PERRONET. Saints, in glory perfect made, Wait thy passage through the shade: See, they throng the blissful shore. -Such the prospects that arise 405 EDWARD PERRONET. Except that he lived at Canterbury, and was the son of the vicar of Shoreham, Kent, we can give no information regarding the author of the following hymn-one of the noblest in the language, and with its own tune, "Miles Lane," one of the best known to English congregations. Crown Him Lord of All. All hail the power of Jesus' name! And crown Him Lord of all. Crown Him, ye martyrs of our God, Extol the stem of Jesse's rod, And crown Him Lord of all. Ye chosen seed of Israel's race, Ye Gentile sinners, ne'er forget Let every kindred, every tribe, Oh that with yonder sacred throng CHARLES WESLEY. To the organising faculty and amazing activity of John Wesley, there was provided a remarkable antithesis or supplement in the poetic fire of his brother Charles; and to the society so wonderfully brought together by the practical energy of the one, there was supplied an element of continual inspiration by the genius and fervour of the other. Keeping higher influences out of sight, the Wesleyan Hymn-book is to the Wesleyan Connexion very much what the soul is to the body; and although John Wesley himself and many others contributed, the collection owes its distinctive charm to that triumphant spirit who poured forth the "good matter" of the gospel in strains which often remind us of the harp of Pindar. "Those hymns are sung now in collieries and copper mines. How many has their heavenly music strengthened to meet death in the dark coal-pit; on how many dying hearts have they come back, as from a mother's lips, on the battle-field; beside how many death-beds have they been chanted by trembling voices, and listened to with joy unspeakable; how many have they supplied with prayer and praise, from the first thrill CHARLES WESLEY. 407 of spiritual fear to the last rapture of heavenly hope! They echo along the Cornish moors, as the corpse of the Christian miner is borne to his last resting-place; they cheer with heavenly messages the hard bondage of slavery; they have been the first words of thanksgiving on the lips of the liberated negro; they have given courage to brave men, and patience to suffering women; they have been a liturgy engraven on the hearts of the poor; they have borne the name of Jesus far and wide, and have helped to write it deep on countless hearts. And England is no more without a people's hymn-book."* CHARLES WESLEY was born at Epworth, December 18, 1708, and died at London, March 29, 1788. The Day of Judgment. Stand the omnipotent decree : Rests secure the righteous man! And mount above the wreck; Lo! the heavenly spirit towers, Like flame, o'er nature's funeral pyre, Triumphs in immortal powers, And claps his wings of fire! Nothing hath the just to lose, By worlds on worlds destroy'd; "The Voice of Christian Life in Song," by the Author of "Tales and Sketches of Christian Life." (P. 264.) A volume of exquisite taste and delightful instruction. Far beneath his feet he views, The grand millennial reign begun; Resting in this glorious hope To earthquake, plague, or sword: The latest trumpet of the seven, Soon our soul and dust shall join, And both fly up to heaven. Wrestling Jacob. Come, O thou Traveller unknown, My company before is gone, And I am left alone with Thee: I need not tell Thee who I am, Look on my hands, and read it there: But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou? Tell me Thy name, and tell me now. In vain Thou strugglest to get free, Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal To know it now, resolved I am: CHARLES WESLEY. Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, What though my shrinking flesh complain, I rise superior to my pain: When I am weak, then I am strong! VOL. IV. PART II. Yield to me now, for I am weak; 'Tis Love! 'tis Love! Thou diedst for me My prayer hath power with God: the grace Through faith I see Thee face to face. I see Thee face to face, and live! I know thee, Saviour, who Thou art, The Sun of Righteousness on me 2 M 409 |