spirit of evangelic meekness, it cannot be denied that sometimes they were uttered with the unapostolic and less charitable vehemence of the Old Testament. This was an error, but a natural one. It could not be expected-when the Scriptures suddenly broke again upon the world with a dazzling splendour, and when the feelings in all quarters were in the highest state of excitementthat a sober and scholar-like discrimination between those parts of the Bible, which are superseded by the gospel, and those which are perpetual, should immediately be made. We wish that, in times where the error is far less excusable, the scriptures were studied more as a whole, not as a collection of detached sentences, to be applied singly, as authoritative axioms, to the whole course of moral and religious conduct. But, however occasionally abused, the importance of thus wresting the influence of sacred music out of the power of the adversary was incalculable. Among the Germans, then, as now, the power of music was signally effective; and Luther, as we have before observed, was well able to direct its influence. In France, even the court was surprised at hearing the gay and dissolute chansons forcibly ejected from their favourite tunes; and voices, not accustomed to such service, dwelling with the utmost fervour on the rude psalms of Clement Marot. In England, the church, with its accustomed moderation, was content at first with remedying the more immediate evil, only commanding that the psalms, with the rest of the liturgy, should be said or sung' in the vernacular tongue. The intention, we conceive, was, that in the cathedrals, or wherever there might be a choir, the old music should be retained; but the parish churches were to return, as near as possible, to the practice of the primitive church, in which, as we showed above, one verse was read without, or with scarcely any, inflexion of voice, and the second repeated in the same manner, by the whole congregation. They judged wisely; for to have proscribed the cathedral music would, in the first instance, have alienated many minds which were inclined to acquiesce in the change; and that man must take a very narrow and bigoted view of the various means by which the minds of men, as they are differently constituted, may be incited to religious devotion, who should reject the influence of our cathedral service when chaunted with fervour and solemnity. Let us bring the sternest of our northern brethren, who ever denounced the papistical'kist fu' o' whistles,' and place him within the choir of York, or in King's College Chapel, and if he be not entirely of Cassius's vein, we do not doubt that we should find him surprised into involuntary devotion; and even, perhaps, bowing the knee to Baal. There is something in that wonderful instrument itself which the puritan spirit would rashly have assigned over to the enemy, the fulness of sound, without the visible appearance of human agency, which appears singularly adapted to devotional purposes; • When beneath the nave, High arching, the cathedral organ 'gins Within retired the bashful sweetness dwells; With the uncontroll'd exuberance of sound.' We know little of the human heart, we know little of our own, if multitudes have not felt the purest devotion heightened by those sounds accompanying one of our simple scriptural anthems; if many, who never were disposed to devotion before, have not derived incalculable advantage from feelings thus kindled for the first time.* Let us not, however, be mistaken. For general parochial purposes the psalmody must be so regulated that the whole body of the people may join, if they will, in the song of thanksgiving. In many places, of course, an organ is unattainable, and where there is one it ought to be so played as to permit the most uninstructed in music to accompany it. Unhappily, however, (we write after a painful comparison of our metrical versions,) the free, eloquent, and poetical language of our authorised version of the psalms must submit to the uncongenial fetters of rhyme and metre. But Milton's lines are well known, too well, to quote-but there is something in the following stanzas of Herbert, notwithstanding their quaintness and want of ease, sweetly expressive of his own feelings and those of many others, not merely in his humble and holy generation, but in later and more unpoetical days. It was the great worldly enjoyment of this good man to walk over to Salisbury to hear the cathedral service: CHURCH MUSIC. Sweetest of sweets, I thank you, when displeasure Did through my body wound my mind, You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure Now I in you without a body move, Rising and falling with your wings; We both together sweetly live and love, Yet say sometimes God help poor Kings.' But if I travel in your company Hebrew Hebrew poetry seems as impatient of bondage as the Jews themselves, and every successive attempt has ended in almost universal failure. And who are those who have laboured in this good cause? No less names than Sir Philip Sydney, Bacon, Milton, Addison, and we may add, perhaps, Mason and Cowper. But the history of our versions of the psalms deserves a more detailed examination. It is well known that as soon as a metrical version existed, it was admitted, either by legal authority or by tacit consent, into the Church of England; that version was the well-known composition of Sternhold and Hopkins.