than the most famous charms of wizard or magician. And he who knows the way hymns flowed, knows where the blood of piety ran, and can trace its veins and arteries to the very heart.

"There are Crusaders' hymns, that rolled forth their truths upon the Oriental air, while a thousand horses' hoofs kept time below and ten thousand palm leaves whispered and kept time above. Other hymns fulfilling the promise of God, that His saints should mount up with wings as eagles, have borne up the sorrows, the desires, and the aspirations of the poor, the oppressed and the persecuted, of Huguenots, of Covenanters, and of Puritans, and winged them to the bosom of God.

"One hymn hath opened the morning in ten thousand families, and dear children, with sweet voices, have charmed the evening in a thousand places with the utterance of another. Nor do I know of any steps now left on earth by which one may so soon rise above trouble or weariness as the verses of a hymn and the notes of a tune. And if the angels that Jacob saw sang when they appeared, then I know that the ladder which he beheld was but the scale of divine music let down from heaven to earth."

It is the purpose of the author of the following pages to try, in a simple way, to tell some of his fellow Christians and fellow Churchmen the story of some of our well-known hymns, and of the men and women who wrote them. He confines himself to the hymns contained in the hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church, not because he believes that to be the only book of hymns worthy of his attention, or necessarily even the best book, but because it is the book which has received the sanction of the Church to which he himself, through strong conviction and long association, is most deeply attached, and its hymns are most largely familiar.

Let us begin with the hymns and the life story of a man who, for his day and time, has often been called the saintliest soul in England, concerning whom the poet Montgomery has well said, "Bishop Ken has laid the Church of Christ under abiding obligations by his three hymns, Morning, Evening and Midnight. Had he endowed three hospitals he might have been less a benefactor to humanity."

Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily course of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and early rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Direct, control, suggest this day,
All I design, or do, or say,

That all my powers, with all their might,
In thy sole glory may unite.

How many millions of men and women have sung words, and have been spiritually strengthened thereby! And so with these other words, even more familiar:

All praise to Thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, oh, keep me, King of Kings,
Beneath Thine own Almighty wings.

Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son,
The ills that I this day have done,
That with the world, myself, and Thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

those

And then, too, that wonderful doxology which follows, dear to many generations of the faithful:

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below:

Praise Him above, angelic host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

I had rather have written those words than anything else ever written by man, composed only of four brief lines. They seem fitting words to be sung by the myriad hosts of the redeemed, when in the great day of final reward they shall stand before the throne with palms in their hands and boundless rejoicing in their souls.

THOMAS KEN, their author, was born in Hertfordshire in the year 1637. His mother died when he was four years old, his father in his boyhood. Fortunately, his elder sister had married, before his father's death, the famous Izaak Walton, a Christian gentleman of rarely exalted spirit, who stamped him

with his own love of nature and retirement, and whose companionship was of the largest value. At the age of thirteen he was sent to "the ancient and famous school of Winchester," founded by William of Wykeham. From thence he passed on to Oxford for his university training. Those were troublous times. The strong hand of Puritanism had been laid upon the churches. Their choristers had ceased to sing; their organs made mute appeal to heaven. Nevertheless, Ken was true to the teachings of those devout Churchmen by whom, in early life, he had been surrounded.

His first parochial charge, after his ordination, was in little Easton in Essex; from thence, after two years, he passed back to Winchester as a chaplain to Bishop Morley, where, for fourteen years, he lived the life of a useful and holy man. Enlargement came to him through a year of foreign travel. Then came a year at the Hague as chaplain to the Princess Mary, a year during which the staunchest fidelity and courage were required. By this fidelity he incurred the displeasure of the Prince of Orange; but what mattered that? He was looking for the approval of the King of kings. Returning to England, he soon became chaplain to the King. One of his noted experiences in this position is very characteristic. A country palace was being erected for Charles near Winchester. The royal visits brought with them crowds of courtiers. I give the story in the words of Dean Plumptre, the best of Ken's biographers:

