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Copyrighted. A S.*nuslC?1877. 












Copyright, 1877, by A. S. Barnes & Co. 


kind indulgence of the reader is asked for the imperfeo 
-4- tions that may be discovered in these Memoirs. The Editor 
is a novice in work of this kind. It was undertaken by him at the 
solicitation of friends who desired, if a life was to be written, a cor 
rect and reliable narrative of the facts which, from past association, 
he could seem to give better than others, and who were willing, 
in receiving the narrative, to overlook the crudeness of its literary 

It is not expected that the work will fall into the hands of many 
outside of those in some way acquainted and in sympathy with, the 
loved friend of whom it speaks, and whose simple desire in reading 
the book will be to know him better to know all that can be known 
of the man and his work. To all such the interest in the subject 
of the memoir will lead them to overlook its faults. To all others, 
it can only be said that no claim is made for the book, except that 
it is a loving and faithful attempt to truthfully narrate what could 
be recalled from memory, and gathered from all reliable sources, of 
the life of Mr. Bliss. Much could undoubtedly have been profitably 
omitted, and no one could feel more keenly than the writer that 
much could profitably be added to make a complete picture of 
this variously-gifted, large-hearted, consecrated Christian man. 
"What is presented will seem to his dearest friends but fragments 
of glass, through which will be caught glimpses of the man they 
knew. This is all that it seems to the writer. 


But one other word of apology remains to be presented to the 
general public for the issuing of the book to them. The profits 
arising from its sale are to be devoted to the mother and such of 
the family of Mr. Bliss, other than his children, who were depend 
ent upon him for maintenance. The impression has been made 
by,<statements as to the response to Mr. Moody's appeal, that an abun 
dant provision has been realized for his family. So far as the orphan 
children are concerned, this is happily true. The children of the 
Sabbath schools have sent in, up to the present time, penny con 
tributions amounting in the aggregate to about $9,500. This 
money is in the hands of trustees for the purpose mentioned in the 
appeal, viz., the erection of a monument and the education and 
maintenance of the children. It cannot be diverted from this 

All collections, so far as known, are for the same definite pur 
pose. The estate of Mr. Bliss is in the hands of an executor, who 
is under legal responsibility to administer for the benefit solely of 
the heirs-at-law, the minor children. Whatever may be realized 
from the railroad company, from insurance, from copyright inter 
ests, must be kept and accounted for to the minor children when 
of age. It will thus be seen that while a fair provision is made for 
the boys, other objects, dear to the heart of both Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss, are left wholly unprovided for. Mr. Bliss left a will which 
stipulated that $200 a year should be paid to his mother ; but in 
probating the will it was ruled that, as he had changed this clause 
since the will was dated, and the change was without attestation, 
the original clause, which was $100 a year, was all that could be 
allowed. In addition to this mother, there were sisters and neph 
ews who were constant recipients of his assistance, and for whom 
he had plans of future aid that would have been realized to them 
had he lived. 

This statement is not made as the basis of any appeal for a con 
tinuation of contributions. No solicitations are made that the 


book should be bought as an act of charitable donation. The facts 
are stated to justify the publication of the book as giving friends 
who desire the privilege, the opportunity of creating a fund t be 
used in carrying out in some measure the plans of Mr. Bliss for 
his family. By assignment with the publishers, all copyright profits 
will be paid over to Eev. E. P. Goodwin, H. G-. Spafford and D. 
W. Whittle, as Trustees. 

Acknowledgments and thanks are hereby tendered to the friends 
who have kindly assisted in the preparation of this book, by fur 
nishing letters of Mr. Bliss and giving incidents connected with his 
life and work. 

The obligations that the writer and all friends are under to 
Messrs. John Church & Co., Mr. Bliss's publishers, and the owners 
of the copyrights upon the words and music of his songs and hymus, 
for permitting without cost the use of the words and music com 
piled in this work, and the contributions of Mr. Bliss from the 
Song Messenger, are hereby gratefully acknowledged. 

The composers, whose chapter of songs, as a memorial to their 
loved brother and companion in labor, constitutes so attractive and 
valuable a feature of the memoirs, are cordially remembered for the 
cheerful assent they have rendered to the request made for their 

That God may add His blessing, and that His children who read 
this book may be quickened in spiritual life, and that some unsaved 
one may be led to the acceptance of the Lord Jesus Christ by a word 
or sentence here read and applied by the Spirit of God, is the high 
est ambition and sincere prayer of the writer. 

