'O for a heart to praise my GOD,' 'JESU, Thy boundless Love to me,' 'FATHER, in the Name I pray,' 'O Love Divine, how sweet thou art,' 'Open, LORD, my inward ear,' 'GOD of my life, what just return,' 'JESU, Thou art my Righteousness.' For the death-bed of one prepared to die, his lines, 'Happy soul! thy days are ended,' seem more suitable than Toplady's 'Deathless principle, arise!' or Montgomery's Spirit! leave thine house of clay!' Of John Newton's hymns, 'How sweet the Name of JESUS sounds,' 'Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,' 'Why should I fear the darkest hour,' 'Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat,' and 'I hear the tempest's awful sound,' (the last specially appropriate for use at sea,) must be mentioned. But many more hymns of meditation are due to William Cowper. There is indeed a vein of melancholy pervading many of his hymns, which is only too well accounted for by the author's sad history. 'GOD moves in a mysterious way,' 'O LORD, my best desire fulfil,' and 'O for a closer walk with GOD,' all bear traces of having been written in the twilight of departing reason.' 'Hark, my soul! it is the LORD,' and 'Far from the world, O LORD, I flee,' breathe a happier spirit, as do also many of his translations from Madame Guyon, which are far too little known. 'Blest, who, far from all mankind,'' and 'Love is the LORD whom I obey,' are especially good, as are also 'Night! how I love thy silent shades,' and indeed all those on watching to God in the night-season. It may be interesting to compare a stanza of the original French with Cowper's translation:

'Tous sont obligés de T'aimer,

Je le suis d'avantage;

Cent fois Tu m'as sçu délivrer

D'un mortel esclavage:

Mon Petit-Maitre, mon Amour,

Que j'expire en Toi chaque jour!'

'All are indebted much to Thee,
But I far more than all;
From many a deadly snare set free,
And raised from many a fall:
Overwhelm me from above

Daily with Thy boundless Love.'

Many of Charlotte Elliott's poems are suitable for private devotion. Her best-known hymn, 'My GoD and FATHER, while I stray,' seems to have been originally intended for use in this way. 'O Holy SAVIOUR, Friend unseen,' 'Just as I am, without one plea,' and 'O Thou, the contrite sinner's Friend,' are also well adapted for meditation. In H. F. Lyte's sacred verses there are, besides many others equally worth mentioning, 'JESUS, I my cross have taken,' 'Long did I toil and knew no earthly rest,' and 'When at Thy footstool, LORD, I bend.' For meditation in times of trouble there are some lines by Dr. Thomas Gibbons, beginning

'This is not among Montgomery's published hymns, though probably adapted by himself (from a poem written in 1803) for Dr. Collyer's collection, 1812.

"From 'Heureux, qui, loin de tout le monde.'

3 L'Amour me tient asservie.

'To Thee, my GOD, Whose Presence fills
The earth, and seas, and skies,

To Thee, Whose Name, Whose heart is Love,
With all my powers I rise.'

Very much of the sacred poetry of Germany is suitable for private use. The subjective character found especially in many of the later hymns, adapts them to this end. C. J. P. Spitta's works are excellent for domestic edification, for which indeed they were primarily designed. Mr. Massie has translated the 'Psaltery and Harp' of Spitta successfully on the whole. 'O blessed Sun, Whose Splendour,' and 'My LORD and GOD, Whose gracious Hand,'' deserve especial mention. His rendering of the parting hymn,3 How mean ye thus by weeping,' though retaining the double rhymes of the original, is perhaps not equal to 'What mean ye by this wailing,' the version given in 'Hymns from the Land of Luther.' Spitta's poem on Patience is beautifully translated in 'Christian Lyrics,' by M. S. M., in the lines beginning

Throughout this earth in stillness

An angel walks abroad,
For consoling in our weakness,
He is strengthened of the LORD.'

Miss Winkworth's lines, beginning, 'O Father-Eye, that hath so truly watched,' are from Spitta. Among the older German hymns, some of the most suitable are taken from Angelus Silesius. Space forbids us here to give a hitherto unpublished version of his best-known bymn, kindly sent us by the Rev. T. L. Kingsbury, which Miss Cox has translated 'Love, Who in the first beginning,' and Miss Winkworth, 'O Love, Who formedst me to wear.'

Miss A. L. Waring's lines, beginning 'FATHER, I know that all my life,' are very beautiful, excelling even Miss A. A. Proctor's 'My God, I thank Thee, Who hast made.' In weariness of spirit, two hymns by F. W. Faber, 'O LORD, my heart is sick,' and 'I come to Thee once more, my GOD,' may be used. His lines beginning, 'Hark! hark! my soul! angelic songs are ringing,' have become very popular as a sacred song, under the title of the 'Pilgrims of the Night.' Bonar's 'Thy way, not mine, O LORD,' and 'Cease, my soul, thy strayings,' may well be thus used.

The plan of regularly introducing a hymn into daily private devotions is admirably carried out in Mr. A. G. Jackson's 'Penny Pocket-book of Prayers and Hymns.' Here we have the lines of Caswall, which are

'O JESU, meine Sonne.

* Was macht ihr, dass ihr weinet.

* Mein HERR und GOTT, Dess guter Hand. • Es zieht ein stiller Engel.

O Vaterhand, die mich so treu geführet.

6 Liebe, Die Du mich zum Bilde.

'We should, however, have been glad to see a hymn provided, more definitely

suitable for Sunday morning than any of those given.

perhaps the best preface to a meditation upon death that has ever been

written :

'Now let me close mine eyes,
And strive to picture to myself the day,
When, stretched in my last dying agonies,
I here no more may stay.

Ah! when will be the time

For thee, my soul, to wing thy solemn flight?
Shall it be winter's snow, or summer's prime ?
Shall it be day or night?

