macy with every circumstance of the crucifixion; it calculates on that scene being as really pictured forth by the mind of the Protestant worshipper, as it might be in that of the imaginative Italian, under all the exalting influence of the previous ceremonies of the holy week, and the perpetual presentation of the crucifix.

، Bound upon the accursed tree,
Faint and bleeding, Who is he?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood, and writhing limb;
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierc'd,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dew'd brow-
Son of Man, 'tis thou, 'tis thou.

، Bound upon the accursed tree,
Dread and awful, Who is he ?
By the sun, at noonday pale ;
Shivering rocks and rending vail;
By earth, that trembles at his doom,
By yon saints, that burst the tomb ;
By Eden, promis'd, ere he died,
To the felon at his side-
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow;
Son of God, 'tis thou, 'tis thou.

، Bound upon the accursed tree,
Sad and dying, Who is he?
By the last and bitter cry,
The ghost given up in agony.
By the lifeless body, laid
In the chambers of the dead;
By the mourners, come to weep
Where the bones of Jesus sleep;
Crucified-We know thee now,
Son of Man, 'tis thou, 'tis thou.
، Bound upon the accursed tree,
Dread and awful, Who is he?
By the prayer for them that slew,
"Lord, they know not what they do;"
By the spoil'd and empty grave,
By the souls he died to save,
By the conquest he hath won,
By the saints before his throne,
By the rainbow round his brow-
Son of God, 'tis thou, 'tis thou.'

Where the service is without any particular character, and points at no particular incident in the Christian history, the bishop has usually framed his hymn upon some allusion to the gospel of the day. His hymns, therefore, are clearly more appropriate to the pause between the communion service, in which the gospel is read, and the sermon. Perhaps if psalms and hymns were compiled in something like an equal number, the interval between the prayers and communion service might be always supplied by a psalm. But in some cases we must acknowledge that the bishop has been tempted, by his own limitation, into writing a short poem on the subject of the gospel, rather than merely taken a hint for an address to the Almighty, which we conceive to be the great characteristic of an hymn. Take, for instance, the following stanzas, in our opinion extremely beautiful in thought, expression, and rhythm, on the raising of the widow's son.

، Wake not, oh mother ! sounds of lamentation ;
Weep not, oh widow ! weep not hopelessly !
Strong is his arm, the bringer of salvation!
Strong is the word of God to succour thee.

Bear forth the cold corpse, slowly, slowly bear him;
Hide his pale features with the sable pall;
Chide not the sad one wildly weeping o'er him,
Widow'd and childless, she has lost her all.

Why

Why pause the mourners, who forbids our weeping?
Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delay'd?
'Set down the bier-he is not dead, but sleeping!
'Young man, arise!' He spake, and was obey'd.

Change then, oh sad one, grief to exultation!
Worship and fall before Messiah's knee,
Strong was his arm, the bringer of salvation!

Strong was the word of God to succour thee.'

The most important principle in the composition of hymns, however, as well as in the selection of psalms, is that which we have already partially developed, but which we would illustrate still further, namely, that they should be so general that any individual in a Christian assembly may join in them without impropriety, and at the same time possess a sort of personal applicability to each separate worshipper. Hymns for public service should be suited to all times and seasons, to every rank and condition of men, to every state of religious feeling. They are the common property of the religious assembly; each individual may appropriate their general language, as far as possible, to his peculiar case; but he must not expect them to accommodate themselves to what we will call the accidents of his spiritual state. Their prayers must be for the blessings which all alike stand in need of: their thanksgivings for mercies in which all partake. Hence the essential distinction between hymns and devotional poetry. What is permitted to, and often constitutes the beauty of the latter, is precisely that which renders it unfit for the former. Let us first take an extreme case : we find in more than one collection of hymns for public devotion, Pope's well-known address of the dying Christian to his soul. Could absurdity be more glaring than to hear two thousand hale and lusty Christians shouting out to their departing spirits, as if in articulo mortis? To the department of devotional poetry we assign over very far the largest portion of Mr. Montgomery's copious collection. We apprehend it was meant by that gentleman rather for the closet than the public assembly of Christians. He himself would be the first to perceive the unfitness of some of his own compositions for congregational worship. We may quote, for example, his very pleasing stanzas upon prayer.

6 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,

Utter'd or unexpress'd;

The motion of a hidden fire,

That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near,

Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try,

Prayer the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air,
His watchward at the gates of death-
He enters heaven with prayer.

Prayer

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice

Returning from his ways; While angels in their songs rejoice,

And cry, "Behold he prays."

;

Nor prayer is made on earth alone,
The Holy Spirit pleads,
And Jesus on the eternal throne,
For mourners intercedes.

O thou by whom we come to God,
The life, the truth, the way,
The path of prayer thyself hast trod,
Lord, teach us how to pray.'

The saints in prayer appear as one In word, and deed, and mind While with the Father and the Son, Sweet fellowship they find. This is a beautiful poem, but surely not a hymn. Indeed we are not unwilling to excuse ourselves, on account of the narrow limits of our subject, from a more detailed examination of Mr. Montgomery's volume, as, having been bred in a different school, we fear we should differ most decidedly in our estimate both of poets and particular compositions.

Devotional poetry is often more touching-it acquires an air of truth and reality-if it abound in personal allusion, if it appear to have been drawn from the heart of the poet, by actual circumstances; but as we should deeply regret, if, from the pulpits of the established church, we were to be perpetually edified by the personal experiences, the confessions' of the preacher,* so devotional poetry should seek an echo to its expressions of deep depression, of passionate emotion, and of spiritual dismay or distress, in the heart of the retired and solitary reader, not in the public and mingled assembly of all ranks and orders. We shall select two poems, among the best which modern religious poetry has produced, to make our meaning still more evident. The following is, we believe, by a gentleman who holds a distinguished rank in his Majesty's councils.

When gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few;
On Him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain;
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
Ifought should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way;
To flee the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do,
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceived by those 1 prized so well;
He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer woe-
At once betrayed, denied, or fled
By those that shared his daily bread.

When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And sore dismay'd my spirit dies;
Yet He, who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly sooth, shall gently dry
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
And from his hand, and voice, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;
My Saviour marks the tears I shed,
For Jesus wept o'er Lazarus dead.'
And O, when I have safely pass'd
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, Lord, unchanging watch beside
My dying bed, for thou hast died.
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tears away.

Those of our readers who are acquainted with the Olney Hymns will better comprehend our views. Most of these, however, rank so low in the scale of poetry, that we cannot persuade ourselves to quote from them. The few of a higher order are precisely those best adapted, if any are so, for general use.

We

We might, perhaps, have selected a poem more to our purpose, as there is nothing in the preceding strictly inapplicable to any believer at any period; but its beauty tempted us, and to our feelings it is characterised by a personality and particularity which set it apart for private repetition, rather than public worship. Upon similar principles several of the best compositions in the volume before us must pass over into the ranks, the highest ranks indeed, of devotional or religious poetry. In the following nervous and animated stanzas, the allusion to the rich man in the parable is too remote for immediate comprehension; the supposition, that his living and his funeral pomp are alternately passing along, draws far too largely on the imagination; and it is obvious that the apostrophe, which is licensed boldness in the poet, would come with utter impropriety from the lips of a religious assembly.

'Room for the proud! ye sons of clay,
From far his sweeping pomp survey,
Nor, rashly curious, clog the way

His chariot wheels before.
Lo! with what scorn his lofty eye
Glances o'er age and poverty,
And bids intruding conscience fly

Far from his palace door.

Room for the proud! but slow the feet
That bear his coffin down the street:
And dismal seems his winding-sheet
Who purple lately wore.

Ah, where must now his spirit fly
In naked trembling agony?
Or how shall he for mercy cry,

Who show'd it not before?
Room for the proud! in ghastly state
The lords of hell his coming wait;
And, flinging wide the dreadful gate

That shuts to ope no more,
"Lo here with us the seat," they cry,
"For him who mock'd at poverty
And bade intruding conscience fly
Far from his palace door."'

That which we shall next quote is perfect in tone and feeling, but, we think, must retire among those which we consecrate to the private intercourse of man with his Maker.

'Oh God, my sins are manifold, against my life they cry,
And all my guilty deeds foregone, up to thy temple fly;
Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to despair is driven;
"Forgive"-a blessed voice replied, and thou shalt be forgiven.

My foemen, Lord! are fierce and fell, they spurn me in their pride,
They render evil for my good, my patience they deride-
Arise, oh King! and be the proud to righteous ruin driven;
"Forgive"- -an awful answer came, as thou would'st be forgiven.

Seven times, oh Lord! I pardon'd them, seven times they sinned again;
They practise still to work me woe, they triumph in my pain;
But let them dread my vengeance now, to just resentment driven;
"Forgive"-the voice of thunder spake, or never be forgiven.'

We must not, however, confine ourselves to those compositions which we think unfit for the purpose to which they were designed. Unless too poetical, (a strange objection,) the following appears to demand our attention as more nearly in accordance with the true character of an hymn for public service.

'I praised

"I praised the earth, in beauty seen, With garlands gay of various green; I praised the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield; And earth and ocean seemed to say, "Our beauties are but for a day."

I praised the sun, whose chariot roll'd
On wheels of amber and of gold;
I praised the moon, whose softer eye
Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky;
And moon and sun in answer said,
"Our days of light are numbered."

Oh God, oh good beyond compare!
If thus thy meaner works are fair!
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruined earth, and sinful man;
How glorious must the mansion be

Where thy redeem'd shall dwell with thee !'

Should, however, the fastidious critic require greater simplicity than in the preceding, we think the first hymn in the volume will unite all suffrages, as it seems to us to accord with all the principles on which a hymn should be constructed. We should be inclined, likewise, to add that for the Sunday after Christmas, and the popular missionary hymn.

'Hosanna to the living Lord!
Hosanna to the Incarnate Word,
To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King,
Let earth, let heaven, Hosanna sing,
Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest.
Hosanna! Lord! thine angels cry;
Hosanna Lord! thy saints reply;
Above, beneath us, and around,
The dead and living swell the sound,
Hosanna! &c.

Oh Saviour! with protecting care
Return to this thy house of prayer!
Assembled in thy sacred name,
Where we thy parting promise claim.
Hosanna! &c.

But chiefest, in our cleansed breast,
Eternal! bid thy spirit rest,
And make our secret soul to be
A temple pure and worthy thee,
Hosanna! &c.

So in the last and dreadful day,

When earth and heaven shall melt away,
My flesh, redeem'd from sinful stain,
Shall swell the sound of praise again,

Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest!'

In the rigid principles which we have laid down we may appear to have placed great and almost insuperable difficulties in the way of those who would compose hymns for the public service. We confess, the more deeply we have considered the subject, the higher is our admiration of the manner in which the liturgy of the church of England has been selected and compiled. Divesting ourselves, as far as possible, of the influence of old associations, and by no means denying that particular alterations might be made with advantage, we are more and more inclined to consider it as decidedly the most admirable of human compositions: and, we are persuaded, that it is only by a profound study of its tone and manner, that a collection of psalms and hymns, worthy to be incorporated with it, can possibly be made: for its characteristic excellence is that which writers of hymns have most rarely attained. It is at once so general, that it may be considered as the common voice of the whole congregation; so particular, that each may appropriate to himself its petitions and praises: its generality