Historians of the Reformation do not agree as to the occasion that produced Ein feste Burg. Leonard Woolsey Bacon, in his Hymns of Luther, published in 1883, in commemoration of the four hundredth anniversary of the reformer's birth-day, says the hymn first appeared in 1529, probably for the Diet of Spires, at which time the German princes "made their formal Protest against the revocation of their liberties, and thus gained the name of Protestants."

William T. Stead says Ein feste Burg was "the spiritual and national tonic of Germany, and was administered in those "dolorous times as doctors would administer quinine to sojourners in feverhaunted marshes." Everybody sang it, children on the streets, men and women in the fields, great congregations in Churches, and soldiers in battle. It was an inspiration to Luther himself in times of unusual peril. When darkness came over the Reformation which seemed to forebode the loss of all that had been gained, he would turn to his companion, Melancthon, and say, "Come, Philip, let us sing the Forty-sixth Psalm," meaning Ein feste Burg, his own characteristic version. "Only the idea of the Stronghold is taken from the Scripture, the rest is Luther's own, made in Germany, and not only so, but one of the most potent influences that have contributed to the making of Germany."

The influences of the hymn did not pass away

with Luther. It has never failed to be "a potent spell over German hearts." When Melancthon and his co-workers, Jonas and Crueiger, were banished from Wittenberg in 1547, the year after Luther's death, they took refuge in Weimar, and on entering the city their hearts were gladdened and their courage strengthened by hearing a little girl singing in a sweet voice on the street, Ein feste Burg. Almost a century later, when Gustavus Adolphus, in that awful battle near Leipsic, stood between the Reformation and its loss, he called upon his army before the struggle began, to take up this song and sing it in the face of the enemy. It was sung in the face of the enemy, and in the triumph of the battle it was sung again.

On the gray, misty morning in November, 1632, Adolphus and Wallenstein, both hitherto unconquered, met with their great armies on the plain of Lutzen. On that bloody field which Adolphus was to water with his own life, he ordered his trumpeters to blow Ein feste Burg. In the supreme moment of that conflict he fell covered with mortal wounds. The battle was hot and bloody, and went on for hours, but before the close of day, the army that made the Forty-sixth Psalm its battle-cry, saw the dead King "victor of the field on which with his life he had purchased the religious liberties of Northern Europe."

On this same battle-field of Lutzen, thousands assembled on the fifteenth of September, 1882, to

commemorate the jubilee of Gustavus Adolphus Society, and Ein feste Burg was sung by the vast concourse. Everybody knew the words and music by heart. German lungs are strong; German purpose is vigorous. "With the roll of a mighty stream the compact and lusty unison filled the air, and moved the hearts of the great gatherings with its rugged, homely strength."

In Cassell's History of the Franco-Prussian War is an account of the singing of Rinkart's Now Thank we all Our God, and Ein feste Burg, on the night following the battle of Sedan. The German army was on the march for Paris, and at night a portion of the troops were lodged in the parish Church of Augecourt. The men were overcome by excitement, and were literally worn out by the strain of the terrible battle and the heaviness of the march, and sleep seemed impossible. Finally, unknown fingers touched the organ, softly at first, then with greater force came the familiar tune to Now Thank we all Our God, and every voice joined in the grand old hymn. Then the organist began Ein feste Burg, the singing of which had nerved the soldiers to such deeds of courage at Sedan; and the officers and men united their voices in a magnificent outburst of song. The effect was remarkable. dreadful casualties of battle and the fatigue of hard marching were forgotten, and with hearts full of gratitude the men spent the remainder of the night in peaceful slumber.

The

The touching confidence with which Luther asked in his letter to Spalatin for poets, showed that he possessed the spirit of prophecy. Hymns came to him from all parts of the German Nation. And since that time German hymns have multiplied to a degree unparalleled in the history of sacred song. Dr. Philip Schaff says: "To the rich treasury of German hymns, men and women of all ranks and conditions, from theologians and princes down to common laborers, have made contributions, laying them on the altar of devotion, until the number of German hymns has exceeded one hundred thousand. Of this number about ten thousand have been published in various hymnals, and at least one thousand are classical and immortal."

VI.

The Great Doxology

N all the range of human compositions there cannot be found a nobler ascription

of praise than the four lines which form Bishop Ken's Doxology:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

No product of the heart and brain of man has echoed around the globe so often as this simple stanza; and no other lines, whether poetry or prose-excepting only the prayer which Jesus taught His disciples -are so frequently used by English-speaking Christians.

Thomas Ken was one of the most illustrious Bishops England ever produced. He was born at Little Berkhampstead, in 1637. His mother having died during his childhood, he was placed under the guardianship of his brother-in-law, the devout Izaak Walton, distinguished in history as the most eminent angler of his time. Ken was educated at Westminster, and at New College, Oxford. In 1679, when Princess Mary, wife of William of Orange of Holland, and daughter of James, the King's brother, asked for an English Chaplain at the Hague, Ken