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Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!
Thou hast no time, bright day!
Dear fountain of refreshment,
To pilgrims far away!
Upon the Rock of Ages
They raise thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor's laurel,
And thine the golden dower.
O sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect!
O sweet and blessed country,
That eager hearts expect!
Jesus, in mercy bring us

To that dear land of rest;
Who art, with God the Father,
And Spirit, ever blest.

TUNE-"JENNER."

153 - JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN.

ERUSALEM the golden,

With milk and honey blest,

Beneath thy contemplation
Sink heart and voice opprest.
I know not, Oh, I know not,
What joys await us there;
What radiancy of glory,

What light beyond compare!

They stand, those halls of Sion,
All jubilant with song,

And bright with many an angel,
And all the martyr throng.
The Prince is ever in them;
The daylight is serene;
The pastures of the blessed

Are decked in glorious sheen.

There is the throne of David;

And there, from care released,
The shout of them that triumph,
The song of them that feast;
And they who, with their Leader,
Have conquered in the fight,
For ever and for ever

Are clad in robes of white.

O sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect!
O sweet and blessed country,
That eager hearts expect!
Jesus, in mercy bring us

To that dear land of rest;
Who art, with God the Father,
And Spirit, ever blest.

TUNE-"EWING."

154 - NEAR US STANDING HERE

FORGETFUL.

WHEN the miners were imprisoned in Pontypridd mine, expecting never again to see the light of day, they sang the following verse of a hymn well known in Wales:

N the waves and mighty waters

But my Saviour, my Beloved,
Who was stricken in my stead :
In the flood of death's dark river
He will hold my head above;

I shall through the waves go singing
For one look of Him I love.

YN

7N y dyfroedd mawr a'r tonau
Nid oes neb a ddeil fy mhen

Ond fy anwyl Briod Iesu
A fu farw ar y pren
Cyfaill yw yn afon angeu
Ddeil fy mhen

yn uwch na'r don

Golwg arno wna i mi ganu

Yn yr

afon ddofn hon.

I asked Mr. Burt if he could tell me what hymns had been sung by North-country miners in similar circumstances, but he did not know.

APPENDICES.

APPENDIX I.

SOME LETTERS FROM WORKING-MEN.

ONE of the difficulties which I have had to contend with has been the multitude of letters received from unknown correspondents, who have kindly responded to my appeal, and certify that this, that, or the other hymn marked an epoch in their life. It is quite impossible for me to quote from all, or even from many of those letters, neither can I by any possibility print all the hymns which have thus received the hall-mark of personal helpfulness, but one or two extracts may be made, chiefly from those upon whom the burden of life rests somewhat heavily.

Thomas Martin, a Darlington engineer, writing as one of the "Sons of Toil," says:

"We, sir, have our helps as well as those above us. I can assure you that the sweet songs of the sanctuary of the soul have given us weary ones many a solace and a lift; and amidst the jarring and wrangling of the sectarians over their creeds and dogmas, how sweet is that inspired hymn No. 169 in Dr. Martineau's collection of 'Hymns of Praise and Prayer,' commencing thus

Spirit of Truth, be Thou my Guide,

O clasp my hand in Thine.

And let me never quit Thy side,

Thy comforts are divine.

Pride scorns Thee for Thy lowly mien ;

But who like Thee can rise

Above this toilsome sordid scene,

Beyond the holy skies.

Weak is Thine eye, and soft Thy voice ;

But wondrous is Thy might

To make the wretched soul rejoice,

And give the simple light.

I can assure you, sir, that we have our consolations and help

from such-like hymns; and many more."

Another working-man sends me a letter expressing his earnest hope that, whatever else is left out, I will take care to include No. 28 in Sankey's hymn-book; the hymn beginning, "I left it all with Jesus, long ago." Speaking of his own experience, he says he passed through a period of much tribulation, seeking peace and finding none :

"I thought I had done my best, but still that was unsatisfactory. Something always seemed to be kept back; something that ought to have come out and did not, or rather, perhaps I should say that was not fully understood by the one to whom it was told. I had no doubt of my wish to repent, no doubt of my willingness to make every reparation in my power, but still peace would not come, At last I took it all straight to Jesus, and the burden rolled away from my heart. That is why I love No. 28 of Sankey's collection of Sacred Songs and Solos."

Hymns often act in this fashion. They cling to the memory, and by supplying the right word at the right time, act as the open sesame " to the treasure which had been long and vainly sought.

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An adult class at a friend's school at Darlington, being asked to say which hymns had helped them most, named, "I know not what awaits me," with the chorus, "Where He may lead, I'll follow" as the first favourite; the second, "When our heads are bowed with woe;" the third, "In the secret of His presence, hangs my soul's delight;" the fourth, "Oh, safe to the Rock that is higher than I."

A mechanic of Oldham tells how when work was slack and hands were being dismissed, and no one knew whose turn it would be next he was mightily sustained by a verse in Cowper's hymn, "Sometimes a light surprises." The verse which did him good, and seemed to him a message from God, was this, after the verse ending, "E'en let the unknown tomorrow bring with it what it may :

It can bring with it nothing,

But He will bear us through;
Who gives the lilies clothing
Will clothe His people too.
Beneath the spreading heavens,
No creature but is fed ;
And He who feeds the ravens

Will give His children bread.

Many a time that verse has cheered him and given him good heart to face the worst in the gloomiest of bad times.

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