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says of him "that he seemed to have no sense of religion but as a political interest. He seldom went to prayers or to any exercise of devotion:" yet this was the man who calls the great and good Owen, "a viper swelled with venom," with many similar epithets.

The last work of Marvell's, published before his death, was "An Account of the Growth of Popery and Arbitrary Government in England," which was reprinted nine years afterwards in the State Trials. The contents of this book were so unpalatable at court (as the writer was well assured they would be) that an advertisement appeared in the Gazette, offering, what was in those days a very high reward to any one who would inform the government by whom this and other "seditious and scandalous libels," of the same character, were printed and published. There could have been little doubt in the public mind as to the author, but no one was found bold enough to prosecute him. Marvell calmly read the advertisement, and pleasantly alluded to it in a letter to a friend. This was in the month of June; the 27th of July found him in Hull, attending to the business of the town with his usual diligence and cheerfulness.

For some time his life had been menaced, and he was so beset with enemies as to be obliged to use the utmost caution, seldom appearing in public, and concealing the place of is residence. But the resentment of he court party, and particularly of the heir presumptive, James, Duke of York, tracked him from place to place, and although not courageous enough to bring him to trial, had passed sentence of death upon him; for he suddenly expired on the 16th of

August, with his strength and vigour unimpaired, under strong suspicion of having suffered from the effects of poison.

And now, in common justice to this faithful servant of religion and of his country, we must, on his behalf, correct a mistake that has been made so long, and accepted so universally, that at first sight we know our statement will be regarded with a dubious eye.

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There are three hymns of considerable merit-one of which ranks amongst the first in our language, -included in nearly every selection of hymns, that are commonly ascribed to the gifted editor of the Spectator," Joseph Addison, but which are undoubtedly the composition of Andrew Marvell. Our readers may be quite sure that, in attempting to make good our assertion, we have ample evidence to support it, for we have spared no pains or research to ascertain, as positively as the lapse of nearly two centuries will allow, who was the real author of those hymns. We are surprised to see that Sir Roundell Palmer, in his "Book of Praise," has fallen into the common error, although in so many instances he has diligently sought after the original MS. versions of the hymns inserted in his valuable collection. How the first compilers of hymn books made the mistake, is easily seen; but it is not so easy to exculpate them from the charge of carelessness and want of judgment.

The hymns to which we refer, are those which begin severally :

"The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care:
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye:
My noonday walks He will attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

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"The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue, ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim."

These hymns were first published in the sixth volume of the "Spectator," the Saturday papers of which are known to be the contributions of Addison. Concerning the first of these hymns Addison writes, "David has very beautifully represented steady reliance on Almighty God in the 23rd Psalm, which is a kind of Pastoral Hymn, and filled with those allusions which are usual in that kind of

writing. As the poetry is very exquisite, I shall present my readers with the following translation of it." To attribute the lines that follow this laudatory preface to the modest Addison, would be to accuse him of gross conceit. The other hymns are referred to in a similar manner, he adding that they had "not yet appeared in print." To proceed to more substantial evidence: Captain Thompson (whom we have already mentioned) was Marvell's first biographer, and with immense labour, and some considerable expense, he gathered together what was known to be in existence of Marvell's productions, and published the same in several ponderous quarto volumes. He read through nearly three hundred letters, which are addressed to Marvell's constituents, and which are still preserved in the Town Hall at Hull, besides private epistles; moreover, being well acquainted with Marvell's great nephew, he obtained

from him a manuscript volume of poems, bearing the date of 1676, two years before Marvell's death, and when Addison would be just four years old. It was supposed that he had begun to make a collection of his own works for publication, when his untimely death prevented the plan from being executed; but as his nephew says "this MS. serves to detect the theft and ignorance of some writers."*

How these hymns came into Mr. Addison's hands is not known: probably they were remitted by correspondents, or even by some of Marvell's own relatives. Captain Thompson says, "there is very little difference between the two copies, unless in the spelling and a grammatical error, which Mr. Addison may have altered for the better." In the MS. they follow a well authenticated ballad, written by Marvell, and presented with a gold box to the king, by the city,— the original ballad having more verses than that given in the State Poems. Moreover, and this is not the least proof of identity, the hymns afford internal evidence, and bear the stamp of Marvell's mind, one of them especially applies to his experiences in life. Each verse in "When all thy mercies" has come straight from the writer's heart, and Marvell, much more truthfully than Addison, could endorse the sentiments of each line.† The peculiar circumstances of our patriot's life, the sorrows and temptations that saddened and beset his

After the appearance of Captain Thompson's work, a warm controversy was carried on in the "Gentleman's Magazine," concerning these hymns, which ended in Marvell's favour.

