the appearance of Dr. Robinson’s _Laudes Domini_ in 1884, and is mainly an account of the hymns included in that work, and of their authors. When this was finished he returned to his _opus magnum_, in the expectation of having it soon ready for the press. From our conferences and correspondence I was led to hope for its early appearance. But this was not to be. A failure of the vessels of the heart, evidently from some constitutional weakness, as he had been making no special exertion when it showed itself, was the beginning of the end. Twelve weary months of illness, spent partly in Bloomfield and partly at a watering-place, to which he had gone for change of air, were followed by his death on May 12th, 1887. He died as he had lived, in the full assurance of the Gospel, and looking for life everlasting in Jesus Christ. The news of his death was received with grief by the whole community, especially by the young people, with whom he had so lively a sympathy. The Bloomfield Fire Company displayed their flag at half-mast, placed a guard of honor over his remains during the forty hours they lay at the church, and attended his funeral in a body. Signs of the general mourning were seen everywhere, and the town felt it had lost a public-spirited citizen, while his church had lost a faithful and devoted pastor. Mingled with memoranda for his book, I find in his note-books other indications of the breadth and energy of his work for the spiritual and intellectual improvement of his people, especially through his lectures before the Young People’s Society of the Westminster Church. In the city of the dead at Detroit, where his kindred lie buried, there stands a memorial stone, which bears the inscription: DILECTISSIMUS EHEU PRAEMISSUS EST QUANQUAM E VITAE INTEGRAE MEDIO RAPTUS AEVUM LONGISSIMUM PEREGIT BEATO ILLI PATER UXOR MULTIS CUM LACRIMIS HOC MARMOR DEDICAVERE Beside him lies now the mortal part of the much-loved father who wrote these words. Dr. George Duffield the younger died July 6, 1888. INTRODUCTION. The study of the Latin hymns is so much a thing of its own kind that one owes it to himself as well as to his readers to begin at the beginning. This beginning in the present instance happened to be on the North River, on a bright, fresh April morning in the year of grace 1882. It was at that time, with the clear sky overhead and the hearty breeze coming full in our faces from the Narrows, that my friend, the Rev. F. N. Zabriskie, D.D., broached the following proposition: