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Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee. Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may

not see, Only Thou art holy, there is none beside Thee,

Perfect in power, in love, and purity. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! All Thy works shall praise Thy name in earth

and sky and sea; Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty ! God in Three Persons, blessèd Trinity.

TUNE — “NICÆA.7- MILTON'S PSALM OF PRAISE

(17th Century). MILTON, our greatest poet save one, wrote only one hymn that has been found to help men - as a hymn. It is a paraphrase of Psalm cxxxvi. written when he was a boy of fifteen at St. Paul's School, and its length — twenty-four stanzas — precludes its general use. Those verses found most helpful by general usage are the following:

T ET us, with a gladsome mind,
L Praise the Lord, for He is kind :
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Let us sound His name abroad,
For of gods He is the God:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
He, with all commanding might,
Filled the new-made world with light:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.

He the golden-tressed sun
Caused all day his course to run:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
All things living He doth feed :
His full hand supplies their need:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
He His chosen race did bless,
In the wasteful wilderness:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
He hath, with a piteous eye,
Looked upon our misery :
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Let us, then, with gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind:
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.

TUNE -“INNOCENTS."

8- ADDISON'S “GRATITUDE(18th Century). “I PERCEIVE,” said Mr. Andrew Lang recently, “that either the best English poets have not written hymns, or that their hymns are unpopular with readers of the Sunday at Home." Yet Milton was represented, and Cowper and Keble and Newman. Addison can hardly claim to be one of the best English poets, although he is one of the most famous essayists; but his contributions to Hymns that have Helped are by no means unimportant. Of these one of the most generally used is his poem originally published in the Spectator at the close of an essay on gratitude.1

NHEN all Thy mercies, O my God,
VV My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost

In wonder, love, and praise.
Oh how shall words with equal warmth

The gratitude declare,
That glows within my thankful heart?

But Thou canst read it there.
Thy providence my life sustained,

And all my wants redressed,
When in the silent womb I lay,

And hung upon the breast.
Unnumbered comforts on my soul

Thy tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived

From whom those comforts flowed.
When in the slippery paths of youth

With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe,

And led me up to man.

1 On the appearance of the first edition of this work a correspondent wrote calling my attention to the fact that in the Atheneum of July 10, 1880, and in the Phonetic Journal of March 12, 1887, it was conclusively proved that the author of this hymn was not Addison, but one Richard Richmond, rector of Walton-on-the-Hill, Lancashire, 1690-1720. On the other hand, Mr. T. M. Healy, M. P., wrote saying that the late Sir Isaac Pitman, in an interesting inquiry as to the authorship of this hymn and the other attributed to Addison on page 232. claimed both as the work of Andrew Marvel, the "incorruptible Commoner."

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou

With health renewed my face;
And, when in sins and sorrows sunk,

Revived my soul with grace.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts

My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,

That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life

Thy goodness I 'll pursue ;
And, after death, in distant worlds,

The glorious theme renew.
Through all eternity to Thee

A joyful song I 'll raise :
But Oh! eternity's too short
To utter all Thy praise.

TUNE — "ST. PETER's." 9 - PROFESSOR BLACKIE'S CHANT OF

PRAISE (19th Century). The late Professor Blackie wrote much that is forgotten, but his Chant of Praise will live. It was sent me by one who had felt the glory and inspiration of its nature-worship cheer him like a sea-breeze. It is the nineteenth-century version of the sentiment which Milton expressed in the seventeenth and Addison in the eighteenth, each in the mode of his day and generation.

ANGELS holy,

A High and lowly,
Sing the praises of the Lord !
Earth and sky, all living nature,
Man, the stamp of thy Creator,

Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Sun and moon bright,

Night and moonlight, Starry temples azure-floored; Cloud and rain, and wild winds' madness, Sons of God that shout for gladness, Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Ocean hoary,

Tell His glory, Cliffs, where tumbling seas have roared ! Pulse of waters, biithely beating, Wave advancing, wave retreating, Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Rock and high land,

Wood and island, Crag, where eagle's pride hath soared; Mighty mountains, purple-breasted, Peaks cloud-cleaving, snowy-crested, Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Rolling river,

Praise Him ever, From the mountain's deep vein poured ; Silver fountain, clearly gushing, Troubled torrent, madly rushing, Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Bond and free man,

Land and seaman,
Earth, with peoples widely stored,
Wanderer lone o'er prairies ample,
Full-voiced choir, in costly temple,
Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord !

Praise Him ever,

Bounteous Giver ;
Praise Him, Father, Friend, and Lord !

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