A LEGEND OF THE COUNCIL OF NICE.

FLING

LING wide thy gates, and deck thy walls, but not for fight or feast,
Old city! on the borders of the West world and the East.

Fling wide thy gates, and deck thy walls, there comes a post from far,-
Propontis whitens with their sails that bring nor trade nor war;
And all along thy silver lake, and through thy rich grass plain
Come hurrying posts, and weary men, in many a dusty train.
There is no voice of traffic in thy silent market-place,
Though every bearded merchant hath a strange light in his face;
No long thin files of camels bring their spicery and myrrh;

No traders come by Astrachan, laden with costly fur.

The famished beast may lash his sides, and gnash within his cage,

No captive, vainly combating, shall fall to glut his rage.

Yet open wide thy four great gates to the four winds of heaven;
They come from east, they come from west, by the same purpose driven ;
They come from north, they come from south,-the Cæsar has made tryst
To hold high council in thy walls of the great Church of Christ.

Then souls of men were shaken with emotions new and strange,
And creeds and thoughts were tossing in an agony of change.
The world, that had grown weary of its pleasures and its gains,
Felt a tide of youth and rapture rush through its wasted veins,
And life it never knew before was stirring to its core
The proud and puissant empire that was pagan Rome" no more.

The seed that was so small had grown a tree that flourished grand,
The leaven in the woman's cake had leavened all the land.
Where silver Jordan runneth from the Lake of Galilee,
A narrow kingdom lies between the mountains and the sea;
From its hill-sides red with vineyards, the gentle Syrian wind
Bore the only voice that answered to the sobbing of mankind.
To the cottage of the fisher, to the poor man's mean abode,
The "desire of the nations" came, th' Incarnate Son of God.
The sign that was a sign of shame to pagan and to Jew,
Had become an image glorious that all men flocked unto;
The martyr at the stake for this esteemed the world but loss,
The emperor victorious won his battles in the cross.
Watered by the blood of martyrs, fed by the saints' good prayers,
The Church's words were on all tongues, her hymns upon all airs.
But ever as the tide that rides triumphant to the strand,
Hath rotten things and noxious, that she casts upon the sand;
So in the tumult and the swell of that returning life,

Were heresy and unbelief, and words of shameful strife.
Men stood up by hearth and altar, who did not fear to fling,
Led on by false Arius, foul dishonour on their King.
And the Emperor indignant, returning from his wars,
Heard the clamour of their discord, the tumult of their jars :

That man of double nature, whom the worst side ever wins,

Whose soul was with his Saviour, while his heart was with his sins.
From Thrace to Lusitania, from Persia unto Gaul,
Nations trembled at his eagles, and answered to his call.
There was peace in all his provinces, from Oxus to the Rhine,
But a peace of men's opinions were more dear to Constantine.
The world he holds his vassals, sage and savage, slave and chief;
One Rome they have, one master, they shall have but one belief:
So he sends his seal imperial, and he bids the fathers come
To hold at Nice high council for the peace of Christendom.
From old Egyptian Thebes where broods the shadow of the Sphinx,
From far Euphrates' water where the red-eyed lion drinks,
Paphnutius came, and Paul, who braved the pagans' utmost ire,
They showed the sightless eyeball, and the right hand scathed with fire;
Spiridion from his pastoral home on Cyprus' sunny steep,

Potammon from where Pispir sees the Nile's young waters leap,

Who dwelt with great St. Anthony, and could the marvels tell

Wrought by the wondrous solitary in his lonely cell;

And Theodore of Tarsus, who had drunk the Attic wine;

Macarius from the vine-rough hills of fallen Palestine;

And from his Persian wastes, where roamed no form more rude than his,

Clad in his coat of camels' hair, St. James of Nisibis ;

Eustathius from his palace-home in Antioch the grand,

Marcellus of Ancyra, free of spirit, bold of hand;

Leontius, whom the faithful men of Cæsarea send,
And Nicholas the tender one, the little children's friend;
Cecilian dark, and Capiton from Sicily the fair;

Nicasius come from soft Provence, and Phodrius, were there;
Protogenes of Sardica, Eustorgius of Milan;

And, light of all the Western Church, the learned Cordovan,
Hosius, whom Pope Sylvester sent, an old man full of years,
To speak for him the voice of Rome, and sit among his peers:
And from his beauteous wave-washed home, time-honoured, high in place,
Came Alexander, leaning on the youthful Athanase;

Not yet with pastoral staff endued, nor yet with mitre crowned,
Truth's champion, eager for the strife, proudly he looked around,
Like a young knight who feels his sword upon the battle-ground.
That weapon of his eloquence, men said, who heard him speak,
Was tempered like the Roman blade, and polished like the Greek.

Nor wanted Arian prelates, all men of subtle speech,
And practised in discussion, clever and crafty each:
Paulinus from Phoenician Tyre, still in her ruins fair;
Aëtius came from Lydda, and Theodotus was there,
From famed Laodicea, one of the holy seven,

Whose love was cold in olden days, whose lamp was dull in heaven ;
Proud Gregory of Berytus, Theognis too of Nice,

And Menophantus from the town rich with the shrines of Greece;
Patrophilus from his hill-fort, with green palms shaded o'er,
And wild Narcissus hasting from Araxes' reedy shore;
Eusebius of the fawning tongue, who played the courtier's part,
And he alike in fame and name, and most alike in art,

The bitter twain who wrung with pain their noble mother's heart.

