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At the same time he is particular to guard and pray against any perversion or exaggeration of this permitted human love :

While with just, peculiar kindness We each other's soul embrace, Sare us from that doting blindness Fatal to our fallen race; From the mean, contracting passion Keep us free and unconfined; Raise our generous inclination, Fix our love on all mankind. Several hymns still used by the Methodists, and made to bear upou the church and Christian fellowship, were written at various times by the poet with direct reference to his wedded state.

Come away to the skies, My beloved, arise,

And rejoice in the day thou wast born, was addressed to his wife upon her birth-day. Its companion-piece,

Come let us ascend, My companion and friend,

To a taste of the banquet above, had a similar origin. So had the fine hymn, “ Centre of our hopes thou art :” which in the original commences :

Author of the peace unknown, Lover of my friend and me,

Who of twain bast made us onc, Onc preserve us still in thee: All our beightened blessings bless ; Crown our hopes with full success.

His object in composition, says Mr. Jackson, was first his own edification, then the edification of the church. Hence it was natural for him to use language which, while refering directly to his personal affairs, could be easily turned to all believers and the church at large :

Why hast thou cast our lot In the same age and place,

And why together brought, To seo cach other's face? To join with softest sympathy, And mix our friendly souls in thee. The poet's wife was an intelligent, aimiable, and pious woman, who did her whole duty by her husband. Iler character, as slightly recorded in his Biography, by Mr. Jackson, makes no profound or startling impression; but they seem to have lived in uninterupted peace. He was not so happy in his children. Five died in infancy, and the remaining three caused him much anxiety and sorrow by

their lack of early piety. The younger son, Samuel, a perverse and undutiful child, embittered his father's dying years by going over to Popery. The poet's fortune in this respect gave melancholy confirmation to that stoical preference of his brother's:

I have no babes to hold me here; But children more securely dear

*For mine I humbly claim; Better than daughters or than sons, — Temples divine of living stone,

Inscribed with Jesus' name.

We cannot forbear pursuing the comparison, in Charles's own touching verse. In the first poem, headed “ Naomi and Ruth. Adapted to the Minister and People,” he addresses his loved and loving spiritual children, who often, on foot, followed his horse for miles:

Turn again, my children, turn; Wherefore would ye go with me?

Oh forbear, forbear to mourn ; Jesus wills it so to be. Why, when God would bave us part, Weep ye thus, and break my heart ?

Go in peace, my children, go; Only Jesus' steps pursue :

He shall pay the debt I owe; He shall kindly deal with you ;
He your sure reward shall be, Bless

you
for
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love to me. Compare with this the earth-renouncing hopelessness, the mournful resignation of the following, when his aged heart was wrung by the ungrateful folly of his son in the flesh :

Farewell, my all of earthly hope,
My nature's stay, my age's prop, Irrevocably gone !

Submissive to the will divine,
I acquiesce and make it mine, - I offer up my son !

The blessed day of my release
(Should sorrow's pangs no sooner cease) Will swallow up my woe ;

Make darkness light, and crooked straight,
Unwind the labyrinths of fate, And all the secret show.

But while thy way is in the deep,
Thou dost not chide, if still I weep, If still mine eyes run o'er:

The bitterness of death is past;
The bitterness of life may last A few sad moments more.

Patient till death, I feel my pain,
But neither murmur nor complain, While humbled in the dust :

My sins the cause of my distress
I feel, and mournfully confess The punishment is just.
Wherefore with soft and silent

pace
I measure out my suffering days, In view of joys to come,

In hope his plan to comprehend, When Jesus sball with clouds descend, And call me from the tomb. The life of Charles Wesley was a varied, and in the main, a sad one. He thoroughly understood the great lesson of the book of Ecclesiastes, and of all earthly life:

Taught by long experience, Lord, By thy Spirit taught, I see,
True is thy severest word, All on earth is vanity :

Empty all our bliss below, Seeming bliss, but real woe. He never forgot that this is not our rest. He expected persecution and opprobrium as the natural and necessary favors of the world towards living Christians:

Since first we heavenward turned our face,

Exposed and outraged all day long,
A helpless, poor, afflicted race,

For doing good, we suffer wrong:
We suffer shame, distress, and loss,

And wait for all thy glorious cross. But the prospect did not frighten him. When he first undertook to follow Christ, he began to deny bimself and take up his cross :

