nger to the other six. We confine it in churches, or in the closet
at home, and never think of taking it with us to the street, or into our
business, or with us to the festival, or the gathering of friends. Dr.
Arnold used to complain that he could get religious subjects treated in a
masterly way, but could not get common subjects treated in a religious
spirit. The Germans have done better; they have melted down the Sunday
into the week. They have hymns embodying confessions of sin, hymns in
the near prospect of death: and they have--what is more
important--spiritual songs that may be sung by soldiers on the march, by
the artisan at the loom, by the peasant following his team, by the mother
among her children, and by the maiden sitting at her wheel listening for
the step of her lover. Religion is thus brought in to refine and hallow
the sweet necessities and emotions of life, to cheer its weariness, and
to exalt its sordidness. The German life revolves like the village
festival with the pastor in the midst--joy and laughter and merry games
do not fear the holy man, for he wears no unkindness in his eye, but his
presence checks everything boisterous or unseemly,--the rude word, the
petulant act,--and when it has run its course, he uplifts his hands and
leaves his benediction on his children.

The "Lyra Germanica" contains the utterances of pious German souls in all
conditions of life during many centuries. In it hymns are to be found
written not only by poor clergymen, and still poorer precentors, by
ribbon-manufacturers and shoemakers, who, amid rude environments, had a
touch of celestial melody in their hearts, but by noble ladies and
gentlemen, and crowned kings. The oldest in the collection is one
written by King Robert of France about the year 1000. It is beautifully
simple and pathetic. State is laid aside with the crown, pride with the
royal robe, and Lazarus at Dives' gate could not have written out of a
lowlier heart. The kingly brow may bear itself high enough before men,
the voice may be commanding and imperious enough, cutting through
contradiction as with a sword; but before the Highest all is humbleness
and bended knees. Other compositions there are, scattered through the
volume, by great personages, several by Louisa Henrietta, Electress of
Brandenburg, and Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick,--all written two
hundred years ago. These are genuine poems, full of faith and charity,
and calm trust in