itual
change which brought a new purpose into his life, he was baptized by Dr.
Rippon and studied for the ministry. At the age of about twenty-five, he
was settled over the Baptist church in Walworth, where he remained till
his death, April 16, 1796.

For more than a century his hymns have lived and been loved in all the
English-speaking world. Among those still in use are--

How sweet, how heavenly is the sight,

Pilgrims we are to Canaan bound,

O Thou in whose presence my soul takes delight.

"HAPPY DAY."

O happy day that fixed my choice.
--_Doddridge_.
O how happy are they who the Saviour obey.
--_Charles Wesley_.

These were voices as sure to be heard in converts' meetings as the
leader's prayer or text, the former sung inevitably to Rimbault's tune,
"Happy Day," and the latter to a "Western Melody" quite as closely akin
to Wesley's words.

Edward Francis Rimbault, born at Soho, Eng., June 13, 1816, was at
sixteen years of age organist at the Soho Swiss Church, and became a
skilled though not a prolific composer. He once received--and
declined--the offer of an appointment as professor of music in Harvard
College. Died of a lingering illness Sept, 26, 1876.

"COME, HOLY SPIRIT, HEAVENLY DOVE."
--_Watts_.

This was the immortal song-litany that fitted almost anywhere into every
service. The Presbyterians and Congregationalists sang it in Tansur's
"St. Martins," the Baptists in William Jones' "Stephens" and the
Methodists in Maxim's "Turner" (which had the most music), but the hymn
went about as well with one as with another.

The Rev. William Jones (1726-1800) an English rector, and Abraham Maxim
of Buckfield, Me., (1773-1829) contributed quite a liberal share of the
"continental" tunes popular in the latter part of the 18th century.
Maxim was eccentric, but the tradition that an unfortunate affair of the
heart once drove him into the woods to make away with himself, but a
bird on the roof of a logger's hut, making plaintive sounds,
interrupted him, and he sat down and wrote the tune "Hallowell," on a
strip of white birch bark, is more likely legendary. The following
words, said to have inspired his minor tune, are still set to it in the
old collections:

As on some lonely building's top
The sparrow makes her moan,
Far from the tents of joy and hope
I sit and