"The King could not separate himself from the two mistresses who were then highest in his favor-the Duchess of Portsmouth and Nell Gwyn-and they had to be provided for. The official known as the 'harbinger,' to whose function it belonged to assign lodgings for the several members of the court, fixed on Ken's prebendal house for the last-named personage. It was probably assumed that one who had been recently appointed as a court chaplain would be subservient after the manner of his kind. With Ken, as we might expect, it was quite otherwise. He met the message with an indignant refusal. 'A woman of ill-repute ought not to be endured in the house of a clergyman, least of all in that of the King's chaplain. Not for his kingdom' would he comply with the King's demands. A

local tradition relates that he took a practical way of settling the matter by putting his house into the builder's hands for repairs and having it unroofed. Mrs. Eleanor Gwyn was, however, at last provided for. The Dean was found more compliant than the Prebendary. A room was built for her at the south end of the Deanery, and was known familiarly by her name till it was destroyed by Dean Rennell, perhaps as perpetuating an unsavory association, about 1835."

Dean Plumptre continues: "In the common calculations as to court favor, Ken risked his chance of future promotion by this act of boldness. As it was he rose in Charles' esteem. The King had not yet lost, in the midst of all his profligacy, the power of recognizing goodness. The bold faithfulness of Ken as a preacher at Whitehall had led the King to say, in words which were remembered afterwards, as he was on his way to the royal closet, 'I must go and hear little Ken tell me of my faults.' The courage which the Chaplain now showed led the way, contrary to the expectations of all courtiers, to a fresh step onwards to the 'great things' which Ken did not seek, but which were to be thrust upon him."

"Who shall have Bath and Wells," said King Charles, entirely of his own motion, "but the little black fellow who would not give poor Nelly a lodging?"

And so, at the age of forty-eight, he was consecrated a bishop in the Church of God. His own words express his

Lived, pleased with my low cottage on the plain,
Till up, like Amos, on a sudden caught,

I to the pastoral chair was trembling brought.

Eight days after his consecration he was summoned, with other bishops, to the death-bed of his sovereign. His spiritual pre-eminence was recognized, so that he was called to take the lead in sacred ministrations. "Ken," says Burnet, "applied himself much to the awaking of the King's conscience. spoke with a great elevation, both of thought and expression, like a man inspired, as those who were present told me.

He

He

resumed the matter often, and pronounced many short ejaculations and prayers." The wrongs done to the Queen were so effectively stated that the King begged her forgiveness, as he said, "with all his heart."

Surely, here was a man of God, ministering not with eyeservice as a man-pleaser, but as a servant of the Great Ruler above!

Monmouth's invasion followed-his defeat and sentence of death. Ken was with him in his last hours, faithful to him as to his King.

Then came years of busy diocesan labor, and of continuing Christlike charity. But sterner duties were at hand. The sympathy of King James with the Church of Rome became strongly manifested. A first "indulgence" was declared, and then a second. Possibly quiet might have been maintained, had there not gone forth an order that this second declaration should be publicly read in the churches. Certain bishops then met to determine the course they should pursue. A petition being drawn up, Ken with a few others took it to the King, who declared it to be the lifting of the standard of rebellion. have two duties to perform," answered Ken: "our duty to God and our duty to your Majesty. We honor you, but we fear God." "You are trumpeters of sedition," was the King's reply. "What do you here? Go to your dioceses, and see that I am obeyed." "God's will be done," said Ken; and White, of Peterborough, echoed his words.

"We

The seven bishops were imprisoned in the Tower, and after a manner tried; but the voice of the people was roaring so loudly that soon a verdict of acquittal came.

Then followed the landing of William and the flight of James. In Parliament Ken voted against conferring the crown on William and Mary; but the Protestant sentiment of the country had been so thoroughly stirred that a regency was voted down, and William was declared to be King.

Not unnaturally Ken's conscience was troubled. He would have welcomed William and Mary readily enough for a temporary cleansing of the land, and for much needed works of righteousness, but he could not take the oath of allegiance when a previous oath to James stood immediately confronting him.