* It is astonishing how pertinaciously many excellent men adhere to these venerable worthies because they are considered to have the sanction of authority. We hear perpetually of their occasional beauties, but we never yet could get one of their advocates beyond the memorable stanzas : The Lord descended from above And bowed the heavens high! On cherubs and on cherubims And on the wings of mighty winds Even here the fastidious critic may complain of the lameness in the second line, and inquire why the version, which claims, exclusively, the merit of faithfulness, has drawn that singular distinction between cherubs and cherubims. We are persuaded that if a selection be made which shall meet with general acceptance in the present day, very few stanzas of this old version will retain their place. The next version of the Book of Psalms was by Archbishop Parker; a rare book, which we have never seen; had it been a good one, it would hardly have been rare. The specimens which we have seen, and the fact that, though composed by a man of the archbishop's rank and character, it did not enter into competition with Sternhold and Hopkins, appear conclusive as to its want of merit. An extremely elegant volume, containing a version of the * We decline the question, which was agitated a few years ago, as to the comparative legal authority for using the different versions. To enforce the monopoly of Sternhold and Hopkins appears to us a measure far too unwise and impracticable to be attempted by many of the enlightened prelates on the bench; we might as well insist that all our Bibles should be printed in black letter. We may observe, moreover, that if we are to adhere to Sternhold and Hopkins, it will be expedient to decide to which edition, for no two agrée. Psalms Psalms by Sir Philip Sidney, and his accomplished sister the Countess of Pembroke, issued a short time since from the Chiswick press. The life of Sir Philip Sidney is finer poetry than his writings; and we do not think that he was ever so highly inspired in verse as in his Defence of Poesy. As lovers of our early poetry we are thankful for the publication, though for our present purpose it is almost entirely useless. It has some of the beauties, but more than its share of the faults, of its age and writer. The rhythm of some lines, even of some stanzas, flows with that sort of intuitive music, which the thoughts of lofty and accomplished minds seem to command; but in general the metres are far too irregular and capricious to accord with the simple airs of our church service; and though the golden grains of rich and imaginative expression will amply repay the admirer of this school of English poetry, he will have to collect them from the dross of innumerable quaintnesses, false conceits and antitheses, and meannesses of language. As the volume is little known, we subjoin the 93d psalm, which appears to us, craving indulgence for two low rather than antiquated words, rendered with great life and energy: Psalm xciii. -Dominus regnavit. Cloth'd with state, and girt with might One, the same, in changeless plight. Rivers, yea, though rivers rore, Now and still as heretofore, Holy worshipp never dies In thy house where we adore. Lord Bacon's attempts at versifying a few of the psalms make us rejoice rather than regret that he proceeded no further. English poetry would have gained little, but what might not English philosophy have lost, if he had consumed much of his life on this uncongenial occupation! It is curious to see how the philosopher intrudes into the department of the poet in these lines, which, perhaps, are worth quoting for no other reason:— But But who can blaze thy beauties, Lord, aright, Had Bacon succeeded, where so many practised versifiers have failed, we might indeed have wondered; but that Milton should fall so far, not merely below himself, but below many of the humblest names in our poetic ranks, excites not more regret than astonishment. Milton, whose devotional feelings were so deep and fervent; whose intimacy with the original Hebrew is unquestionable; whose lyric poems, the songs in Comus, the Allegro and Penseroso, flow with such easy and exquisite harmony, that Handel himself could scarcely add music to those passages to which he adapted his accompaniments; Milton might seem to have united every qualification for a translator of the Psalms. His most ardent admirers have not appealed against the general verdict which has been recorded against him in this character; and, however we might select here and there a stanza of a higher order, and a few of his own inimitable beauties of language, we are not in the least inclined to disturb the judgment. George Sandys is usually considered the most poetic translator of the psalms, and to this opinion we subscribe-with some limitation. He excels in one kind of measure alone, and that the most simple; his animation and lyric fire forsake him entirely when he attempts a more intricate stanza. In the formation of the stanza itself, he is rarely fortunate; short lines halt after long ones, and Alexandrines trail after lines of four syllables, according to the capricious fashion of his day, without any apparent principle of rhythm or harmony. But in his eight syllable, or rather his seven syllable couplet, he surpasses all his rivals in life, energy, and richness. We subjoin the 148th psalm. You who dwell above the skies, You whom highest heaven imbowres Made |