to A, but while it marches at the same pace it lacks the jubilant modulations and the choral glory of the 18th-century piece. SIR JOHN BOWRING. "In the Cross of Christ I Glory." In this hymn we see, sitting humbly at the feet of the great author of our religion, a man who impressed himself perhaps more than any other save Napoleon Bonaparte upon his own generation, and who was the wonder of Europe for his immense attainments and the versatility of his powers. Statesman, philanthropist, biographer, publicist, linguist, historian, financier, naturalist, poet, political economist-there is hardly a branch of knowledge or a field of research from which he did not enrich himself and others, or a human condition that he did not study and influence. Sir John Bowring was born in 1792. When a youth he was Jeremy Bentham's political pupil, but gained his first fame by his vast knowledge of European literature, becoming acquainted with no less than thirteen* continental languages and dialects. He served in consular appointments at seven different capitals, carried important reform measures in Parliament, was Minister Plenipotentiary to China and Governor of Hong Kong, and concluded a commercial treaty with Siam, where every previous commissioner had failed. But in *Exaggerated in some accounts to forty. all his crowded years the pen of this tireless and successful man was busy. Besides his political, economic and religious essays, which made him a member of nearly every learned society in Europe, his translations were countless, and poems and hymns of his own composing found their way to the public, among them the tender spiritual song, How sweetly flowed the Gospel sound --and the more famous hymn indicated at the head of this sketch. Knowledge of all religions only qualified him to worship the Crucified with both faith and reason. Though nominally a Unitarian, to him, as to Channing and Martineau and Edmund Sears, Christ was "all we know of God." Bowring died Nov. 23, 1872. But his hymn to the Cross will never die: In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; Gathers round its head sublime. When the woes of life o'ertake me Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, Lo! it glows with peace and joy. Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure Peace is there that knows no measure, THE TUNE. Ithamar Conkey's "Rathbun" fits the adoring words as if they had waited for it. Its air, swelling through diatonic fourth and third to the supreme syllable, bears on its waves the homage of the lines from bar to bar till the four voices come home to rest full and satisfied in the final chord Gathers round its head sublime. Ithamar Conkey, was born of Scotch ancestry, in Shutesbury, Mass., May 5th, 1815. He was a noted bass singer, and was for a long time connected with the choir of the Calvary church, New York City, and sang the oratorio solos. His tune of "Rathbun" was composed in 1847, and published in Greatorex's collection in 1851. He died in Elizabeth, N. J., April 30, 1867. CHAPTER III. HYMNS OF CHRISTIAN DEVOTION AND EXPERIENCE. "JESU DULCIS MEMORIA.” "Jesus the Very Thought of Thee." The original of this delightful hymn is one of the devout meditations of Bernard of Clairvaux, a Cistercian monk (1091-1153). He was born of a noble family in or near Dijon, Burgundy, and when only twenty-three years old established a monastery at Clairvaux, France, over which he presided as its first abbot. Educated in the University of Paris, and possessing great natural abilities, he soon made himself felt in both the religious and political affairs of Europe. For more than thirty years he was the personal power that directed belief, quieted turbulence, and arbitrated disputes, and kings and even popes sought his counsel. It was his eloquent preaching that inspired the second crusade. His fine poem of feeling, in fifty Latin stanzas, has been a source of pious song in several languages: Literally Jesu, dulcis memoria Jesus! a sweet memory Giving true joys to the heart, But sweet above honey and all things The five stanzas (of Caswall's free translation) now in use are familiar and dear to all Englishspeaking believers: Jesus, the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills my breast, Nor voice can sing nor heart can frame A sweeter sound than Thy blest name, O Saviour of mankind. The Rev. Edward Caswall was born in Hampshire, Eng., July 15, 1814, the son of a clergyman. He graduated with honors at Brazenose College, Oxford, and after ten years of service in the ministry of the Church of England joined Henry Newman's Oratory at Birmingham, was confirmed in the Church of Rome, and devoted the rest of his life to works of piety and charity. He died Jan. 2, 1878. THE TUNE. No single melody has attached itself to this hymn, the scope of selection being as large as the |