is love, and 
 in His love she rested ; she was content to be nothing that 
 He might be all ; and in His will hers was, she believed, 
 absorbed. And she surely must have experienced deep arid 
 blessed communion with Him. Yet in those of her hymns 
 translated by Cowper, is there not a sad dearth of the 
 strain which is first and last in the new song, " Thou 
 wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by Thy blood" 1 
 She speaks of God as love, but the title which the 
 apostle of love delights in, from the beginning of his 
 Gospel to the end of the Apocalypse, "The Lamb of 
 God," is little heard in her poems. "When the Cross is 
 mentioned, it is rather the cross of the disciple than the 
 blood-stained and redeeming Cross of the Lord. That 
 title, which links human relationships with heaven, is not 
 frequent there. God is contemplated rather as a mystic 
 abyss of infinite love, than as the Father of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, who is also our Father. The words " God 
 is love," are perhaps understood rather as an abstract pro- 
 position concerning His nature, than as the truth which 
 makes the doctrine of the Trinity in Unity living and 
 personal — eternal and infinite love with an eternal and 
 infinite object : " The Father loveth the Son." Thus in 
 practical life there is danger of the Christian and human 
 ideal being in a measure replaced by the stoic or super- 
 natural. Human relationships are looked on as hinder- 
 ances to the highest piety, rather than as God's appointed 
 means of its manifestation ; the love of His creatures is 
 considered rather as a rival to the love of the Creator, 
 than as the necessary consequence of that highest love. 
 Is it not forgotten that the Gospel which contains most of 
 
mai EOT. 287 
 
 what U called the mystic or Platonic element, con 
 also the most homely touches of simple, human tender- 
 ness 1 that the apostle who speaks of the Son of God as 
 " the Word," speaks of Him also as the special human 
 I ? that the seer of the apocalyptic vision was M tJw 
 dketplfl whom Jesus loved, who had leaned on his breast 
 at supper " ? 
 
 Many of Madame Guion's hymns on submission to the 
 will of God, are, indeed, full of expressions of the most 
 humble and blessed confidence. See, for example, tliat 
 one, so well-known in Cowper s translation : — 
 
 Thou, by long experience 1 1 
 Near whom no grief can long abide ; 
 My Love ! how full of sweet content 
 
 1 pass my years of banishment ! 
 
 All scenes alike engaging prove 
 To souls impress'd with sacred love ; 
 Where'er they dwell, they dwell in Thee, 
 In heaven, in earth, or on the sea. 
 
 To me remains nor place nor time, 
 My country is in every clime; 
 I can be calm and free from care 
 On any shore, since God is there. 
 
 While place we seek, or place we shun, 
 The soul can find repose in none ; 
 But with a God to guide our way, 
 Tis equal joy to go or stay. 
 
 Could I be cast where Thou art not, 
 That were indeed a dreadful lot; 
 
288 THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 But regions none remote I call, 
 Secure of finding God in all. 
 
 My country, Lord, art Thou alone ; 
 No other can I claim or own : 
 The point where all my wishes meet, 
 My law, my love, life's only sweet. 
 
 I hold by nothing here below ; 
 
 Appoint my journey, and I go ; 
 
 Though pierced by scorn, oppress'd by pride, 
 
 I feel Thee good — feel nought beside. 
 
 No frowns of men can hurtful prove 
 To souls on fire with heavenly love ; 
 Though men and devils both condemn, 
 No gloomy days arise from them. 
 
 Ah, then ! to His embrace repair ; 
 My soul, thou art no stranger there ; 
 There love divine shall be thy guard, 
 And peace and safety thy reward. 
 
 It is impossible not to listen with sympathy and reve- 
 rence to words like these, which were, there can be no 
 doubt, the genuine experience of the writer; tried and 
 found true metal in many a fire of reproach and tribulation. 
 Yet is there not an example before us, at first sight, to 
 the careless glance perhaps, less exalted, yet in reality 
 far more sublime, because more lowly, more Godlike, be- 
 cause more human? 
 