CHICAGO, Feb. 19th, 1877. 


~T HAVE pleasure in giving a word of introduction to the work 
of my friends, Major Whittle and Doctor Goodwin, in presenting 
to the public the memoirs of my dear friend and brother, P. P. 
Bliss. I regret the little time at my disposal prevents my writing 
more fully concerning the man and his work. I could probably 
add nothing to the facts of his life that are here compiled, but I 
would like to tell something of how I loved and admired him. I 
believe he was raised up of God to write hymns for the Church of 
Christ in this age, as Charles Wesley was for the church in his day. 
His songs have gone around the world, and have led and will con 
tinue to lead hundreds of souls to Christ. In my estimate, he was 
the most highly honored of God, of any man of his time, as a 
writer and singer of Gospel Songs, and with all his gifts he was the 
most humble man I ever knew. I loved him as a brother, and 
shall cherish his memory, giving praise to God for the grace mani 
fested in him, while life lasts. 

BOSTON, February 19th, 1877. 




Mr. Bliss' Ancestry His Father, John Bliss His Early Days Love for 
Music First Sight of a Piano Connection with the Church Influ 
ence of a Pious Father's Example First Musical Instruction W. B. 
Bradbury Bliss' Tribute to his Memory ' 15 


Teaching in Rome Acquaintance with and Marriage to Lucy Young Her 
Character Working upon the Farm and Teaching Music Letter from 
Rev. Darius Cook Mr. Bliss in his New Home His Father's Last Days 
" Grandfather's Bible." . . 21 


Mr. Bliss' First Musical Composition Twelve Years' Song Writing Geo. 
F. Root's Recollections of him Drafted in the Army Mr. Bliss re 
moves to Chicago His Labors and his Friends in the West 30 


God's Instruments Mr. Bliss' first Meeting with Mr. Moody His first Ac 
quaintance with the Writer One of our Household Memorial by Rev. 
Dr. Goodwin Mr. Bliss' Connection with the First Congregational 
Church and Sunday School in Chicago 41 


In Evangelistic Work Mr. Moody's Appeal to Mr. Bliss The Turning 
Point An Experimental Meeting at Waukegan Bliss' Consecration 
of himself to God's Service His Faith and Self-denial Working for 
the Young An Incident His Methods of Teaching 49 




Mr. Bliss as a Composer and Author His first Sunday School Hymn " If 
Papa were only Ready " His Systematic Habits and Manner of Work 
ing The Last Hymn he Wrote The Music burned at Ashtabula 
His Facility of Expression 1 57 


The Joyful Experiences of 1876 Gospel Meetings at St. Louis Trip to 
Alabama" Not Tom Thumb "Visit to Kenesaw Mountain The In 
spiration of the Scene " Hold the Fort " and the Incident which sug 
gested it 65 


Four Days' Work at Augusta, Georgia Homeward Bound Rev. Dr. Vin 
cent's Tribute Visit to Mr. Moody's Old Home Return to Chicago 
Relations with Mr. Sankey and the Brethren in Chicago Visit to Kala- 
mazoo, Michigan Mr. Bliss' Personal Influence there Interesting 
Letters 72 


Mr. Bliss at Jackson, Michigan An Affecting Scene at the State Prison 
Return to Chicago The Ministers' Meeting at Farwell Hall The Last 
Time Mr. Bliss sang in Chicago " Are Your Windows Open Toward 
Jerusalem ? " 80 


Meetings at Peoria, Illinois Proposed Trip to England Letter from a Boy 
Convert Thanksgiving Day "Jolly Jonathan " 85 


Foreshadowings of the Separation Mr. Bliss' Last Visit to Chicago Mer 
ry Christmas at Home The Last Earthly Labors The Journey to the 
Valley of the Shadow of Death" His Works do live After Him" 
" A Voice from Heaven " 90 


Mr. Bliss' Hymns" Press Forward"" Hail, Happy Morning " Peter's 
Denial" "Lord Save Me" "Once More with Mournful Step" 



