The Press. — London, England, 1855-09-01 00:00:00

SEPT. 1, 1855. be out of place in any of our collections, though they might be very advantageously used in households, many of them having the character of pious ballads—a species of com position which might easily become as popu lar in this country as it has long been in Germany. One of the hymns in this volume, composed by George Neutnarck, of Weimar, about two centuries ago, acquired almost in stant popularity. No one knew who wrote it, but a baker's boy at New Brandenburg learnt it, and was heard singing it over his work. The common people were charmed with it, and soon, we are told, " the whole town and neigh " bourhood flocked to him to hear this beautiful "new song " Leave God to order all thy ways, And hope in Him whate'er betide, Thou'lt find Him in the evil days Thy all•sutlicient strength and guide; Who trusts in God's unchanging love, Builds on the rock that nought can move. What can these anxious cares avail, These never•ceasing moans and sighs ? What can it help us to bewail Each painful moment as it flies ? Our cross and trials do but press The heavier for our bitterness. Only thy restless heart keep still, And wait in cheerful hope ; content To take whate'er His gracious will, His all•discerning love hath sent. Doubt not our inmost wants are known To Him who chose us for His own. Be knows when joyful hours are best, He sends them as He sees it meet ; When thou has borne the fiery test, And art made free from all deceit, He comes to thee all unaware, And makes thee own Hia loving care. Nor, in the heat of pain and strife, Think God hath cast thee off unheard, And that the man, whose prosperous life Thou enviest, is of Him preferr'd. Time passes and much change doth bring, And sets a bound to everything. All are alike before His face ; 'Tis easy to our God most High To make the rich man poor and base, To give the poor man wealth and joy. True wonders still by Him are wrought, Who aetteth up, and brings to nought. Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways, But do thine own part faithfully, Trust His rich promises of grace, So shall they be fulflll'd in thee; God never yet forsook at need The soul that trusted Him indeed. It is scarcely possible to exhaust the beauty of a simple composition of this kind. It is a creed in itself, and eminently calculated to form a habit of piety in the mind. We wish that by any process similar pieces could be made popular among the masses of our people. Their educational influence would be of in calculable value. Though these hymns have been specially selected from Bunsen's large colle.;tion, to ac cord with the different Sundays of the year, yet many of them have a historical character. The following is remarkable as having been often sung by Gustavus Adolphus with his army. It was composed by Altenburg, and bore the title, " A heart cheering song of com fort on the watchword of the Evangelical Army in the battle of Leipsic, September ith, 1631, God with us." This hymn was sung by the great Christian soldier immediately before the battle of Liitzen ; Fear not, 0 little Bock, the foe Who madly seeks your overthrow, Dread not his rage and power : What though your courage sometimes faints, His seeming triumph o'er God's saints Lasts but a little hour Be of good cheer; your cause belongs To Him who can avenge your wrongs, Leave it to 10m our Lord. Though hidden yet from all our eyes, He sees the Gideon who shall rise To save us, and His word. As true as God's own word is true, Not earth or hell with all their crew Against us shall prevail. A jest and byword are they grown ; God is with us, we are His own, Our victory cannot fail. Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer! Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare; Fight for us once again So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise A mighty chorus to Thy praise, World without end. Amen. Several of the hymns bear relation to the distress and persecution consequent on the THE PRESS. Thirty Years' War. In the latter half of the seventeenth century a new school of devo tional song was founded, of which the hymns of Johann Schaller, commonly called Angelus, afford admirable specimens. "'the pervading " idea of this school," it is said in the introduc tion, " is the longing of the soul for that inti " mate union with the Redeemer of the world, " which begins with the birth of Christ in the " heart, and is perfected after death." The hymns of this school resemble those of our Wesleyans in spirituality, but are of higher poetical merit. We give one example from Angelus, though the specimen is scarcely a favorable one : Nothing fair on earth I see }tut I straightway think on Thee; Thou art fairest in my eyes, Source in whom all beauty lies 1 When I see the reddening dawn And the golden sun of morn, Quickly turns this heart of mine To Thy glorious form divine. Oft I think upon Thy light When the grey morn breaks the night; Think, what glories lie in Theo, Light of all Eternity! When I see the moon arise 'Mid Heaven's thousand golden eyes, Then 1 think, more glorious far Is the Maker of you star. Or I think in spring's sweet hours, When the fields are gay with flowers, As their varied hues I see, What must their Creator be When along the brook I wander, Or beside the fountain ponder, Straight my thoughts take wing and mount Up to Thee, the purest Fount. Sweetly sings the nightingale, Sweet the riute's soft plaintive tale, Sweeter than their richest tone, Is the name of Mary's Son. Sweetly all the air is stirr'd When the Echo's call is heard; But no sounds my heart rejoice Like to my Beloved's voice. Come then, fairest Lord, appear, Come, let me behold Thee here, 1 would see Thee face to face, On thy proper light would gaze. Take away these veils that blind, Jesus, all my soul and mind ; Henceforth ever let my heart See Thee truly as Thou art I The hymns of Novalis belong to this school, and, iu our opinion, are of the highest order of beauty. We must be content with one ex ample:— Though all to Thee were faithless, I yet were true, my Head, To show that love is deathless, From earth not wholly fled. Here didst Thou live in sadness, And die in pain for me, Wherefore I give with gladness My heart and soul to Thee. I could weep night and morning That Thou bast died, and yet So few will heed Thy warning, So many Thee forget. 