 Sorrow and joy were not "equal" to Him in whose 
 steps we are called to follow; no stoic resolution raised 
 
8EI.1 nnihii.at: 
 
 Him above the anguish of bodilj pain or mental contlict. 
 It was not indifferent to Him that the three He had c 
 apart slept during His hours of agony, or thai the disciple 
 He had saved from sinking in the sea of Galilee, denied 
 Him in the hall of Caiaphas. And however much the 
 agonies of expiation increased His sufferings, and made 
 them of a different nature from any of ours, yet in this 
 also He left us an example. If Stephen died in joy and 
 not in darkness, it was not because joy and sorrow were 
 rendered equal to him, but because Jesus was revealed to 
 him, and gave him joy, and made his martyrdom a triumph. 
 It may seem a high attainment when chastening com-, 
 to rise above it and trample it beneath our feet; but, 
 perhaps, in eyes which see more truly than ours, it is 
 higher still to bow beneath it, and feel the anguish, and 
 weep, and tremble, and yet endure, and believe in the 
 Love which smites — loftier, because more lowly. Sorrow 
 can scarcely be discipline unless it is pain, and the con- 
 nexion is close between the chastening which for the 
 time seemed to be grievous, and the peaceable fruits 
 which follow. In aspiring in this life to the "repose" of 
 heaven, there is danger of sinking into the mere stillness 
 of frost. And even heaven itself is pictured to us, not as 
 an ocean of eternal calm, but a city where there is cease- 
 less activity, a temple where there is perpetual worship, 
 The beatific vision is associated with the . unwearied 
 service : God Himself is revealed to us as " working 
 hitherto," is manifested to us in Him who went about 
 doing good ; for God is love, and love is at once perfect 
 repose and ceaseless action. 
 
290 THE CHUKCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 Is there not also an unconscious contradiction in Madame 
 Guion's whole religious system ? While professing to dis- 
 regard frames and feelings, and to rise above all desire of 
 even spiritual joy into a sublime calm of love and sub- 
 mission, is not this absence of emotion only another form 
 of emotion 1 Does not this supposed self-annihilation 
 involve, in fact, the most ceaseless and subtle self-study 
 and introspection 1 God can only be made known to us 
 by an outward or an inward revelation. Both are found 
 in Christianity — the manifestation of God in Christ, and 
 the inward manifestation of the Father and the Son to 
 the heart by the Holy Spirit. But it makes all the dif- 
 ference in practical religion whether the hidden life is 
 believed to be nourished by the contemplation of the in- 
 ward or the outward revelation, because the one belief 
 leads to the study of Christ, and the other to the intro- 
 spection of self, even though veiled under the title of self- 
 annihilation. The Bible has not left us in the dark on 
 this subject. The question has been asked and answered : 
 " Judas saith unto him, not Iscariot, Lord, how is it that 
 thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the 
 world % Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man 
 love me, he will keep my words : and my Father will love 
 him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode 
 with him." And again, " But we all, with open face be- 
 holding as m a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed 
 into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the 
 Spirit of the Lord f and, " When he shall appear we shall 
 be like him, for we shall see him as he is." Are we not 
 thus plainly taught that the Word of God, the outward 
 
291 
 
 ti..n, is the means of the inward illumination? that 
 the soul is gradually transfigured by the contemplation of 
 Jesus into His image, as the body will be hereafter sud- 
 denly transfigured into His perfect likeness, when "we 
 see Him as He is"? And this outward iv\« lation is, we 
 know, no philosophical essay, no collection of abstract 
 propositions, but the narrative of the human life and 
 death of Jesus of Nazareth, son of David, and Son of 
 God, with all that led to that great central point of reve- 
 lation, and that flowed from it. Therefore, sublime and 
 poetical as Madame Guion's hymns are (in Cowper's trans- 
 lations), snrely his own, and even John Newton's, are far 
 more truly sublime, as well as more practical, simply 
 because more deeply steeped in the Evangelical history. 
 Where, in all the mystic writers, can be found verses 
 which have melted, and humbled, and cheered the heart 
 like those of Cowper's, shadowed even as some of them 
 are by his own distressing malady — " Oh for a closer walk 
 with God." "There is a fountain til I'd with blood." "Hark, 
 my soul ! it is the Lord" " Jesus, where'er Thy people 
 meet." " What various hindrances we meet" " The Spirit 
 breathes upon the Word." " 'Tis my happiness below 
 not to live without the cross." "The l>ilh>w> swill, the 
 winds are high." " God of my life, to Thee I call." " O 
 Lord, my best desire fulfil." " Sometimes a light surprises." 
 " I thirst, but not as once I did." " To Jesus, the Crown 
 of my hope ;" and that matchless hymn, " God moves in a 
 mysterious way." What variety and tenderness ; what 
 childlike trnst, and what holy fear ; what trembling and 
 rejoicing ; what tears and what love thrill through those 
 