"Naught to Charges False" "The Ascension" " Bethesda " 
" There's a Light in the Valley " " Hosanna, Hosanna " " Safe with 
the Master" "The Beggar by the Wayside" " I Must Abide with 
Thee " " And yet there is Room " " Remembered " " Follow Me " 
"Look and Live" " Only Believe " "Look not upon the Wine" 
"The Spirit Tree "" Beautiful Rain" 97 


"My Savior's Charms" "Let the Lower Lights be Burning" "Jeru 
salem so Fair" "How goes the Battle V "" Only a Little Child" 
" Where He Leads we will Follow "" Waiting at the Well " " Won 
drous Love " "On what Foundation ? " " Sailing into Port " " Over 
Yonder " " Remember the Poor " " Passing Away " " God is always 
Near Me ""Man the Life-Boat " " The Temperance Ship " " Turn 
to the Right " "Only a Step to Heaven" "To Depart, which is Bet 
ter " " Praying Always " " Soon and Forever " 113 


Incidents suggesting some of Mr. Bliss' Hymns " Whosoever Will " 
" Jesus Loves Me " " Blessed are they that Do " " Free from the 
Law" " Only an Arm or- Bearer " "Pull for the Shore" "I Know 
not the Hour" "Down Life's Dark Vale we Wander" "The Light 
of the World is Jesus" "The Holy Spirit "" Wishing, Hoping, 
Knowing " " Almost Persuaded " " Hallelujah, 'Tis Done " " Good 
News" " Will you Meet me at the Fountain? " " Hallelujah ! He is 
Risen" "Seeking to Save" "At the Feet of Jesus" "The Half 
was never Told " 129 


Mr. Bliss' Second Collection of Hymns " My Prayer " " More to Follow " 
"Calling Now" "Spirit Divine" "Beautiful Song of Love" 
"Daniel's Band" "Ask, Seek, Knock" "Love One Another" 
"Fear Not" "Mourn, Pray, Praise" " Song in Scripture" "Good 
Cheer " Innocent Childhood " " Lord Jesus, Come " " Good Night 
till Then " " The Four Rulers " " To Die is Gain " 147 


Gospel Songs " Nearer to Me " " We Trust in the Lord " " How much 
Owest Thou ? " " The Three Mountains " Gospel Hymns and Sacred 
Songs "Where are the Nine?" "Where hast thou Gleaned To- 
Day ? " " No Other Name " Gospel Hymns No. 2 " In Zion's Rock 
Abiding " " I'm on the Lord's Side " " Hallelujah ! what a Savior 1 " 160 




Song Incidents Letter from Ira D. Sankey The Influence of Mr. Bliss' 
Songs for Good Gospel Hymns in China and Japan Letters from 
Missionaries Letter from Rev. Arthur T. Pierson Illustrations of 
the Power of Song 168 


Mr. Bliss' Hymns in England Letter from Rev. Henry Burton A Life 
Changed by a Hymn Singing at Nashville, Tennessee Letters from 
Ministers, Singers and Converts 179 


Mr. Bliss' Miscellaneous Poems " Fortune's Best Gift " " Farewell Old 
Year" "The Wood Bird's Song " Let us have Peace" " Aunt 
Tabitha's Trials " " The Last Bugle " " Boys Wanted"" Work and 
Pray " " There's Monny a Shlip " " Sire and Son " " For Me " 
" "Tis the Heart makes the Home " " Loving Little Lou " " The Pho 
tograph" "Room for one More" "Mr. Lordly and I" " The Tin 
Wedding "" Willie's Wooing " "John Chinaman" "A Tragical 
Tail " " When Grandmamma is Gone " " Resolution " " Bushnell" 
" Welcome " 192 


Miscellaneous Writings of Mr. Bliss A School Composition in 1859 Con 
tributions to the Song Messenger From Grave to Gay and Gay to 
Grave How should Children Sing ? Praise Meetings 208 


Mr. Bliss' Correspondence Letters to his Family His Love for them and 
his Devotion to the Gospel Work Beautiful Tribute from Florida 
"When Jesus Comes." 230 


Letters to a Christian Lady His Religious Life and Experience Letters 
to his Nephew Words of Wisdom Letters to his Co-laborer 254 


Mr. Bliss' Last Hymns Music by his Friends, Sankey, Lowry, Doane, 
McGranahan, .Root, Stebbins, Case, Palmer, Murray, Christie and 
Mrs. Scott. .... . 273 