†The original version contains thirteen

verses.

youth, the turbulence of the times. during which his mind was matured, the constant endangerment of his life, might well draw from him expressions of fervent gratitude, as he reviewed past mercies and deliverances.

The incidents of Addison's prosperous career afford no parallel; and the hymn as coming from his pen, is divested of half its interest and deep meaning. But we would not seem to cast any reflection on this highly-gifted writer, nor suppose for a moment that he wished to appropriate the property of another, or to mislead his readers. Addison needed no borrowed plumes, and was the first to appreciate and acknowledge merit in another.

His fame does not rest on these three hymns, which the mistakes and partiality of others lent him for awhile; and Andrew Marvell's other poems and hymns have already won for him such an undisputed place amongst the poets of our land, that these short pieces do not add one sprig to the laurel wreath that adorns his brow. Nevertheless justice should be done even in so small a matter; and if it be an honour to find appropriate language, wherein the people of the Lord may offer up praise and adoration, then let the honour be given where it is due; and let us be sometimes reminded of this conscientious defender of our civil and religious liberties. MARIE SIBREE,

WESTMINSTER ABBEY. By the Reb. Thomas Milner, M.A.

THE stately and solemn Abbeychurch of Westminster is a basilica, rendered cruciform in its general outline, remarkable structurally in the interior for the harmony of its proportions, the impressiveness of its lofty and long-drawn aisles, which never fail to excite enthusiastic admiration.

Milton might have had it present to his mind's eye when he wrote the memorable lines in "Il Penseroso," which so unmistakeably intimate his sympathy with gothic architecture, cathedral music, and those massive yet graceful forms of art which wear the heavy impress of a venerable antiquity. We know not that this was the case, neither can we affirm the contrary, being in fact quite ignorant of the occasion of the poem, with the date and place of its production. The reader will recollect

the reference it contains to the "highembowed roof," the "antic pillars," the "storied windows," the "pealing organ," and the "full-voiced quire," uttering notes

"In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness through mine

ear,

Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heaven before mine eyes."

Old St. Paul's doubtless answered to the descriptive touches in this finely-picturesque passage, as do a score of temples in the land, standing in the time of the poet, and still extant. Yet none more so than Westminster Abbey.

The grand pile has however another and a stronger hold upon the imagination and feelings than that which appeals to the senses in tall columns, high arches, and vaulted aisles, being

a kind of national mausoleum, where the mighty and illustrious in their day slumber beneath the pavement. In Milton's time the list included kings and queens, nobles and dames of high degree, mitred ecclesiastics and helmeted knights, some with sculptured effigies on their tombs; and not a few of them are quite as well forgotten as remembered. But the number has since been largely increased, by men who established for themselves a claim to gratitude or admiration, by their genius, eloquence, philanthropy, patriotism, and public services, though these are jostled by a common class, simply indebted to family influence for the distinction. During the present century the ground has been much more sparingly opened, chiefly to those whom the nation has thus delighted to honour; and funerals have become much less ostentatious, therefore more solemn and heartstirring. On these occasions the exquisitely beautiful music of Purcell is commonly given, the Abbey organist when only eighteen years of age, who reposes within its walls; and also the effective strains of Croft, who held the same post, shares the same resting place, and officiated for the last time at the Coronation of George II. The anthem closes the service, "His body is buried in peace, but his name liveth for evermore," now mournful, anon jubilant, one of Handel's finest conceptions, himself a slumberer at the spot.* Thus, in the ancient fane,