292 THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 hymns ! How plainly they are the utterance of life, not 
 indeed the life that perisheth, but a new and immortal life, 
 full of new relationships, new hopes and fears — heavenly, 
 yet most human ; a life brought to perfection through 
 storms and calms, sunshine and rain, bleak winds and soft 
 breezes; a life not moulded to its full perfection at once, 
 as man's works are, but "born" weak and small, and 
 developed, through joy and sorrow, tender nurture, and 
 hard discipline, to what it shall be, which we know not 
 yet! 
 
 Nevertheless, whilst it seems too plain that the Church 
 of Rome, in rejecting the Scriptural creed, has stunted or 
 distorted even the religious life which remains among her 
 adherents, we cannot but welcome every symptom that 
 such life existed or exists beneath her sway, the issue of a 
 fountain all her efforts cannot wholly seal. One " means 
 of grace" is generally insured to Christians in her com- 
 munion, for lack of which pruning Protestant piety 
 sometimes runs into leaf. The sacrament of martyrdom 
 has seldom failed any who have sought truly to serve God 
 within her pale. In this way she has faithfully presented 
 the cup to the laity. Jansenists drank deep of it ; it was 
 held to the unmurmuring lips of F6n61on ; and Madame 
 Guion tasted it from the hands of Bossuet. Those who 
 procured the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and, 
 according to the Duke of St Simon, thus robbed France 
 of her most industrious citizens, were too keen-sighted 
 not to recognise in Madame Guion the same family-like- 
 ness, though unknown to herself. It must indeed have 
 been from heaven that hymns like those she sang flowed 
 
[thin tlio atm<»-]»lii'iv of tin* court of 
 LooJl XIV., ami it was an lion <>ur to be sent, as she was, 
 by that court to finish them in the Bastille. 
 
 Mystic adoration of Him who is love is not, how. 
 the characteristic of the popular hymns of the Church of 
 Rome. The one " pierced through with many sorrows," 
 to whom Goethe's Gretchen prayed in her anguish ; to 
 whom the hearts of thousands and tens of thousands 
 throughout Europe turn as the " refuge of the sinner" 
 an.l " the consolation of the afflicted ;" to win -in tin* morn- 
 ing and evening hymns of childhood are lisped, and to 
 whom the mourner turns, is not the Father who so loved 
 the world, nor the Man of sorrows who was " wounded for 
 our transgressions." The old hymns to Christ are in tin* 
 Latin prayer-books, but the Ave Maria is on the li|>s of 
 the people. Yet surely some drops of the living foun- 
 tain still well up through the ice ; the crucifix itself may 
 teach some hearts, and all eyes are not turned aside from 
 the Divine Redeemer dying there, to the weeping mother 
 whom He comforted. 
 
 The following hymn, which has been attributed to 
 Francis Xavier, canonised saint of the Church of Rome, 
 that devoted missionary in India and China, is, we may 
 trust, but one of many such sacred songs which rise to 
 God throughout the regions where the Church of Xavier 
 reigns. It breathes the spirit of the mysticism of Madame 
 Guion, or rather of the amour pure of F£n61on ; but 
 while it rejects the thought of reward, it is rooted deep in 
 gratitude, and is steeped in the love of the Cross. It is 
 given both in Latin and English, because the original is 
 
294 THE CHURCH OF ROME SINCE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 so simple as necessarily to lose much of its depth and 
 beauty in a translation, — 
 
 ORATIO AD DEUM. 
 
 FRANCIS XAVIER. 
 
 O Deus, ego amo te ; 
 
 Nee amo te ut salves me, 
 Aut quia non amantes te 
 
 iEterno punis igne. 
 
 Tu, Tu, mi Jesu, totum me 
 
 Amplexus es in cruce ; 
 Tulisti clavos, lanceam, 
 
 Multamque ignominiam, 
 
 Innumeros dolores, 
 
 Sudores et angores, 
 Ac mortem, et hsec propter me, 
 
 Ac pro me peccatore. 
 