The Disaster at Ashtabula The Newspaper Accounts The Story of an 
Eye-Witness Mr. Bliss goes back to save his Wife and is burned to 
Death 290 


In Memoriam Feeling and Glowing Tributes, in Poetry and Prose, from 
Editors, Clergymen, Singers and Friends, to the Memory of the De 
parted Song Writer 298 


The Last of Earth Memorial Services at Rome, Pennsylvania Eloquent 
Address by Rev. Dr. Goodwin, of Chicago 322 


The Memorial Services in ChicagoAddresses by Mr. Moody, Dr. Goodwin, 

and Others The Song Service at the Tabernacle 341 


Memorial Services at South Bend, St. Paul, Louisville, Nashville, Kala- 
mazoo and Peoria 349 





I BELIEVE Rev. R. Lowry 275 

MY REDEEMER Jos. McGranahan 276 




GEORGIE'S WELCOME Jas. McGranahan 280 

WISF TO WIN C. C. Case 281 

ONLY A LITTLE Wilbur A. Christie 282 


I TRUST, O LORD, TO THEE J. R. Murray 284 


ARISE, WORK AND PRAY Mrs. C. H. Scott 286 

THE GOOD NEWS H. R. Palmer 287 


HK KNOWS. . .366 




I COPY the following from a memorandum found among Mr. 
Bliss's papers, endorsed " P. P. Bliss, 1861," and containing 
the genealogy, memorial and statistics of the Bliss family, obtained 
from his father, uncles and " The Seventh-day Baptist Memorial:" 
" The earliest notice of our ancestors that we have is contained in 
the will of Governor Arnold, dated 1677, in which he gives to his 
daughter, Damaris Bliss, wife of John Bliss, a parcel of land in the 
precincts of Newport. Governor Arnold also mentions the name 
of George Bliss as one of whom he had bought lan^ and whom he 
named as one of the first purchasers of the island of Quononicut : 
Beginning, then, with John Bliss who, with his brother George 
Bliss, and, tradition says, one other brother, came from Wales with 
their widowed mother and were early settlers of Connecticut we 
have the following genealogical table, which, with one exception, 
we know to be correct : John Bliss married Damaris Arnold, 1670. 
Josiah Bliss, their son, died 1748. William Bliss, son of Josiah, 
born 1728, married Barbara Phillips, October 20th, 1750. They 
had seven sons and five daughters. The third son, John Bliss, was 
born January 17th, 1760, and was the grandfather of the writer. 
He learned the trade of a shoemaker, and on the fourth day of 
November, 17 , married Eeliance Babcock, of Dartmouth, Mass. 
In 1788, he moved to Greenfield, Saratoga County, New York, and 
purchased a farm of one hundred acres ; there being at that time 


but one log hut at Saratoga Springs, situated near High Eock 
Spring, seven miles from his house. In February, 1801, he walked 
from Greenfield to Newport, Rhode Island, for the purpose of 
submitting to the ordinance of baptism. 

" John Bliss had sixteen children. Twelve were sons, but only 
two of them survived. My father, Isaac Bliss, was one of twins. 
He, with his brother Josiah, was born April 29, 1797. He was 
married to Lydia Doolittle, June 7, 1831. They had five children : 
Phebe, born May 27, 1832 ; Eeliance, born May 14, 1834 ; Philip 
Paul, born July 9, 1838 ; Elizabeth, born May 1, 1842 ; James D., 
born July 10, 1846. Keliance died November 4, 1847 ; James D., 
February 15, 1847." 

Under date of January, 1864, in Mr. Bliss' diary is this note : 
"January. Pa Bliss died, the best man I ever knew." Mr. Bliss 
had great affection for his father, and dearly loved his memory. I 
have often heard him speak with great tenderness of his simple, 
child-like faith. " He lived in continual communion with his 
Savior; always happy, always trusting, always singing. Mother 
used sometimes to say to him, laughingly, that all his hymns com 
menced with the word ' come ; ' and I can remember many of them 
that he used to sing. There were ( Come, ye sinners, poor and 
needy ; ' ' Come on, my partners in distress ; ' ' Come, ye that love 
the Lord.' He was always a poor man, but early in the morning, 
and after the toil of the day, in the evening, sitting in the porch 
of his humble home, his voice would be heard in song, and I can 
almost hear him now, singing upon the other side, ' Come to that 
happy land, come, come away.' He was^ diligent reader of the 
Bible, and had the most implicit faith in its teachings, and a deep 
reverence for its commands. My first recollection of him is his 
daily family prayer. Devout, tender and child-like ; repeating over 
and over again, year after year, about the same words, until we all 
knew them by heart, his prayers were very real, very holy to me in 
my childhood. It was very hard for father ever to punish us chil 
dren, and when he did, he suffered more than we. He would 
talk to us with great solicitude, and when we would say we were 
sorry, and would do better, he would be full of joy, and would say, 
' That is right ; that is right.' " 