*One wretched circumstance casts a disgraceful gloom over the funeral records in the Abbey-the brutal treatment which the deceased heroes of the Commonwealth received at the restoration, so contrary to the maxim that, "English vengeance wars not with the dead." The body of Crom

statesmen, orators, heroes, jurists, musicians, philosophers, poets, artists, and historians, some of whom often jarred in life, meet together in reconciliation and peace, all outwardly sharing the same lot, all equally mute and still, the emblems of a common helplessness. Yet is it proper to pay respect to departed worth and greatness, though society soon accommodates itself to the loss of the worthiest and greatest of its members, a consideration calculated to "hide pride from man," and impress upon him the maxim, "walk humbly with thy God." The old man eloquent and the young man brave, the sage's counsel and the patriot's zeal, He may choose to employ to carry into effect the high purposes of His will. But when the period of service in this world is over in the case of the most influential, a mote vanishes from the stage of public events; a moth is crushed fluttering in the drama of terrestrial life; while in silent majesty, suffering no check, making no pause, the designs of Providence move on to an appointed consummation.

well was taken out of the vault of Henry VII's Chapel, dragged to Tyburn, and there ignominiously exposed. It marks well the distinction between a mean and a magnanimous nature, that Archbishop Usher was interred in state in the Abbey, not only by Cromwell's express desire, but at his private cost, though an enemy to himself. The remains of Blake, acknowledged by Clarendon to be the greatest warrior this country had ever produced, were likewise disinterred, and buried along with those of about twenty others in a pit dug in St. Margaret's churchyard. Many a brave man lies at Westminster, but it has not since been the last home of any first-class commander. Marlborough rests at Woodstock; Nelson and Wellington at St. Paul's.

Dean Stanley, in an exhaustive and fascinating volume, aspiring to the dignity of a national work, has recently told the story of Westminster Abbey, the scene of coronation pageants as well as of royal obsequies, the companion of the State through eight centuries in its momentous rcvolutions. Once since a Protestant ritual was established within its walls has that of Romanism returned to them, during the brief reign of Mary Tudor. Once also within its arca have the modes of worship, distinctive of Anglican Episcopalianism, been superseded by the simpler forms preferred by Puritan divines. This was in the later years of Charles I., and lasted through those of the Commonwealth and Protectorate. In place of the usual daily service, "a morning exercise was appointed to be conducted by seven ministers, chiefly of the Presbyterian order, namely:Stephen Marshall, chief chaplain of the parliamentary army; William Strong, a famous preacher; Dr. Stanton, called the walking concordance; John Bond, afterwards Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge; Philip Nye, an Independent, mentioned as the chief agent in bringing the Presbyterian Covenant across the border; Herle, the second Prolocutor of the Westminster Assembly; and Wittaire, of whom nothing is known. Of these, the first named probably drew the largest crowd. He was a somewhat vulgar man, a noisy declaimer too, who took politics into the pulpit with him. The Dean says nothing of the sermons or hearers, but we can supply a notice of both. On one occasion a

* See the next article for the history of an Independent Church in the Abbey.

young royalist lady of rank was present, Dorothy Osborn, afterwards Lady Temple, who quizzed the preacher, as she was very well able to do with effect. In charming letters addressed to her lover, still extant in private hands, she thus closes with characteristic vivacity one of her serious reflections :-" What think you, might I not preach with Mr. Marshall for a wager?' She then

goes on to state, "I was near laughing yesterday where I should not. Would you believe that I had the grace to go and hear a sermon upon a week day? It is true, and Mr. Marshall was the man that preached. He is so famed that I expected rare things from him, and seriously I listened to him at first with as much reverence and attention as if he had been St. Paul. And what do you think he told us? Why, that if there were no kings, no queens, no lords, no ladies, no gentlemen or gentlewomen in the world, it would be no loss at all to the Almighty. This he said over some forty times, which made me remember it, whether I would or not." The quick-witted lady remarks further upon the statement, as though it were a new discovery, one that required a man of some capacity to make, and also one that needed to be repeated so often for the benefit of weak understandings!

Some famous men occasionally occupied the pulpit, and preached on special occasions. Here Owen's published sermon on "God's work in founding Zion, and His People's Duty," was delivered on the opening of parliament, September 17th, 1656; also Howe's on "Man's Duty in Glorifying God," before Richard Cromwell's last parliament; and Bax

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