 Cur igitur non am em Te, 
 
 Jesu amantissime ! 
 Non, ut in coelo salves me, 
 
 Aut ne sternum damnes me ; 
 
 Nee prcemii ullius spe, 
 
 Sed sicut tu amasti me ; 
 Sic amo et amabo te, 
 
 Solum quia Hex meus es, 
 
 Et solum quia Deus es. 
 
 O God ! my heart is fix'd on Thee, 
 Not that Thou may'st deliver me, 
 Nor because those who love not Thee 
 
xavier's hymn. 295 
 
 In quenchless fire must languish; 
 But thou, my Saviour, on the tree, 
 Embraoedst me with mercy free, 
 For me didst bitter mockings bear, 
 For me the torturing nails and spear, 
 
 Much shame and speechless anguish ; 
 And death itself and all for me, 
 
 And in my stead, a sinner. 
 How therefore can I not love Thee, 
 O worthy best beloved to be, 
 Not for the hope of joy in heaven, 
 Nor fear lest I to hell be driven, 
 Nor, O my freely loving Lord ! 
 For any promise of reward, 
 But all because Thou lovedst me ! 
 
 Thus love I Thee with steadfast heart 
 Only because my King Thou art, 
 
 And because Thou art God. 
 
296 CONCLUSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 We have been listening to the murmurs of the great 
 stream of sacred song as it has flowed on from age to age — 
 sometimes nearly buried in the sands of time, sometimes 
 parted into many smaller streams ; now bursting bar- 
 riers of centuries in a rush of music, and then flowing 
 calmly in a broader current — but never utterly dried up 
 or silent. Never has the ceaseless song of Nature to her 
 Maker been altogether without words ; the music of the 
 Creature has never been wholly unaccompanied by the 
 hymn of the Child. The new song of the redeemed hushed 
 the first discords of the Fall, and met the echoes of the ear- 
 lier song of unfallen creatures ere they were quite lost inside 
 the closed gates of Eden. Ever the same, it has yet been 
 ever new. It has been no languid, luxurious strain, float- 
 ing over a banquet. Like the old song of Moses, it has been 
 throughout a battle-song — a chant, indeed, of victory and 
 redemption, but sung by pilgrims and soldiers who had 
 yet a wilderness to cross ere they reached the land of 
 promise and the city of God. From the day when Mary 
 the mother of Jesus sang the first Christian hymn, to 
 the latest that has entered our modern hymn-books, One 
 Name, which is above every name, has made all its music. 
 
Ephraem, the Syrian monk, 8anir oi of in ' 
 
 when once the children of Jerusalem had strewed their 
 palm branches; Gregory Nazianzen, poor, old, rod lowly, 
 found Him fatherland and home; Ambrose filled .Milan 
 with the praises of the I r of the nations, the Sun 
 
 of righteousness ; Prudential sang how the dead reposed 
 i I lira ; Bernard rejoiced in His cross and His pre; 
 Luther called on all Christian people to triumph in His 
 completed redemption : tied to Him whOe the 
 
 tempest still was high; Cowper pointed to the Fountain 
 which could wash all stains away. All sang as of a vic- 
 tory already won, and yet as themselves still in the battle- 
 field, and pressing onward to the prize. They sang of a 
 Sun which had arisen, and yet, as travellers at night, of a 
 Day which had yet to dawn. They sang of Redemption 
 already accomplished, but also of a City yet to come. And 
 the Sun whose light they knew, yet waited for, the Victor 
 and Redeemer, the Captain in the present warfare, the 
 Joy and Glory of the heavenly city, are all One. All along 
 the ages, through all the tumult of the world, and all the 
 wanderings of the Church, that song has never paused. 
 The joyful "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to 
 God by Thy blood," of those who have overcome, has never 
 been without its echo from the struggling multitudes on 
 the battle-field below. Nor is it pausing now. Mercies, new 
 every morning, are still calling forth new songs of praise. 
 
 " To every freshly opening flower 
 Fresh songs of joy are due ; 
 For whilst time flies and comes no more, 
 The- seasons bloom anew." * 
 
 * Goethe. 
 
