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    Here is simple truth in the simplest language , and as little indebted to versification as it is possible , and yet it was cherished through life , amidst very considerable change of mental habits and feeling—it was remembered , and it was remembered with pleasure . This is one point at which we should aim . A child ' s hymn cannot be too simple , but it should be such as he cannot outgrow ; the higher the strain of the poetry , if the imagery and language be not beyond the comprehension of the child , the better it will answer the purpose ; but beyond this mark ( beyond what a child ' s mind can receive and enjoy , though it may not yet enter into all its bearings ) let no thou ght of " storing the mind" induce us to stray . Early feeling , which has been associated with childish words , may survive and may be transferred ,

    but the disgust which has once attached to what we were compelled and hated to learn , is rarely conquered , and almost infallibly spreads . To " store the mind" with Milton and Young , at an age when the words only can be learnt , is to lay up those woids in the mind with the certainty that the passages so learnt will never be loved and enjoyed , and with a decided probability that every thing of the kind will be hated through life for their sake . The hymn of which a child says , " Must I learn that ? How much must I learn ? ' * is no hymn for a child . Some of Dr . Watts's , on the other hand , fall short of the mark ; " If we had been ducks we might dabble in mud , "

    is a nursery rhyme , not a hymn . Where then , it may be said , shall we find subjects , and how are we to avoid familiarity on the one hand , and abstruseness on the other ? We shall answer by a quotation from the " Simple Hymns : "

    " Every gentle gale that blows , Every little stream that flows Through the green and flowery vale Every flower which scents that gale , Every soft refreshing shower Sent upon the drooping flower , Every tempest rushing by , Says to man that God is nigh .

    Lofty hills with forests crovvn'd , Deserts where no tree is found , Rivers from the mountain source , Winding on their fruitful course , Ocean with its mighty waves , Rocks , and sands , and pearly caves , All that in the ocean dwell .

    Unto us His goodness tell . Every little creeping thing , livery insect on the wing , livery bird that warbling flies Freely through its native skies , Beasts that far from man abide , Those that gambol by his side , Cattle on a thousand hills , Say that God creation rills .

    He has taught , with wondrous art , Each to act his proper part ; Food and shelter how to gain , How to guard itself from pain ; Make its own existencee bright , While it serves for man ' delight ; All His creatures every hour JSpeak of Ciod and bliew hh power . "—1 * . 8 .

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    Hymns for Children . 3 J 5

• Citation
  • Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), June 2, 1830, page 375, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2585/page/15/