of air as of exercise.

In all weathers he found oppor

tunity for the latter; and in the depth of winter he might be occasionally seen chopping timber at the bottom of his own garden, with an old episcopal apron onnot to indicate his rank, but to protect his breeches.

Addison's Vellum laughs at inopportune moments, and does not lessen his offence by saying, "Pardon me if I am jocular." A wise man's gaiety requires no apology, because it is not ill-timed. He does not strike the lyre when a city is burning, nor jest in presence of a blockhead. That grave man, and great man, the Rev. Dr. Clarke, was once in the fullest and loudest indulgence of hilarity with some congenial friends, when he saw Beau Nash approaching. "Boys," he said, in a subdued tone, "let us be gruve: here comes a fool!" It is not that nothing is to be learned from a fool. Mendoza, the pugilist, was only a boxer; but Dean Milner (as before noticed) once conversed with him in the passage-boat as it crossed from Hull to Barton. To a lady who, in common with some other persons, expressed surprise at his conversing with a prize-fighter, the dean replied, " Madam, Mendoza is at the head of his profession, and I wanted to get something out of him." And the dean got enough to serve his purpose in certain hours of relaxation; for he took to sparring, by way of exercise, in private, and once punished an impertinent young lord who had boasted of his practical knowledge of pugilism, by having a bout with him in the gloves, and punching

his lordship's head "consumedly." Milner took to sparring as Archbishop Whately took to cutting down trees and gardening, in one of his cast-off episcopal aprons. In each case this was for health's sake. The true relaxation of both was in conversation, if that may be called so when each man was best pleased when all the rest of the company were listeners. Milner's mother pleasantly reminded her son of this characteristic, after he had remarked at an evening party at his brother Joseph's house, that he could scarcely conceive a higher gratification than to have sat in the society of St. Paul, and heard him converse. "Ay, bairn!" exclaimed Milner's mother, in her broad Yorkshire dialect, "but thee would'st not ha' let him ha'e all t' talk to hissel'; thee would'st ha' put in thy word, I'll warrant thee."

In another respect, Milner was still more eccentric. It is said of him, in the "Reminiscences of an LL.B." -not indeed a creditable or trustworthy book-that this muscular Christian of twenty stone weight loved to refresh himself by a shower-bath; but the one which he used when he could get it was of a very primitive and stupendous character. "When on a summer's day," says the LL.B., " the rain descended in torrents, divesting himself of the robes which ' blissful Eden knew not,' and in a state of perfect nudity, in the privacy of his garden, he enjoyed the pelting storm, frisking like a hippopotamus in the refreshing coolness of the element. It is true that the

height of the walls and the density of the shrubs which surrounded his retreat secured him from the remarks which such a display to vulgar eyes might have produced; but from the roofs of some of the buildings adjacent a view might be obtained of the proceedings, which fact he had unluckily overlooked.”

I have alluded to St. John of Beverley's horseracing, and I will conclude by showing that that eminent Archbishop of York was was not the only northern primate whose heart was tender towards that sport. One of his successors, the Archbishop Venables Vernon (1807-47), also took great interest in racing. Although he would not be seen on a course, he sometimes, when opportunity afforded, would look over a hedge at running horses, and thus have his enjoyment without giving offence. I remember a story being current in Yorkshire, which further illustrated his taste for sport, while it also exhibited his strong common sense. An over-zealous clergyman once privately complained to him of a professional brother who ran his mare at country races, though not in the reverend owner's name. The charge, made with intense seriousness, was listened to in the same grave spirit, and the mischief-maker thought he had succeeded in his object. "Runs his mare! does he?" said the prelate, solemnly. "Well, look here, sir! I don't mind backing her at half a crown, against you, if you'll give me the odds!" The accuser withdrew in disgust.

66

Chaplain to a Hunt.

73

Whoever founded the vicarage of Blyth, in Nottinghamshire, may have disliked racing, but he thought it natural that the vicar should love hunting. The vicar has the right of hunting through his own parish; but he does not now avail himself of it. The lord of Serlby takes the vicarial domain as part of his "country." The reverend vicar (Raine), the historian of his parish, which partly lies in Yorkshire, jocosely suggests that an amicable and equitable adjustment of our respective claims may easily be effected by his conferring upon me the office of chaplain to the Serlby Hunt." Why not? Chaplains, and churchmen generally, of old, not only hunted, but prayed before they went to cover. If one may say so without irreverence, we may fancy the Serlby Hunt emphasizing in their hymns, before mounting, such passages as-" Many dogs are come about me;""He keepeth all his bones;" "Thou suffered'st men to ride over our heads;" "I stick fast in the deep mire;" "Thou hast overthrown all his hedges;" and "He hath made fast the bars of thy gates," as they cantered to cover, proud of themselves and their steeds. What an opportunity for the hunt chaplain to order them to intone, "He hath no pleasure in the strength of an horse; neither delighteth he in any man's legs!"

This much for Sports and Pastimes. The sense of joyousness conveyed under those names leads us to an illustration of another joy, that which is to be found in the spiritual joy songs of the glad people of the Church.

THE JOY SONGS OF THE CHURCH.

F, as Sir John Hawkins tells us, in his "History

[F,

of Music," that in the primitive Church each of the congregation assembled sang "as his inclination led him, with hardly any other restriction than that what they sang should be to the praise of God," we may fancy how those persons who had musical ears and disliked Dutch concerts, rejoiced when St. Ambrose introduced the alternate method of singing. Under Hilary, and later, under Gregory the Great, the singing school at Rome furnished many tuneful clerks. Gregory, at all events, restored the ecclesiastical song to a better form. From very early times, there seems to have been a disposition to multiply the varieties of hymns and spiritual songs. As we have denominational collections now, so of old the heresiarchs compiled such works for their respective bodies of followers. Sir John Hawkins ascribes to one Hieronymus the merit of having framed (with papal sanction, asked for by the Emperor Theodosius) a new ritual, “into which he introduced the Epistles, Gospels, and the Psalms, with the Gloria Patri and Alleluiah; and