298 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The snow-drops of this spring are as pure and fresh as 
 they were when the world was young. The birds wel- 
 comed the sunrise this morning with as keen a joy as they 
 did when first he dawned on Eden. Infant life is as fresh 
 to-day as when the first child earth ever saw played at the 
 feet of Eve ; and spiritual life is as fresh to-day as when 
 Enoch walked with God. Nature never grows old ; the 
 youth of the Church of God is as unfading as that of the 
 angels at the sepulchre, the "young men" in shining 
 garments, who had shouted for joy at the creation ; and 
 as the Church is, so is each of her members. The good 
 tidings strike with as fresh a joy on the heart of him who 
 believes them first to-day as they did on the shepherds 
 from the lips of angels, or on St Paul from the voice of 
 Jesus. And therefore the great matin hymn still rises 
 ever new from earth to heaven. 
 
 How many sweet and joyous, or deep and touching 
 hymns are there in our days, as doubtless there have been 
 in all times, which never reach beyond the little family 
 or social circle which they gladden ! How many have 
 been written to comfort one sorrowful heart, and, having 
 accomplished that, are heard no more ! How many gush 
 out on occasion of some especial sorrow, or joy, or deliver- 
 ance, and are forgotten like the song of the birds who 
 poured out their happy music yesterday morning ! 
 
 Yet none of these are lost ; they reach God, to whom 
 they are sung, and they speak of Him to man — and more 
 neither song nor singer can seek to be or do. And not 
 only this. There are tens of thousands who never wrote a 
 hymn, who may yet have made better spiritual music 
 
DEVELOPMENT OP CHRI8TIAN DOCTBINBL 2U9 
 
 with many hymns than those who wrote them. The hymn- 
 writer only speaks the thought or feeling of nil Chris- 
 tians, and the echo may often be sweeter and purer than 
 the original notes, because less mixed up with self. The 
 faith which sees the Invisible, and is loftier than all flighti 
 of imagination, is not the dower of a few, but the heritage 
 of all. The whole Church is a Choir as well as a 1' 
 hood. The harps of God, with the priestly robes of fes- 
 tival, and the victor's crowns, are the purchased possession 
 of all who stand by that sea of glass mingled with lire. 
 But what those images mean, and what that song and 
 that joy will be, we know not yet ; we only know that 
 it shall be, and that its first notes are only to be learned 
 on earth. 
 
 Has there not, moreover, amidst all the din and dis- 
 cord around, been a growing beauty and power in this 
 song? Has there not been a development of Christian 
 doctrine, not independent of the Bible, but evolved out 
 of it ? Has not the Church been gradually mounting to 
 the height of the Book, and can we not, in some measure, 
 trace this in her hymns 1 Is not the expiatory power of 
 the death of the Lamb of God more fully brought out in . 
 the Ambrosian than in the Oriental hymns? Through 
 the wars and convulsions of the middle ages, when the 
 soil of modern society was being formed by the crumbling 
 of old civilisations and the upheaving of new races ; 
 through those times of darkness and tumult, when it 
 seemed so often as if the end of all things must be at 
 hand to close the terrible struggle, whilst the apprehen- 
 sion of the " day of wrath " was often so present and 
 
300 CONCLUSION. 
 
 vivid, did not the Cross shine more and more clearly as 
 the one refuge from the judgment-throne? And then 
 when instead of the dreaded judgment the long-suffering 
 of God sent the Reformation, when before, since the days 
 of St Paul, had the world ever heard with such force and 
 clearness the tidings of great joy — that Jesus is now not 
 the Lawgiver and the Judge, but the Forgiver of sins 
 and the Saviour — as from the lips of Martin Luther? 
 Again, when in the eighteenth century Zinzendorf and 
 the Wesleys arose, did not the old message gain some- 
 thing fresh from the old fountain as it issued thence 
 anew ? To Luther, the Grand Turk and the Pope of Rome 
 were simply Antichrists ; to Zinzendorf, and the evan- 
 gelical English Christians of the eighteenth century, the 
 heathen were part of that lost world which the Son of 
 God came to redeem. To the age of battle for the truth 
 succeeded the age of propagation of the gospel. The 
 hymn-books of the eighteenth century begin to contain 
 missionary hymns. 
 