Beside them many a curious man of differing creed and state, Idlers who hung upon the skirt of that august debate. There were noble Christian laymen, heathen, and learned Jew; Restless minds in a restless age, craving for something new. The Stoic with his creed effete that long had ceased to bind; The son of Epicurus, that could charm no more mankind; The mystic of the East, the slave of Egypt's rites impure, Brought here their sneers and cavils, and the want they could not cure.

Now while the Emperor tarried, and ere the seats were set, Pagan and Christian, saint and sage, in many a strife they met. One was there, wise in argument and eloquent of tongue, Trained in the schoolman's rhetoric, polished and proud and young, He argued in the public place,-men listened at his will; With all an orator's wealth of words, with all a sophist's skill, He spake of Christ, and ribald wit pointed each golden shaft,While the good Christians trembled sore, and the light pagans laughed,

Like one who rides into the lists, and doth a host defy,

And no man picks the gauntlet up, and gives him back the lie.

Till pressed an old man from the crowd, and barred the scoffer's way,— A good confession he had made in Diocletian's day,

When truth was more than parts, and love won martyr robes in death,— Slow of sense, and slower of speech, but he was strong in faith.

The watchful pagans sneered again, the Christians paled with dread,— "Hearken, O philosopher, in the name of Christ!" he said;

"There is one God, Creator of all this visible frame,

Green earth and heaven, and things beyond we may not see nor name;
He made them by his Word Divine, and by his Spirit's might,
Called the black chaos into form, and gave the darkness light.
That Word Divine is God's own Son, who in his infinite love
Felt pity for our anguish in his glorious home above,
Looked on us lost, corrupted, and left his Father's side,
Took our nature of a woman, lived with us, for us died;
He shall come again in glory to judge the sons of men,-
This is the Christian's creed,—and thou must stand before Him then.
Use no more vain distinctions, no flowers of language weave,
But look on me, philosopher, and say, dost thou believe?"
Then as on some wild shore, a heap of drift-wood deftly piled,
Leaps into flame, touched by the match held by a little child,
A strange light shot into his eye, men saw his nostrils heave,
And, touched by love, and won by faith, he answered, "I believe."

Faded from old Nicea, gone is the pomp of that hour,

Never more emperor passing shakes her old Roman tower.

Never more primate and exarch meet in her narrow street,

Waked by the bells of the camel, waked by the Tartars' feet;

But the creed that she witnessed, but the true words that were told

In that basilica's chamber, where, in purple and gold,

Blazing with jewels, the Cæsar heard the learned and good,

Fight for the faith of the Christian, each in the place where he stood;
Bishop and priest, and the deacon consumed with holy ire,
Young Athanasius pouring out words like a torrent of fire,—
This shall never be changed. The faith of the Trinity lies,
Shrined for ever and ever, in those grand old words and wise;
A gem in a beautiful setting; still, at matin-time,
The service of Holy Communion rings the ancient chime;
Wherever in marvellous minster, or village churches small,
Men to the Man that is God out of their misery call,
Swelled by the rapture of choirs, or borne on the poor
Still the glorious Nicene confession unaltered is heard;
Most like the song that the angels are singing round the throne,
With their "Holy! holy! holy!" to the great Three in One.

man's word,

CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER.

METRICAL TUNE-BOOKS.

1. A Reprint of all the Tunes in Ravenscroft's Book of Psalms. With
Introductory Remarks. Edited by the Rev. W. H. HAVERGAL, M.A.
London: J. A. Novello. 1845.

2. Church Hymn Tunes, Ancient and Modern, for the Several Seasons of the
Christian Year. As formerly used in Margaret Chapel, St. Marylebone.
Selected, composed, and edited, by RICHARD REDHEAD. London:
J. Masters. 1853.

3. The Supplementary Tune-book; containing One hundred and One original
Psalm and Hymn Tunes never before published, comprising Thirty-five
different Metres. Composed and arranged for Four Voices by WILLIAM
JONES and THOMAS CAMP (late of Therfield, Herts). London: J. A.
Novello. 1858.

4. Old Church Psalmody: a Manual of good and useful Tunes, either Old or in Old Style. Selected, harmonized, and arranged, with Prefatory Remarks and Historical Notices, by the Rev. W. H. HAVERGAL, M.A. Fourth Edition. London: John Shepherd. 1860.

5. A Selection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes.

Edited and arranged by

E. H THORNE, Organist of Chichester Cathedral. Enlarged Edition.
London: John Morgan.

6. A Handbook of Congregational and Family Psalmody; containing One
hundred and Fifty-three Tunes and Fifty-one Chants. Edited for
CORNWALL SMALLEY, M.A., Incumbent of St. Matthew, Bayswater,
by W. C. FILBY. London: Charles H. Purday. 1861.

7. Hymns, Ancient and Modern, for use in the Services of the Church, with accompanying Tunes. Compiled and arranged under the musical editorship of WILLIAM HENRY MONK, Organist and Director of the Choir at King's College, London. Twenty-first Thousand. London: Novello & Co. 1861.

8. Chorals and Hymns, Ancient and Modern; chiefly from the German. Compiled by WILLIAM H. WALTER, Organist of Trinity Chapel, and of Columbia College, New York. New York: Protestant Episcopal Church Book Society. 1862.

9. The Chorale Book for England: a complete Hymn-book for Public and Private Worship, in accordance with the Services and Festivals of the Church of England. The Hymns from the "Lyra Germanica" and other sources, translated by CATHERINE WINKWORTH; the Tunes from the Sacred Music of the Lutheran, Latin, and other Churches, for four Voices, with Historical Notes, &c., &c., compiled and edited by WILLIAM STERNDALE BENNETT, Professor of Music in the University of Cambridge, and OTTO GOLDSCHMIDT. London: Longman, Green, & Co. 1863.