And did my Lord on earth endure

Sorrow and hardship and distress,
That I might sit me down secure,

And rest in self-indulgent ease ?
His delicate disciple, I,
Like him might neither live, nor die ?
Thy holy will be done, not mine ;

Be suffered all thy boly will:
I dare not, Lord, the cross decline;

I will not lose the slightest ill,
Or lay the heaviest burden down, -
The richest jewel of my crown.
Sorrow is solid joy, and pain

Is pure delight, endured for thee;
Reproach and loss are glorious gain,

And death is immortality ;
And who for thee their all have given,
Have nobly bartered earth for heaven.

Some eminent pleasures, indeed, he enjoyed, in the consciousness of his Maker's favor, in communion with God's people, and in the exercise of his gifts for his Redeemer's glory:

How happy, gracious Lord, are we,
Divinely drawn to follow thee, Whose hours divided are

Betwixt the mount and multitude ;
Our day is spent in doing good, Our night in praise and prayer.

With us, as melancholy void,
No moment lingers unemployed, Or unimproved below;

Our weariness of life is gone,
Who live to serve our God alone, And only thee to know.
And his impressible nature, susceptible of all extremes of
emotion, sometimes rose to ecstasy in view of his spiritual
privileges :

What a mercy is this, Wbat a heaven of bliss,

Ilow unspeakably happy am I!
Gathered into the fold, With thy people enrolled,

With thy people to live and to die !
In a rapture of joy My life I employ,

The God of my life to proclaim :
'Tis worth living for this, To administer bliss

And salvation in Jesus's name.
As often was he in the depths of despondency and gloom;
but his depression, like his excitement, is always that of a
Christian. His most mournful pieces are full of submis-
sion, humility, and faith; and thus, often his “ sweetest
songs are those that tell of saddest thought:”

A child of sorrow from the womb, By sad variety of pain
Weighed down, I sink into the tomb, Yet only of myself complain :
My sins the root of bitterness I must in life and death confess.

Always profoundly sensible that he was a pilgrim and stranger upon earth, worldly things seemed to him as dream, and nothing real but the realities of eternity:

The angels are at home in heaven; The saints unsettled pilgrims here :
Our days are as a shadow, driven From earth ; so soon we disappear.
We no abiding city bave, No place of resting but the grave.

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“ On going to a new habitation,” moving from Bristol to London, he sings :

What then is change of place to me?
The end of sin and misery In every place is nigh:

No spot of earth but yields a grave;

Where'er He wills, if Jesus save, I lay me down and die. And again :

No matter where or how I in this descrt live,
If, when my dying bead I bow, Jesus my soul receive :
Blest with thy precious love, Saviour, 'tis all my care

To reach the purchased house above, And find a mansion there. His tender sympathies were often tried by the personal unkindness or spiritual faithlessness of his friends. Divisions were introduced into the Methodist societies ; some of his followers became Calvinists or Moravians, and were taught to turn from their spiritual father as a false prophet; others embraced fatal errors, and abandoned the profession and practice of the common faith. On such occasions, the poet's wounded spirit soared to the healing fountain. In the volumes of 1739 are a number of hymns on the “ Loss of his Friends :"

Take these broken reeds away! On the Rock of Ages I
Calmly now my spirit stay, Now on Christ alone rely;
Every other prop resign, Sure the sinner's Friend is mine.
Fly, my friends, with treacherous speed; Melt as snow before the sun;
Leave me at my greatest need, — Leave me to my God alone,
To my Help which cannot fail, To my Friend unchangeable.
While I thus my soul recline On my dear Redeemer's breast,
Need I for the creature pine, Fondly seek a farther rest,

Still for human friendship sue, Stoop, ye worms of earth, to you ? With such sublime consolations did the Christian soothe his own afflicted spirit and the spirits of as many as could rise with him to that altitude of faith. But for the enduring comfort, the perfect rest of life, he looked beyond the present state :

Come, Finisher of sin and woe, And let me die my God to sec;
My God, as I am known, to know, Fathom the depths of Deity,

And spend, contemplating thy face, A blest eternity in praise.
VOL. XXI. No. 81.

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