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us, and will probably be new to most of our readers; but we have seldom read a finer strain of Christian consolation.

"Transporting tidings which we hear !
What music to the pious ear!
Christ loves each humble saint so well
He with his Lord shall ever dwell.

O happy dead, in thee that sleep,
While o'er their mouldering dust we weep!
O faithful Saviour, who shall come
That dust to ransom from the tomb!

While thine unerring word imparts
So rich a cordial to our hearts,
Through tears our triumphs shall be shown,
Though round their graves, and near our own."

And how could such a hymn as this next be passed over, blazing up as it does with fire from the altar? It may be read and sung a hundred times, and never lose its interest.

"Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes,
And raise your voices high;
Awake, and praise that sovereign love,
That shows salvation nigh.

"On all the wings of time it flies;
Each moment brings it near;
Then welcome each declining day!
Welcome each closing year!

"Not many years their round shall run,
Not many mornings rise,
Ere all its glories stand revealed
To our admiring eyes.

"Ye wheels of nature, speed your course;

Ye mortal powers decay;

Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day."

The compilers of the "Church Psalmody" have introduced the above hymn into their collection; but why should they have altered the second verse thus?

"Swift on the wings of time it flies;
Each moment brings it near :

Then gladly view each closing day,
And each revolving year!"

We wish that we could now and then meet with a hymn as it came from its author.

There are other hymns of Doddridge which have been strangely neglected, such as those beginning, "Thrice happy state, where saints shall live," - "Return, my soul, and seek thy rest," - " Unite, my roving thoughts, unite," - " Lord, we have wandered from thy way," &c., than which few better can be had from any source. The fact is, we suspect, that collectors have borrowed Doddridge's hymns from each other, instead of going to Doddridge himself; and that a few of them have thus descended from one hymn-book to another, with no other care than that of constant alteration. In this particular, the diligence of collectors has indeed been great. The tormented compositions have had no Sabbath to their souls; and some of them have been so altered and re-altered, that if Dr. Doddridge were to come back on earth, he could not know, and would not own them.

Charles Wesley holds, in our estimation, the next place, as a hymn-writer, to the two already mentioned. The family of the Wesleys was a most remarkable one. John Wesley conducted one of the most important, and, as we sincerely believe, one of the most beneficial revolutions, take it altogether, which England has ever seen, we mean the introduction of Methodism. Samuel, the eldest brother, was a man of a strong mind, and of more good sense and cool judgment, than either of the others; and that he was not deficient in poetical talent may be seen by turning to the hymn which has been adopted into several collections, beginning, "The morning flowers display their sweets." Charles had a genius which was like a fountain of fire; and burning words flowed from it spontaneously. Knowing the importance of psalmody, John, the apostle of Methodism, determined to make a collection of hymns, suited to the peculiarities of his sect, and Charles was ready to assist him to any extent. The result was a book of most marked character, and of a high order of poetry, containing five hundred and sixty hymns, by far the greater part of which Charles is known to have written, though no authors' names were given. John himself is understood to have written several of them; and he introduced

the book by a very sensible preface, subscribed with his own name, the last paragraph of which we will here repeat. After speaking of the poetry of the volume, he thus proceeds. "But that which is of infinitely more moment than the spirit of poetry, is the spirit of piety. And I trust that all persons of real judgment will find this breathing through the whole collection. It is in this view chiefly, that I would recommend it to every truly pious reader, as a means of raising or quickening the spirit of devotion; of confirming his faith; of enlivening his hope; and of kindling and increasing his love to God and man. When poetry thus keeps its place, as the handmaid of piety, it shall attain, not a poor, perishable wreath, but a crown that fadeth not away."

The hymns of Charles Wesley, though often extravagant, or extravagant according to our perception, are peculiarly marked by the strong expression of devout affections. They are the words of a fervent, spirit in close communion with God. He is occasionally, also, sublime. There is a hymn of his on the Judgment, which could only be sung in seasons of great excitement, and for the admission of which into a collection we should not vehemently plead, but which seems to have been inspired by a sight of the scene which is its subject. It begins in the following abrupt and striking manner.

"Stand the omnipotent decree!
Jehovah's will be done!
Nature's end we wait to see,
And hear her final groan."

And, singing afterward of the security of the immortal spirit of man in the general wreck of matter, it continues,

"Lo! the heavenly spirit towers

Like flames o'er nature's funeral pyre:

Triumphs in immortal powers,
And claps his wings of fire!"

There is a remarkable hymn in Wesley's collection, on death, full of descriptive pathos, which can hardly be used in public worship, at least, in our congregations, but from which we cannot forbear quoting a few stanzas.

"This earth is affected no more

With sickness, nor shaken with pain;

The war in the members is o'er,
And never shall vex him again.

No anger henceforward, nor shame,
Shall redden his innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,
And passion is vanished away.

"This languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet, immovable breast
Is heaved by affliction no more.
This heart is no longer the seat
Of trouble and torturing pain,
It ceases to flutter and beat,

It never shall flutter again."

But there are plenty of the Wesleyan hymns which can be used in the public worship of any denomination of Christians. The hymns beginning, " My God, my strength, my hope," "A charge to keep I have,” — "Give to the winds thy fears," are not unknown among us. The most careful Unitarian could have no objection to hear or sing such an invocation of heavenly wisdom as this which follows.

"Be it my only wisdom here,
To serve the Lord with filial fear,
With loving gratitude;
Superior sense may I display,
By shunning every evil way,
And walking in the good.

"O may I still from sin depart!
A wise and understanding heart,
Father, to me be given!
And let me through thy Spirit know
To glorify my God below,

And find my way to heaven."

And who could have his rest disturbed by such a Sabbath

hymn as this?

"Lord, I believe a rest remains,

To all thy people known;

A rest where pure enjoyment reigns,
And thou art loved alone;

"A rest, where all our soul's desire
Is fixed on things above;
Where fear, and sin, and grief expire,
Cast out by perfect love.

"O that I now the rest might know,
Believe and enter in !

Now, Father, now the power bestow,
And let me cease from sin!

"Remove all hardness from my heart,
All unbelief remove;

To me the rest of faith impart,
The sabbath of thy love."

We might go on quoting for a long time, if we had room, with pleasure to ourselves, and with no fear of fatiguing our readers. The man who could write such hymns, Methodist or no Methodist, was not a man to be looked down upon even by the highest and the best. Distinguished by devotional feeling, harmonious numbers, the felicitous use of Scripture language, and an indescribable impulse of heart which sets through them like a stream, many of them must be received at last in our churches, and prized as they deserve, in spite of prejudice and sectarian division; and blessed be the power of poetry and music, which can thus bring separated hearts together, and make distant churches unite in offering the same sacrifice of the lips to the same gracious and all-accepting God!

Merrick is a writer who precedes Wesley in point of time. His version of the Psalms consists of long, continuous paraphrases, in general without regard to the division of verses. Hence those psalms of his, which we see in our books, are usually made up of selected lines; and not much more can be obtained from him, than has already been culled. His version of the thirty-ninth Psalm is peculiarly happy.

The hymns generally attributed to Addison, are given by some to Andrew Marvell, but we should think on insufficient grounds. If they belong to Addison, they are the best poetry he ever wrote. And this is one proof of the fact already hinted at, that religion and virtue are poetic inspiration of themselves; or rather, that religious themes bring their own inspiration to a religious mind.

Cowper is the only poet, of a celebrated name as such, who has written many hymns. They are all, or at least the greater part of them are, included in John Newton's Olney Collection. He has produced twelve or fourteen which are worthy of his reputation, and are choice gems in the church

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