The Prince of Darkness grim- His rage we can endure, For lo! his doom is sure, One little word shall fell him. That word above all earthly powers- Through Him who with us sideth. Let goods and kindred go, This mortal life also; The body they may kill, God's truth abideth still, His kingdom is for ever. "PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FLOW." THE grand doxology, beginning, "Be thou, O God, exalted high," is suited to all religious occasions, to all Christian denominations, to all times, places, and conditions of men, and has been translated into all civilized tongues, and adopted by the church universal. Written more than two hundred years ago, it has become the grandest tone in the anthem of earth's voices continually rising to heaven. As England's drum-call follows the sun, so the tongues that take up this grateful ascription of praise are never silent, but incessantly encircle the earth with their melody. Thomas Ken, (Kenn,) the writer of the hymns that first contained this magnificent stanza, in the form that it is now used, was born at Berkhamstead, England, in 1637, and was educated at Oxford. He early in life consecrated himself to God, and became a prelate. He was a lover of holy music. The organists and choristers being silenced by the rigid rule of Cromwell, musical societies were formed, in one of which Ken played the lute with admirable skill. This society was accustomed to meet in the college chambers. The Morning and the Evening Hymn, which end with this doxology, were originally written for the use of the students in Winchester College, and were appended to a devotional work which he himself prepared, entitled "The Manual of Prayers." In this latter work he thus counsels the young men of the college: "Be sure to sing the Morning and Evening Hymns in your chamber, devoutly remembering that the Psalmist upon happy experience assures you that it is a good thing to tell of the loving kindness of the Lord early in the morning and of his truth in the night season." These hymns were probably at first printed on broad sheets of paper and sent to each student's room. They were added to the Manual for Prayer in 1697. The work was now entitled, "A Manual of Prayers for the Use of Scholars in Winchester College and all other devout Christians; to which are added Three Hymns, Morning, Evening, and Midnight, not in former editions, by the same author." In 1679, Ken was appointed chaplain to Mary, Princess of Orange, and in 1680 chaplain to Charles II. In the latter capacity he fearlessly did his duty, as one accountable to God alone, and not to any man. He reproved the "merry monarch" for his vices, in the plainest and most direct manner. "I must go and hear Ken tell me my faults," the king used to say good-humoredly. In 1684, Charles raised him to the see of Bath and Wells. "Before he became a bishop," says Macaulay, "he had maintained the honor of his gown by refusing, when the court was at Winchester, to let Nell Gwynn, the king's mistress, lodge at the house which he occupied as prebendary. The king had sense enough to respect so manly a spirit. Of all the prelates he liked Ken best." Charles once spoke of him as the "good little man that refused his lodgings to poor little Nell." He was the faithful spiritual adviser of Charles II. on his death-bed, and attended the Duke of Monmouth at his execution. He resisted the reëstablishment of popery under James, and was one of the famous "seven bishops" who were tried for treason and acquitted. Having sworn allegiance to James, he was too conscientious to break his oath on the ascension of William III., Prince of Orange, and was deprived of his bishopric as a non-juror at the coronation. He was now reduced to poverty, a condition not unacceptable to him, for he was not allured by the false glitter of the courts of kings. Like Fenelon, in retiring from places of splendor and power, he loved to be alone with his God, and let the world play its drama without being an actor. He was invited by Lord Viscount Weymouth to spend the remainder of his days in his mansion at Longleat, near Frome, in Somerset shire. There, enjoying the hospitality of a small suite of rooms, he lived in happy retirement for twenty years, universally respected and beloved. Queen Anne offered to restore him to the see of Bath and Wells, but he declined the position, "with grateful thanks for her majesty's gracious remembrance of him, having long since determined to remain in privacy." He died in March, 1710, and was buried in the churchyard of Frome. He had requested that six of the poorest men of the parish might carry him to his grave, and that he might be interred without pomp or ceremony. This accordingly was the manner of his burial. "The moral character of Ken," says Lord Macaulay, "when impartially reviewed, sustains a comparison with any in ecclesiastical history, and seems to approach, as near as any human infirmity permits, to the ideal of Christian perfection." KEN'S MORNING HYMN. ORIGINAL TEXT OF 1697. AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun Redeem thy misspent time that's past, |