 And now, in our hymns of to-day, is there nothing 
 fresh ? Does not that " glorious hope," the light of the day 
 of the appearing of Christ, shine more brightly in some 
 of these than it has since the Thessalonians "turned 
 from idols to serve the living God, and to wait for His Son 
 from heaven " ? As in the time of the Reformation the 
 teaching of St Paul was brought out with such fresh 
 power that it seemed then first understood, and the way 
 of salvation and peace was made plain, are there not yet 
 . depths in the Gospel of St John, and heights in the Apo- 
 calyptic vision, a fulness of revelation of Him who is at 
 
mi m.w 80N0. 301 
 
 once the Lamb of God and the Son of man, the Son of 
 God and the Bridegroom of the CI mn-li, whirh the Church 
 is yet slowly travelling up t<> :i| »in>h«ii<l / .May then n<»t 
 yet even on earth be long psahns and hymns and spirit ual 
 MfigB, deeper and nmrc hca\ciily than any earth has 
 ever yet heard ¥ For the Church is not journeying away 
 from the first Advent, but on to the second ; nor is she 
 left to dig for herself her treasures of truth out of a Book 
 written in a language dead for centuries. The Book is 
 spoken to her still by a living Voice, the Voice of Him 
 who testifies of Jesus. 
 
 The song of redemption is no mere echo of an earlier 
 song pealing in fainter and fainter cadence from age to 
 age. It is the rebound of the living waters ever freshly 
 Sowing from heaven to earth; and if anything of echo 
 mingles with it, it is the reverberation of a song which is 
 drawing nearer and nearer — the song of the great multi- 
 tude which no man can number, which is to burst on 
 earth in the Day which is approaching. For there is a 
 triumphal entry to come ; the gates of the heavenly City 
 shall yet open wide, and the multitude from within shall 
 meet the throng coming up from the Jordan and the wil- 
 derness, and both shall form one adoring company round 
 Him who cometh no more in humiliation, but mighty to 
 save. No cross shall follow that day of triumph ; those 
 songs shall never again fall into discord, nor be quenched 
 in tears ; and in the temple in which that procession shall 
 close there shall be no Pharisees, nor traffickers to be ex- 
 pelled, and no blind or lame to be healed ; for none shall 
 glory there* save in One Name, and none shall need heal- 
 
302 CONCLUSION. 
 
 ing, for the Life Himself shall be with them, and they 
 shall be like Him. 
 
 Are we also singing that song to Him who hath loved 
 ns, and washed us from our sins in His own blood ? Its 
 first notes can only be learned on earth, and we may be sure 
 that the feeblest voice which has uttered but one trem- 
 bling strain of its undying music here, shall never sink 
 into the bitter wailing of those who have rejected mercy 
 and forfeited hope. 
 
 But if we have indeed learned something of that re- 
 deeming love which has made the song of thanksgiving and 
 holy joy once more a possibility for fallen and sinful man, 
 are Ave singing it day by day ? Does thanksgiving blend 
 with our first thoughts at morning, and our last at night 
 — thanksgiving amidst trial, as well as after it 1 Do our 
 hearts sing to God as we are about our daily work, as 
 well as when we are engaged in what seems His more 
 especial work 1 If it is so, and more and more as it is so, 
 our work shall become worship, and our whole lives a 
 service of song in the house of the Lord. For in propor- 
 tion as our religion is a fountain of inward peace, will it 
 be a source of practical power. Happiness is the normal 
 state of God's creatures, broken only by sin and its 
 bitter fruits ; and the common daylight of His presence 
 is joy. 
 
 The one sorrowful act of the Christian temple-service 
 is accomplished for ever. The whole curse and bitter 
 penalty of sin have been borne by the Holy Judge Him- 
 self, and in place of the cup of anguish which He drained, 
 the Crucified presents to us the cup of blessing. The 
 
THK M 303 
 
 union-feast is our OOOH tk Of Calvary. 
 
 h the oil of gladin- and tl 
 are the daily app*rd <>t" ail khf redeemed, and tibe true 
 
 nn»l native speech of the I'lumli on earth and in b 
 is Song. 
 
 TIIE END. 
 
 BALUA VTYSE AXD OOMPA>V, FRIXTKW, EUlHBTROff. 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
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