Robert Herrick (1591-1674), the singer of rather worldly songs, but a literary artist withal, in his “Litany to the Holy Spirit” reaches more nearly up to the ideal of the singing hymn: “In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.” But when in the second stanza he descends to a description of a feverish sleepless night, “When I lie within my bed Sick in heart and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me,” a doubt of its congruity on the lips of a crowd of worshipers begins to rise. But when in the fourth and fifth verses one is asked to sing, “When the artless doctor sees No one hope but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When his potion and his pill, His or none or little skill, Meet for nothing but to kill, Sweet Spirit, comfort me,” one understands why, despite some fine lines, hymnal editors hesitate to use it. Richard Baxter (1615-1691), chiefly remembered by his _Saints’ Everlasting Rest_ and _Call to the Unconverted_ and a mass of other most useful writings, prepared a metrical psalter which found little response; he also wrote some poetry, but, as a child of his age, delighted in antithesis. One of his books of poetry had as its subtitle _The Concordant Discord of a Broken-healed Heart_. His hymns, however, are simple in style and make a close approach to the practicable type. Two of them are still largely in use: “Lord, it belongs not to my care” and “Ye holy angels bright.” Had the churches in his day given a fair opportunity, or furnished the inspiration of demand, Baxter might have been one of our great hymnists, superior to Watts in his deeper spirituality. John Austin (?-1669) wrote some excellent hymns for a book of “Devotions” for family use. Among them is “Blest be Thy love, dear Lord, That taught me this sweet way, Only to love Thee for Thyself And for that love obey,” which still finds a worthy place in our hymnals. About this time (1616) the long poem, “Hierusalem, my happie home,” appears to have been written. Only the initials F. B. P. are attached to the manuscript, now in the British Museum. It is conjectured that they stand for Francis Baker Priest. Out of it have been fashioned two very useful hymns: “Jerusalem, my happy home,” by Joseph Bromehead in 1795, and “O mother dear, Jerusalem,” by an unknown hand. The debt of the original to the Latin is quite evident, but it has original values as well. Aside from its length, a common fault in its time, it approaches the final type of the congregational hymns very nearly in its simplicity, devoutness, and in its practicable measure.