In the reign of his successor, the church service was entirely changed, and the Protestant liturgy was first published for general use.  Four years after this event, on the accession of Mary, the “old worship” was again restored.  But when, at length, the reformed religion was firmly established by Elizabeth, and the ritual permanently changed, the music of the old masses, suited to the genius and structure of the Romish service, was no longer available for the simpler forms of worship by which it was replaced.  During the holiest and most solemn portions of the ancient worship, the organ had for centuries been heard in the cathedrals, while the choruses of praise and adoration resounded through the aisles.  Men’s opinions may undergo a change, but the feelings and ideas created by early association, and fostered by habit, are far more lasting and enduring.  The poet must have lamented the loss of the music, which, in the stern ascetic spirit of Puritanism prevailing at a later period of our history, he assisted to banish from our churches, as he sang—­

    “But let my due feet never fail
    To walk the studious cloisters pale,
    And love the high embowed roof,
    With antique pillars, massy proof,
    And storied windows richly dight,
    Casting a dim religious light,
    There let the pealing organ blow
    To the full-voiced choir below,
    In service high, and anthem clear,
    As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
    Dissolve me into extasies,
    And bring all heav’n before mine eyes.”

At the period of which we speak, the want of music in the services of the church seems to have been severely felt, though perhaps the simpler forms of the new ritual were comparatively but little adapted for musical display.  Great exertions were made throughout the kingdom by the deans and chapters to restore the efficiency of the choirs; and Elizabeth, in the exercise of what then appeared an undoubted prerogative of the crown, issued her warrant for the impressment of singing men and boys for the castle of Windsor.  The churches and cathedrals still, indeed, retained their organs; “the choirs and places where they sing” were still in being; all the materiel was at hand; but, with the exception of the production of John Marbeck, called “The Book of Common Prayer Noted,” which was printed in 1550, there was as yet no music for the new services in the English language.  Two years after the accession of Elizabeth, and one year after the bill for the uniformity of common prayer had passed the legislature, a choral work, “very necessarie for the church of Christ to be frequented and used,” was published, among the authors of which the name of Tallis appeared.  The musical necessities of the newly established church appear to have stimulated or developed talents which, under other circumstances, might perhaps have been less prominently brought forward:  at all events, the demand for this music would seem a principal reason