In addition to this testimony of Mr. Bliss, all the recollections 
of his sisters and neighbors go to show that he was a man of lovely 


simplicity and tenderness of nature, and of devoted piety. His 
character and example had much to do in moulding the character 
of his son. This father died at Rome, Pennsylvania, in the home 
of Philip, and was buried in the village cemetery. His wife, Lydia 
Bliss, and her two daughters survive to mourn over the loss, to 
them, of the son who had taken for many years the place of hus 
band and father, but also to rejoice that father and son, who were 
so dear to each other on earth, are reunited in Heaven. The last 
words of the dying father were, " Philip, take care of your 
mother ; " and most unselfishly was the charge fulfilled until death 
called him away, and most fitting does it seem that the writer of 
these lines should be penning them to fulfill the loving task from 
which the son is forever removed in bodily presence, but which shall 
still be performed by his memory, cherished and perpetuated in 
these pages. The work is thrice hallowed in the memory of the 
dying fathers charge, the tender associations connected with this 
dearly loved brother and friend, and the privilege of a ministry of 
love to "his mother and mine." 

Philip Paul Bliss was born in Clearfield County, Pennsylvania, 
July 9, 1838, in the usual log home occupied by the early settlers of 
the mountain and forest region of Northern Pennsylvania. In Feb 
ruary, 1844, the family removed to Kinsman, Trumbull County, 
Ohio, where they resided for three years. In 1847, they returned 
to Pennsylvania, residing in Espeyville, Crawford County. In No 
vember, 1848, they removed to Tioga County. During these years 
of his boyhood, Philip had few advantages in the way of schooling. 
Moving from place to place and in sparsely settled regions, he had 
to take such teaching as he could get. His father's singing and 
praying and reading the Scriptures, his mother's daily lessons, with 
the contact of the grand scenery around his home, the mountains, 
valleys, forests and streams of which were ever dear to him, made 
up, for the most part, the influences that were brought to bear 
upon his first ten years of life. He early developed a passion for 
music, and would sit and listen with delight to his father singing, 
when but a child, and very early sang with him. He would 
readily catch up a tune, and whistle it or play it upon some rude 
musical instrument of his own manufacture. 

Mr. Bliss has told me of the impression made upon him, when 
lie was about ten years of age, by the first piano he had seen. He 


was a large, overgrown boy, and one day, down in the village, as 
he was passing by a house, he heard music, sweeter than anything 
he had ever before listened to. The door stood open and he was 
irresistibly drawn toward the sweet sounds that came from within. 
He was barefoot, and entered unobserved and stood at the parlor 
door, listening, entranced, as a young lady played upon the piano. 
As she ceased playing, he exclaimed, with an intense desire, "0, 
lady, play some more." She looked around, surprised, and with no 
appreciation of the tender heart that had been so touched by her 
music, said, " Go out of here with your great feet," and he went 
away crushed, but with the memory of harmonies that seemed to 
him like heaven. 

In 1849, at the age of eleven years, he went away from home 
to work upon a farm. His sister says: "I remember well the 
morning he left. All of his clothing was done up in a handker 
chief and carried in his hand. When he went out of the gate, he 
threw back to us children two pennies and went on down the road 
and would not look back." 

In 1851, he had this memorandum : " Worked on farm for 
Marvin at nine dollars a month." He was then only thirteen years 
of age. The next year, he was in a lumber camp, on Pine Greek, 
as assistant cook. In 1853 he was on Dyer's Hill, in Covington, 
cutting logs. The next year, he worked in a saw-mill in Portage, 
New York. Thus five years of his life, from the age of eleven to 
sixteen, passed on the farm and in the lumber camp, in toiling for 
bread. With a great desire for education, a portion of the seasons 
during this, period was passed in school, and every opportunity that 
presented for improvement was eagerly taken advantage of. 

