THOMAS GIBBONS, D.D.

THOMAS GIBBONS was born in the neighbourhood of Swaffham Prior, Cambridgeshire, on the 31st May, 1720. In 1742, he became assistant minister at Silver Street, and in the following year was elected minister of the Independent congregation at Haberdashers' Hall, London. He composed a life of Dr. Watts, and other biographical and philosophical works, in acknowledgment of which the degree of D.D. was conferred on him by the University of Aberdeen. His hymns were published in 1784. Dr. Gibbons died on the 22nd February, 1785.

GOODNESS OF GOD.

THY goodness, Lord, our souls confess,

Thy goodness we adore ;

A spring whose blessings never fail,

A sea without a shore.

Sun, moon, and stars Thy love attest,

In every cheerful ray ;

Love draws the curtains of the night,
And love restores the day.

Thy bounty every season crowns
With all the bliss it yields;
With joyful clusters bend the vines,
With harvests wave the fields:

But chiefly Thy compassions, Lord,
Are in the Gospel seen;

There, like the sun, Thy mercy shines
Without a cloud between.

Thy Son, Thy noblest, richest gift,
Was from Thy bosom sent,
To bear from off our guilty world
Its load of punishment.

Pardon, acceptance, peace, and joy

Are publish'd in His name:
Ours is the life, the glory ours,

And His the death and shame.

Of sovereign grace how wide the reign;
How strong the current rolls

That bears to heav'ns unbounded bliss
Our hell-deserving souls!

PLEADING WITH GOD IN AFFLICTION,

To Thee, my God, whose presence fills
The earth, and seas, and skies,

To Thee, whose name, whose heart is love,
With all my powers I rise.

Though of Thy ways are wrapt in clouds

Mysterious and unknown,

Truth, righteousness, and mercy stand,

The pillars of Thy throne.

MRS. GILBERT.

MRS. GILBERT, nee ANN TAYLOR, is connected with a gifted family. Her grandfather, Isaac Taylor, was a celebrated engraver. He educated his sons, Charles and Isaac, to his own profession. The former is to be remembered as the industrious editor of Calmet: the latter abandoned art, and, directing himself towards the ministry, accepted, in 1796, the charge of an Independent congregation at Colchester, afterwards at Ongar, in Essex. His wife, whose maiden name was Ann Martin, composed several works for the domestic circle, which enjoyed a wide popularity. Their children, Ann, Jane, Isaac, and Jeffreys were intended as engravers, and were early employed in acquiring a knowledge of the art. Isaac became a distinguished philosophical writer; he died in 1864. Jeffreys compose I many small works of interest and humour: he died in 1853 The sisters obtained reputation for their poetical abilities. Jane is noticed subsequently in the present work. Ann, the subject of the present sketch, was born at Islington, in 1782. She married the Rev. Joseph Gilbert, successively paster of Independent congregations at Hull and Nottingham. Mr. Gilbert died at Nottingham, in 1852. Mrs. Gilbert continues to reside at Nottingham. Conjointly with her sister, she published early in the century, "Original Poems," "Hymns for Infant Minds," and "Rhymes for the Nursery." She has contributed 18 hymns to Dr. Leifchild's collection. Her last published work is a memoir of her husband, which appeared in 1853. The following compositions have been contributed by Mrs. Gilbert to the present work.

THE CURSE AND THE BLESSING.

(Contributed.)

SCATTER'D to every wind they roam,

The seed of Abraham, Thy friend!
Call, gracious God, Thy wanderers home,
Thine outcasts to their Zion send!
How long, O Lord? How long, till they
With Gentiles share the gospel day?

True, as the fathers, so the sons,-
Stiff-necked and rebellious found;
Yet are they not Thy chosen ones,

Once heirs of Palestina's ground,—
Possessors there, by gift Divine,
Of temple, promise, rite, and sign?

And is there in those hearts a stone
Too hard, almighty Love, for Thee?
Can they be harder than our own,

Ere steep'd in mercy's crimson sea?·
Oh, if from them we differ now,
Who made us differ? Who but Thou?

Lord, is not mercy Thy delight?

Dost Thou the sinner's death enjoy? Are not souls precious in Thy sight?

Thy strange work, surely, to destroy ! We plead that mercy's boundless scope, On which Thou causest us to hope.

Have not the ages rolled away

O'er which the curse of heaven must brood? Now shed abroad the melting ray,

And be the stubborn heart subdued. Haste, Lord! the promised grace fulfil, And be the God of Israel still!

A RANSOMED CHURCH.

(Contributed.)

WE, sitting round the Saviour's board,
With bread from heaven supplied,
The rich provision would not hoard,
But with the world divide.

The world of many-coloured tribes,
The living world, can be
The only line that circumscribes
The Christian's sympathy.

But while in many a leafy glen,
On many a golden strand,
Or 'mid the haunts of polish'd men,
The needy millions stand,

Behold, a wanderer on its face,
A heir to all its pains,
Forlorn, heart-broken,-Israel's race
Heaven's blighting curse sustains.

O Thou, who didst the woe predict,

Th' opprobrium, scorn, and grief, Who dost not willingly afflict,

Come Thou to their relief;

Thy ransom'd Church sends up its cry,
Nor rest would take or give,
Till Love shall pass in mercy by,

And say to Israel, Live!

MRS. GODWIN.

MRS. GODWIN, nee ELIZABETH AYTON ETHERIDGE, is the daughter of the late Mr. W. E. Etheridge, Thorpe Hamlet, Norfolk. In 1849, she was married to Mr. Christopher Godwin. She has written many interesting sacred lyrics, some of which have appeared in different periodicals. Mr. and Mrs. Godwin reside at Clifton, Gloucestershire. The following lyrics have been contributed by Mrs. Godwin at our request.

THE CROSS.

(Contributed.)

"LORD, I would follow Thee; but must I take
The weary cross, and bear it for Thy sake?
Is there no other path, no smoother way?
Pity my weakness, Jesus! Master, say!

I have bright hopes; must they be laid aside-
My soul's ambition, and my restless pride?
But I have dearer joys; and must they fly,
Like a pale meteor in the evening sky?

Nay, spare them to me: sure 'tis death to part
With the deep love, the treasure of my heart;
Life would be dark: oh, any cross but this,
And I will follow Thee to heaven and bliss."

'Twas thus I murmur'd, thus I held my will:
I could not give, and cheerfully be still;
Binding my treasures close, I sought the way,
The narrow path to heaven and endless day.

But soon I found that I was left alone
To win my way to an immortal crown:
My hopes were darken'd; those I cast aside,
And parted quickly with my spirit's pride.