So, whene'er the signal's given
Us from earth to call away,
Borne on angel's wing to heaven,
Glad the summons to obey,
May we ever

Reign with Christ in endless day!

MISSIONARY HYMN.*

Go! destined vessel, heavenly freighted, go!
For lo the Lord's ambassadors are there;
Faith sits at helm, and Hope attends the prow,
While thousands swell the sails with balmy prayer.

Jesus, thy Guardian, walks the briny wave,

Or on the whirlwind rides and rules the storm;
His eye regards thee, vigilant to save,
Though danger varies its terrific form.

Black gathering tempests, awed by His command,
Their hideous roar in lowly murmurs cease;
Whilst o'er the monstrous surge He waves His hand,
Or spreads the silky mantle of His peace.

The Lord of elements is Lord of men,

He stills the menace of the hostile mind;
His servants, soon as the glad port they gain,
In hearts prepared shall friendly welcome find.

Lo! India's tawny sons incline the ear,
And pause, attentive to the sacred word;
Heralds of God, your embassy declare,
And win obedient nations to the Lord.

Proclaim the cross, His banner lifted high,

And bid a guilty world find refuge there;
So shall the praise of myriads rend the sky,
And heaven and earth the mighty blessings

share.

the first Missionaries were sent to America, in 1772, by the Countess of Hunting. *These lines, printed from the original MS., were written by Mr. Shirley, when

don, under the Rev. Wm. Percy as their President.

Gleams the glad morn! arise, O King of kings!
Assume, exert Thine universal sway;
Till earth, subdued, its willing tribute brings,
And distant regions cheerfully obey.

Then, big with conquest, bring Thy glories down;
Let those that love Thy name Thy person view;
Friends of Thy cross, they soon shall share Thy crown
In peaceful rest, with bliss for ever new.

EASTER HYMN.*

FROM heaven the loud, th' angelic song began,
It shook the skies, and reached astonished man ;
By man re-echoed, it shall mount again,
While fragrant odours fill the blissful plain.

Worthy the Lamb of boundless sway,
In heaven or earth the Lord of all;

Ye princes, rulers, powers, obey,

And low before His footstool fall.

The deed was done; the Lamb was slain ;
The groaning earth, the burden bore:

He rose, He lives, He lives to reign,

Nor time shall shake His endless power.

Riches, and all that deck the great,

From worlds unnumbered hither bring; The tribute pour before His seat,

And hail the triumphs of our King.

Wisdom and strength are His alone;

He raised the top-stone, shouting Grace; Honour has built His lofty throne,

And glory shines upon His face.

From heaven, from earth, loud bursts of praise
The mighty blessings shall proclaim!

Blessings that earth to glory raise;
The purchase of the wounded Lamb.

* The music of this piece is by Millgrove.

Higher, still higher swell the strain ;
Creation's voice, the note prolong ;
The Lamb shall ever, ever reign:
Let hallelujahs crown the song.
Hallelujah.

WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE,

SEN.

WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE was born at Sandwich, on the 7th April, 1729.

apprenticed to a shipwright at Sheerness.

In 1743, he was

About his twentieth year, he experienced a great spiritual change. He began to join a few persons for Scripture reading and prayer; he sub After a period of subordinate employment in

sequently engaged in theological studies.

He continued to retain
Independent chapel at

Sheerness dockyard, he was appointed master-mastmaker in 1773that office till his death. In 1766, he undertook the ministry of an Sheerness. His pastoral services were much valued. He died on the 7th February, 1797, in his sixty-eighth year. In 1776, Mr. Shrubsole published "Christian Memoirs, a Review of the accompanied with a memoir of the author, by his son. The following hymn, by Mr. Shrubsole

present state of Religion in England." A third edition of that

first appeared in 1780.

MISSIONARY HYMN.

work was

ARM of the Lord! awake! awake!

Put on Thy strength, the nations shake;

And let the world, adoring, see

Triumphs of mercy wrought by Thee.

Say to the heathen from Thy throne,
"I am Jehovah, God alone !"
Thy voice their idols shall confound,
And cast their altars to the ground.

No more let human blood be spilt,
Vain sacrifice for human guilt;

But to each conscience be applied

The blood that flow'd from Jesus' side.

Arm of the Lord, Thy power extend ;
Let Mahomet's imposture end ;
Break papal superstition's chain,
And the proud scoffer's rage restrain.

published in 1957.

Let Zion's time of favour come :

Oh bring the tribes of Israel home:
And let our wondering eyes behold
Gentiles and Jews in Jesus' fold.

Almighty God, Thy grace proclaim
In every clime of every name;
Let adverse powers before Thee fall,
And crown the Saviour Lord of all.

WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE, JUN.

WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE, jun., son of the preceding, was born at Sheerness, on the 21st November, 1759. He was originally employed as a shipwright. In 1785, he proceeded to London, and became a clerk in the accountants' division of the Bank of England. In the bank, his position gradually improved; he latterly held the responsible post of secretary of the committee of treasury. He connected himself with the principal religious and charitable associations in the metropolis, and occasionally contributed, both in prose and verse, to the publications of the Religious Tract Society. His death took place on the 23rd August, 1829. The following compositions of Mr. Shrubsole have been kindly supplied by a member of his family. In the collections, the two latter are attributed to others.

LOOKING UNTO JESUS.

IN all the paths my feet pursue

While travelling to my heavenly rest,
My wearied powers their strength renew,
My spirit feels Divinely blest,
When, Saviour, to Thy cross I flee,
And my whole soul commit to Thee.

When with a weight of care I bend,
Oppress'd beneath the heavy load,
And troubles every step attend,

In life's perplex'd and rugged road,
Then, O my Saviour, be Thou near,
My cares to take, my heart to cheer.

When numerous snares beset my feet,

Spread by the world, by sense and sin;
When bold temptation's front I meet,

Or feel a treacherous heart within,

Jesus, my guide and helper be,

And let me stay my soul on Thee.

When duties on my languid mind
Wage but a weak and feeble claim,
And in devotion's hours I find

No kindling of a heavenly flame,
Saviour, the will and power impart ;
Direct my mind and warm my heart.

Should my breast heave with labouring sighs, Oppress'd with pain, o'ercharged with grief; Should joy be hidden from my eyes,

And hope delay her sweet relief: Then, gracious Saviour, by me stay, And wipe the gushing tear away.

Soon what will all the world avail,—

Its hopes and fears, its joys and strife?
Soon even flesh and heart must fail,
And leave me on the verge of life;
Then, Saviour, then my portion be,
In death and in eternity.

A MISSIONARY HYMN.

BRIGHT as the sun's meridian blaze,
Vast as the blessings he conveys,
Wide as his reign from pole to pole,
And permanent as his control,-

So, Jesus, let Thy kingdom come;
Then sin and hell's terrific gloom
Shall, at its brightness, flee away—
The dawn of an eternal day.

Then shall the heathen, fill'd with awe,
Learn the blest knowledge of Thy law;
And Antichrist, on every shore,
Fall from his throne, to rise no more.

Then shall Thy lofty praise resound
On Afric's shores, through India's
ground;
And islands of the Southern Sea

Shall stretch their eager arms to Thee.