Mortimer Collins says: Wesley's hymns are as much in earnest as Dibdin's sea-songs. I suspect Charles Wesley the poet did as much as John Wesley the orator for the permanence of Methodism. The magnetism of personal influence passes away; but the burning life of that wondrous psalmody, sung Sunday after Sunday by congregations full of faith, is imperishable."

97 THOU HIDDEN LOVE OF GOD.

THERE is a peculiar interest attached to this hymn. John Wesley is said to have translated it in Savannah, in the United States, where he suffered much and was grievously tormented by his ill-starred passion for a certain Miss Sophy. It was with special reference to the continually obtruding thought of this Miss Sophy that the Rev. John composed the verse "Is there a thing beneath the sun?" It seems to have been efficacious, and the lovelorn poet came home to meet a worse fate at the hands of her whom, for his Karma, he was allowed to make Mrs. Wesley. The hymn has helped thousands who never knew of Wesley and his ill-fated loves to acts of consecration and self-sacrifice from which they would otherwise have shrunk. Tersteegen, the original author of the hymn "Verborgne Gottesliebe, Du," was a German mystical poet who died in 1769.

Those depth unfathomed, no man knows:

HOU hidden Love of God, whose height,

I see from far Thy bounteous light,
Inly I sigh for Thy repose:
My heart is pained, nor can it be
At rest, till it finds rest in Thee.

'Tis mercy all, that Thou hast brought
My mind to seek her peace in Thee:
Yet while I seek, but find Thee not,

No peace my wandering soul shall see:
O when shall all my wanderings end,
And all my steps to Thee-ward tend!
Is there a thing beneath the sun
That strives with Thee my heart to share?
Ah! tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of every motion there :

Then shall my heart from earth be free:
When it hath found repose in Thee.

O Love, Thy sovereign aid impart,
To save me from low-thoughted care:
Chase this self-will through all my heart,
Through all its latent mazes there:
Make me Thy duteous child, that I
Ceaseless may Abba, Father, cry!

TUNE REST" OR "EUPHONY."

98-I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS. THIS is one of the most popular of Dr. Bonar's hymns. It belongs to the number of those in which the converted recite their experiences for the encouragement of the unconverted. The persistent use of "I" and " in this hymn has helped it to help many to whom "we" and " us "would have been much less effective.

I

HEARD the voice of Jesus say,
"Come unto me and rest;

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
Thy head upon My breast."
I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary and worn and sad,
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He has made me glad.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Behold, I freely give

66

me

The living water; thirsty one,

Stoop down and drink, and live."
I came to Jesus, and I drank
Of that life-giving stream,

My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
And now I live in Him.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"I am this dark world's light,
Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise,
And all thy day be bright."
I looked to Jesus, and I found
In Him my Star, my Sun;
And in that light of life I 'll walk,
Till travelling days are done.

99-SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS.

THIS little hymn by Mrs. Van Alstyne has comforted many, and will continue to do so." There are many souls from whom the craving for being "mothered has been left out. To them the longing to be folded in loving arms and pressed to a tender and sympathetic bosom is unintelligible. But to those who never outgrow, even in their maturest years, when overwhelmed by affliction, the instinctive heart-longing to seek the sheltering arms which comforted them in their childhood, this hymn is a special and most helpful favourite. It is when people are hard hit they need help. The just need no repentance, and the happy need no helper. But for the miserable, the promise of the shelter of the Everlasting Arms is sweet.

AFE in the arms of Jesus,

SAFE

Safe on His gentle breast,
There by His love o'ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.

Hark! 'tis the voice of angels

Borne in a song to me,
Over the fields of glory,

Over the jasper sea.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast;

There by His love o'ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest.

Safe in the arms of Jesus,

Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world's temptations,
Sin cannot harm me there.
Free from the blight of sorrow,
Free from my doubts and fears;
Only a few more trials,

Only a few more tears!

Jesus, my heart's dear Refuge,
Jesus has died for me;
Firm on the Rock of Ages
Ever my trust shall be.
Here let me wait with patience,
Wait till the night is o'er;
Wait till I see the morning
Break on the golden shore.

TUNE FROM "SONGS AND SOLOS."

100-O JESU, KING MOST WONDERFUL. THIS is another part of St. Bernard's hymn, “Jesu dulcis memoria," which is noticed under the heading "Jesus, the very thought of Thee."

JESU, King most wonderful,
Thou Conqueror renowned;
Thou sweetness most ineffable,
In whom all joys are found;

When once Thou visitest the heart,
Then truth begins to shine,
Then earthly vanities depart,
Then kindles love divine.

O Jesus, light of all below,
Thou fount of life and fire,
Surpassing all the joys we know,
All that we can desire;

May every heart confess Thy name,
And ever Thee adore:

And, seeking Thee, itself inflame
To seek Thee more and more.

Thee may our tongues for ever bless,
Thee may we love alone;

And ever in our lives express

The image of Thine own.

TUNE -"ST. AGNES."

101-COME, THOU FOUNT OF EVERY

BLESSING.

THIS hymn for a hundred years has been a great favourite. It has been wrongfully attributed to the Countess of Huntingdon. Its real author was one Robert Robinson, of whom a somewhat pathetic story is told. In his later years, this Robinson somewhat fell away from grace and displayed such levity in a stage-coach as to lead a lady fellow-passenger to labour with him in the Lord. As a final shot, she, all unknowing who the stranger was, quoted to him this hymn and spoke of how it had been blessed to her soul. Thereupon Robinson burst out into tears, crying: “Madam, I am the poor unhappy man who composed that hymn many years ago, and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I had then."