:

great extent, the cultivation of letters and during the period of the Revolution, and for many years subsequent, vital questions of a political character pertaining to the formation and government of the states and of the nation, engrossed most of their attention; so that there was really some truth, if not unkindness, in the sneer of the Edinburgh Review, fifty years ago, "Who reads an American book ?" But so rapid has been our progress in every department of literature and science, that now the reverse question may be asked, with no little pride, on the other side of the Atlantic, "Who does NOT read American books?"

Although such an unprecedented number of hymnbooks and works on hymnology have been published since 1860, that this might, not inappropriately, be called the hymnological decade of the nineteenth century, yet I can make no apology for adding another to the number, as I do not think that this department of literature has even yet received the consideration and honour it deserves. When man's higher nature and higher wants are considered, there is no literary subject that has pre-eminence over it, if there be any that equals it in true value; for NO ONE IS SO SURE of a

LASTING AS WELL AS LOVING REMEMBRANCE AS

THE

AUTHOR OF A GOOD HYMN. Watts, Wesley, Doddridge, Toplady, Cowper and Lyte will live in the affections of millions, when others of far greater learning,

1 Vol. xxxi. for December, 1818.

and of much higher intellectual rank in their day, will be utterly forgotten. In the new edition of "The Men of the Time," published by Messrs. Routledge and Sons, there are about three thousand names; while the names of Horatius Bonar and Ray Palmer are omitted. But I feel as confident as I can be of any future event, that of these three thousand names, by far the greater part will have utterly faded away from the minds of men, never to be recalled, when the names of the authors of

will be cherished and loved, wherever there are hearts to sing in the English tongue the praises of the Redeemer.

I trust that the few "Notes" and short "Biographical Sketches will give additional interest to the hymns. When we are struck with the beauty of a piece, it gives us increased pleasure to know what were the circumstances, if any, which called it forth. I only regret that for the want of fuller materials these "Notes" should be so meagre. So also when we are pleased with an author's productions, we like to know when and where he lived, and what was his chief life

'The Seventh, 1868.

2 See the hymn, "Stand up for Jesus."

work. But the "Sketches " I have in almost all cases designedly made short: a few, however, are so from the want of more and better information.

In conclusion I would take this opportunity to say to my many friends who know that six or seven years ago I began the preparation of a larger and more general work upon the subject of Hymnology,-differing in its plan from anything that has hitherto appeared,— that impaired health has been the chief reason why I have been prevented from completing it. Still, it is in an advanced stage of preparation, and I fondly trust that before the close of another year I shall be enabled to have ready for the press the work which has so long engrossed no small portion of my thoughts, and for the completion of which I have, for some time, been increasingly solicitous.

London, July, 1868.

C. D. C.

ERRATA.

While the Hymns were going through the press, I was in Heidelberg, Germany, and consequently could not read the proof-sheets without great inconvenience and delay. I have found but the two following errors, and those in the names of the authors :

For P. W. Higginson, read T. W. Higginson.

For Thomas Mackellan, read Thomas Mackellar.

I have also found the hymn " O Lord, Thy work revive," to be duplicated, and assigned to Mrs. Brown; it is Mr. Hastings'.

LAS! how swift the moments fly!
How flash the hours along!

Scarce here, yet gone already by,

The burden of a song;

See childhood, youth, and manhood pass,
And age with furrow'd brow;

Time was-time shall be-drain the glass-
But where in Time is Now?

Time is the measure but of change,
No present hour is found;

The Past, the Future, fill the range

Of Time's unceasing round.
Where then is now? In realms above,

With God's atoning Lamb,

In regions of eternal love,

Where sits enthroned "I AM."

B

Then, Pilgrim, let thy joys and tears
On Time no longer lean;

But henceforth all thy hopes and fears
From earth's affection wean;

To God let votive accents rise;
With truth-with virtue live;
So all the bliss that Time denies,
Eternity shall give.

John Quincy Adams.

H

II.

SABBATH MORNING.

ARK! 'tis the holy temple's bell,—

The voice that summons me to prayer:

My heart, each roving fancy quell;
Come, to the house of God repair.

There, while in unison sublime,

Souls to the throne of God ascend, Let no unhallow'd child of time

Profane pollutions with them blend.

How for thy wants canst thou implore,
Crave for thy frailties pardon free,

Of praise the votive tribute pour,

Or bend, in thanks, the grateful knee,—