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

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 edifice 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