*

And will my death come slow,

Or sudden as the lightning's vivid blast?
Ah me! I cannot say, but this I know,
That come it must at last.

Oh then, since thus I live,

Certain of death, uncertain of the day;
This grace to me, immortal SAVIOUR, give,
In Thy dear Love, I pray;

That whatsoe'er befall
Of good or ill, I evermore may be

Ready, whenever sounds Thy solemn call,
At once to answer Thee.'

Two other pieces on the same subject, by the same author, 'Come, my soul, and let us dwell,' and 'Borne as an arrow from the bow,' are also good. Many of Caswall's meditative pieces deserve to be better known. His Hymn of Reparation to the Holy Sacrament, beginning 'O JESU, O Redeemer,' may be found useful. This idea is also well expressed in a hymn by the Rev. T. L. Kingsbury, hitherto unpublished:-

'And art Thou coming, LORD, once more

To fill this worthless heart of mine,

To break for me the Eternal Store,
And shed for me Thy deathless Wine?

What so can move Thee to forsake
Thy Throne above the boundless sky;
These lowly forms of earth to take,
Nor pass the meanest suppliant by?

Canst Thou forgive my sinful shame,
My long neglects, my stubborn pride?
And canst Thou from those Eyes of Flame
My vileness, my pollution hide?

Yet, JESUS! all my Peace and Joy!
If so Thou must to me incline,
Come, what Thou hatest to destroy,

And make me all and only Thine.'

The following lines of Archbishop Trench, with which we must now conclude, remind us forcibly of George Herbert's style of thought:

'When prayer delights thee least, then learn to say,
Soul, now is greatest need that thou shouldst pray.

Crooked and warped I am, and I would fain
Straighten myself by Thy right line again.

Oh come, warm sun, and ripen my late fruits;
Pierce, genial showers, down to my parched roots.

My well is bitter; cast therein the Tree,
That sweet henceforth its brackish waves may be.

Say what is prayer, when it is prayer indeed?
The mighty utterance of a mighty need.

The man is praying, who doth press with might
Out of his darkness into God's Own light.

White heat the iron in the furnace won;
Withdrawn from thence, 'tis cold and hard anon.

Flowers from their stalks divided, presently
Droop, fail, and wither in the gazer's eye.

The largest river, from its fountain-head
Cut off, leaves soon a parched and dusty bed.

All things that live from God their sustenance wait,
And sun and moon are beggars at His gate.

All skirts extended of thy mantle hold,

When angel-hands from Heaven are scattering gold.'

(To be continued.)

LOUIS COUTIER BIGGS, M. A.

SKETCHES OF THE CUSTOMS AND OFFICES OF THE GRECO-RUSSIAN CHURCH.

A BISHOP'S VISITATION.

Ar all times a trying and terrifying business, the expected visitation of the Bishop this year seemed to be peculiarly so to the minds of the clergy of high and low degree in our town and blagotchinie. This probably arose from the fact of His Eminence having been but very recently appointed to this diocese; and although report decided in his favour, yet there was no knowing how he might be worried or displeased at different places on the road between the government town and our place, and in what humour he might be pleased to arrive; for it is a fact, proved by many remarkable instances, that bishops have tempers as well as other people.

A Bishop always travels with a suite, consisting of an archimandrite, a protodeacon, subdeacons to robe and attend him during service, and assist at the same, and a youth called a sloujka, (which word I really cannot translate otherwise than Slavey, it being the diminutive of Slougà, a servant.) His work is by no means hard, and consists principally in standing and looking very pretty a little behind the Bishop at his left hand, with a book in his own, which he opens when required at the proper place, and stepping forward, holds it before His Eminence to read from. A good-looking lad seems to be selected, for I never yet saw an ugly sloujka; and a certain grave, respectful, but withal coquettish and becoming manner is common to them all, and probably is in a certain degree acquired. A choir of some twelve or sixteen strong, with their Regent or leader, also accompanies the party, and forms one of the attractions at the Episcopal Liturgy, which is altogether very interesting, and much more showy than a mere ordinary Mass, as celebrated by a priest, can be.

The approach of the Bishop was duly announced to us by the ringing of bells, which I have before mentioned,* so that those who wished to see him arrive had time to dress and assemble in the church. The Protopope had gone to the nearest village in the march-route, a distance of thirty versts, to meet the Vladika,f and accompany him hither; but all the other priests (and among them one poor man dying of decline, whom we had not seen at church for many a day) and the rest of the clergy were ready in the Cathedral to receive him, and had only just time to hurry on their canonicals, when he arrived. It was five o'clock on a burning hot July afternoon, but fortunately the Cathedral is large and cool, and all the doors were opened; it was prettily decorated too, with boughs of birch and lime trees, arranged so as to form an alley in one part that he would have to pass; and the 'bit of green' was refreshing to the eyes, if not to the imagination of the other senses, and was suggestive of shade and gentle fannings of boughs.

The carriage, drawn by six horses, stopped at the west door, and His Eminence immediately ascended the steps, supported by two stanovoys; it was merely an act of civility on their part, however, for he is a brisk active man, and did not require any assistance whatever. He was dressed in a rich violet and black silk damask cassock, and on his head was a high round hat, (the monkish hood) with a long veil of black stuff something like barège, hanging over it down his back. Round his neck, suspended by a chain, is the Panagia, sparkling in the sun; of it I will speak presently.

At about five or six steps from the door, within the Cathedral, he was met by the clergy; and here he was robed in his episcopal mantle, an immense garment of puce-coloured satin, on which are sewn three double rows of a striped red and white ribbon, about four inches broad; at * See The Monthly Packet, Vol. xxvii. p. 603.

+ The Bishop.