Experienced every human pain, -wept o'er Lazarus dead, -and the crowning assurance of Jesus' human sympathy is expressed in the closing prayer, -when I have safely passed Thro' every conflict but the last, THE TUNE. Of the few suitable six-line long metre part songs, the charming Russian tone-poem of "St. Petersburg" by Dimitri Bortniansky is borrowed for the hymn in some collections, and with excellent effect. It accords well with the mood and tenor of the words, and deserves to stay with it as long as the hymn holds its place. Dimitri Bortniansky, called "The Russian Palestrina," was born in 1752 at Gloukoff, a village of the Ukraine. He studied music in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Vienna, Rome and Naples. Returning to his native land, he was made Director of Empress Catharine's church choir. He reformed and systematized Russian church music, and wrote original scores in the intervals of his teaching labors. His works are chiefly motets and concertos, which show his genius for rich harmony. Died 1825. "JUST AS I AM, WITHOUT ONE PLEA." Charlotte Elliott, of Brighton, Eng., would have been well-known through her admired and useful hymns, My God, my Father, while I stray, My God, is any hour so sweet, -and many others. But in "Just as I am" she made herself a voice in the soul of every hesitating penitent. The currency of the hymn has been too swift for its authorship and history to keep up with, but it is a blessed law of influence that good works out-run biographies. This master-piece of metrical gospel might be called Miss Elliott's spiritual-birth hymn, for a reply of Dr. Cæsar Malan of Geneva was its prompting cause. The young lady was a stranger to personal religion when, one day, the good man, while staying at her father's house, in his gentle way introduced the subject. She resented it, but afterwards, stricken in spirit by his words, came to him with apologies and an inquiry that confessed a new concern of mind. "You speak of coming to Jesus, but how? I'm not fit to come." "Come just as you are," said Dr. Malan. The hymn tells the result. Like all the other hymns bound up in her Invalid's Hymn-book, it was poured from out the heart of one who, as the phrase is, "never knew a well day," though she lived to see her eightysecond year. Illustrative of the way it appeals to the afflicted, a little ancedote was told by the eloquent John B. Gough of his accidental seat-mate in a city church service. A man of strange appearance was led by the kind usher or sexton to the pew he occupied. Mr. Gough eyed him with strong aversion. The man's face was mottled, his limbs and mouth twitched, and he mumbled singular sounds. When the congregation sang he attempted to sing, but made fearful work of it. During the organ interlude he leaned toward Mr. Gough and asked how the next verse began. It was Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind. "That's it," sobbed the strange man, "I'm blind-God help me!"-and the tears ran down his face—“and I'm wretched—and paralytic," and then he tried hard to sing the line with the rest. After that," said Mr. Gough, "the poor paralytic's singing was as sweet to me as a Beethoven symphony." Charlotte Elliott was born March 18, 1789, and died in Brighton, Sept. 22, 1871. She stands in the front rank of female hymn-writers. The tune of "Woodworth," by William B. Bradbury, has mostly superseded Mason's "Elliott," and is now the accepted music of this lyric of perfect faith and pious surrender. Just as I am,-Thy love unknown "MY HOPE IS BUILT ON NOTHING LESS." The Rev. Edward Mote was born in London, 1797. According to his own testimony his parents were not God-fearing people, and he "went to a school where no Bible was allowed;" but at the age of sixteen he received religious impressions from a sermon of John Hyatt in Tottenham Court Chapel, was converted two years later, studied for the ministry, and ultimately became a faithful preacher of the gospel. Settled as pastor of the Baptist Church in Horsham, Sussex, he remained there twenty-six years until his death, Nov. 13, 1874. The refrain of his hymn came to him one Sabbath when on his way to Holborn to exchange pulpits: On Christ the solid rock I stand, There were originally six stanzas, the first beginning: Nor earth, nor hell, my soul can move, I rest upon unchanging love. The refrain is a fine one, and really sums up the whole hymn, keeping constantly at the front the corner-stone of the poet's trust. My hope is built on nothing less On Christ the solid Rock, etc. Wm. B. Bradbury composed the tune (1863). It is usually named "The Solid Rock." "ABIDE WITH ME! FAST FALLS THE EVENTIDE." The Rev. Henry Francis Lyte, author of this melodious hymn-prayer, was born at Ednam, near Kelso, Scotland, June first, 1793. A scholar, graduated at Trinity College, Dublin; a poet and a musician, the hard-working curate was a man of frail physique, with a face of almost feminine beauty, and a spirit as pure and gentle as a little child's. The shadow of consumption was over him all his life. His memory is chiefly associated with the district church at Lower Brixham, Devonshire, where he became "perpetual curate" in 1823. He died at Nice, France, Nov. 20, 1847 On the evening of his last Sunday preaching and communion service he handed to one of his family the manuscript of his hymn, "Abide with me," and the music he had composed for it. It |