0 loving and true-hearted, How much for us didst Thon! Yet is Thy fame departed, And none regards it now. But still Thy love befriends us, Of every heart the guide ; Unfailing help it lends us, Though all had turn'd aside. Oh ! such love soon or later Must conquer, must be felt, Then at Thy feet the traitor n bitter tears shall melt. Lord, I have inly found Thee, Depart Thou not from me, But wrap Thy love around me, And keep me close to Thee. Once too my brethren, yonder Upgazing were Thou art, Shall learn Thy love with wonder, And sink upon Thy heart. In a very different style is the single hymn given here by De la Mothe Fouque, but it has an excellence of its own. It is adapted to Quinquagesima Sunday : And Jesus said ludo him, Receive thy sight; thy faith has saved thee. And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God.—From the Gospel. My Saviour, what Thou didst of old, When Thou west dwelling here, Thou doest yet for them, who bold In faith to Thee draw near. As Thou hadst pity un the blind, According to Thy Word, Thou sufferedst me Thy grace to find, Thy Light hest on me pour'd. 839 Mourning I sat beside the way, In sightless gloom apart, And sadness heavy on me lay, And longing guaw'd my heart ; I heard the music of the psalms Thy people sang to Thee, I felt the waving of their palms, And yet I could nut see. My pain grew more than I could bear, Too keen my grief became, Then I took heart in my despair To call upon Thy name ; "O Son of David, save and heal, As Thou so oft halt done I 0 dearest Jesus, let me feel My load of darkness gone." And ever weeping as I spoke With bitter prayers and sighs, My stony lean grew soft and broke, More earnest yet my cries. A sudden answer stilled my fear, For it was said to me, " Oh, pout blind wan, be of good cheer, Rejoice, He calleth thee." I felt, Lord, that Thou stoodest still, Groping Thy feet I sought, From olf me tell my old self will, A change came o'er my thought. Thou suidst, " What is it thou won't's% have r "Lord that I *night have sight; To see Thy countenance I crave :" " So be it, have thou Light." And words of Thine can never fail, My fears are past and o'er; My soul is glad with light, the veil Is on my heart no more. Thou blessest me, and forth I fare Free from my old disgrace, And follow on with joy whers'er Thy footsteps, Lord, 1 trace. The translation from the German is always easy and flowing, though sometimes the verse might be improved with a little more care. Altogether the volume is a pleasing one, com bining high poetic merit with true devotional fervour, and serving to illustrate the growth of religious feeling in the German mind. The Seven Lamp: of Architecture. By John Ruskin, M.A. Second Edition. London : Smith and Elder. THIS new edition of Mr. Ruskin's eloquent " Seven Lamps" contains an original preface on the leading principles of the work. The main point dwelt on by Mr. Ruskin is, that " the idea of an independent archi tectural" profeseion is a mere modern fallacy." Archi tecture, according to Mr. Ruskin, consists only in col. lections of sculpture and painting. "The architect who "is not a sculptor or a painter, is only a frame-maker "on a large scale." Developing this idea, with that wealth of language which the author possesses, he observes : The fact is that there are only two fine arts possible to the human race, sculpture and painting. What we call architecture is only the association of these in noble masses, or the placing them in fit places. All architecture other than this is, in fact, mere building; and, though it may sometimes be graceful, as in the groinings of an abbey roof —or sublime, as in the battlements of a border•tower— there is in sueh examples of it no more exertion of the powers of high art than in the gracefulness of a well• ordered chamber, or the nobleness of a well-built ship of war. This conception of the insignificance of architectural structure, apart from its adornments, is dwelt. on in several passages of the book, and torms its cardinal principle. An author has generally a right to adopt that style of nomenclature which is best adapted to convey his ideas with clearness; and if Idr.ltuskin, for his own works, chooses to call that man who designs any grand and elaborate edifice a builder, and to reserve the title of architect for him who decorates the walls, there can be no harm in his doing so, though for general purposes the change would lead to needless confusion. Between the builder of a ship or a carriage and the builder of a grand public edi fi ce there is this obvious distinction, that the two former are designed for use alone, while the latter is designed, not for use only, but to please the eye and adorn a city. Surely it cannot he said that a splendid edifice is less an or nament of t city than a statue, or that the general design, form, and proportions of such edifice are less important than the sculpture which enriches it. It is one object of such edifices to strike the eye from a distance. The general form alone can then be per ceived, while all the details are lost. Is the term builder, as generally understood, suf ficient to express the skill required to raise an har monious and magnificent structure? We think not. It is noteworthy that while in same parts of his volume Mr. Ruskin depreciates the value of that ability required for what he terms mere building, he is in other passage constrained to acknowledge its importance. At page 115, for example, he entirely