In 1850, while at school near Elk Run, a revival commenced 
among the scholars, conducted by a Baptist minister, and he at 
that time made his first public profession of Christ. A short time 
after, he was immersed in the creek near his own home, some four 
miles from the school, by a minister of the Christian Church, who 
was at the time holding meetings in the neighborhood. He became 
connected with the Baptist Church near the school. His own rela 
tion of his Christian experience has always been that he never had 
any marked period of conversion ; that he could never remember 
the time when he did not love the Savior when he was not sorry 
for his sins, and when he did not pray. He undoubtedly ex- 


perienced regeneration in answer to the prayers of a godly father at 
a very early age, and all through life manifested that he was a child 
of God. 

In 1855, he spent the winter in a select school at East Troy, 
Bradford County, Pennsylvania. In 1856, he worked on a farm in 
the summer and taught school in the winter, at Hartsville, Alle- 
gany County, New York. He was then but eighteen years of age, 
and his quickness of mind for learning, and his industry in the im 
provement of opportunities, are in a marked way indicated by the 
fact that he was fitted to become a teacher. It was, to be sure, a 
humble position, but still it was a position, and indicated aspiration. 
The place sought him because, in the judgment of the School 
Board, he was the man for the place. 

The following winter he passed at Towanda, Pennsylvania, and 
at Towner Hill. Here he met for the first time Mr. J. G. Towner, 
who was afterward associated with him in concerting, and received 
that winter, in Mr. Towner's singing school, his first systematic 
instruction in music. The same winter, he attended a musical 
convention at Rome, Pennsylvania. This was the first convention 
he ever attended, and it did much to strengthen his growing passion 
for music, and to develop his native talent in harmony. In the 
providence of God, the convention was in charge of W. B. Brad 
bury, then in the commencement of his life-work as a composer 
of sacred music for the children. From the time of this meeting, 
Mr. Bliss cherished a deep affection for Mr. Bradbury and a rever 
ence for the gifts God had bestowed upon him as a composer. 
How much this meeting had to do with the moulding of his future 
life, in the turning of his thoughts, almost unconsciously 'to himself, 
in the direction of a work similar to Mr. Bradbury's, we can never 
know. How appropriate now to Mr. Bliss is the song written by 
him upon the death of the lamented Bradbury : 


We love him, though his friendly hand 

Has never clasped our own ; 
His gentle voice and loving smile 

We never yet have known. 
We love the sweet, the blessed songs 

That he to us has giv'n ; 


We know lie loved us here on earth ; 
We love him though in heaven. 

CHORUS. We'll roll the chorus of praise along, 

Till " Over the River " we go ; 
He'll lead us then in more beautiful songs 
Than ever we knew below. 

We love the sparkling " Golden Chain," 

The " Shower " of beauties rare ; 
The " Censer " full of joyous praise, 

" Fresh Laurels," green and fair. 
We love to sing his songs of heaven, 

Of Jesus and His love ; 
They make us happier here below, 

And raise our thoughts above. 

We love the things that he has loved; 

We love his earthly name ; 
And when we know his angel form, 

We'll love him just the same. 
We'll love each other better then, 

We'll love " Our Father " more ; 
We'll roll a sweeter song of praise 

Along the " Golden Shore." 



IN 1858, Mr. Bliss was at Almond, New York, and in the winter 
of that year he taught in the Rome Academy at Rome, Penn 
sylvania. The previous year, his musical gift had brought him 
into an acquaintance with the family of Mr. 0. F. Young, a thrifty 
farmer and a devout Christian man, who, some thirty years be 
fore, had come into the valley to teach school, and had married 
one of his pupils, the daughter of Peter Allen, a leading citizen of 
Rome, and was now the head of a happy family, consisting of 
Grandma Allen, her daughter his wife, with their five children, 
two sons and three daughters. The whole family were singers, 
and Mr. Young being one of the School Board, Mr. Bliss was 
invited to make their house his home, and soon became as one of 
the family. He brought here his younger sister, that she might 
attend school and be with him for the winter. 

The descriptions given of Mr. Bliss by his friends, and a da 
guerreotype taken at this time, indicate that he was possessed of 
unusual personal attractions. Of large frame and finely propor 
tioned, a handsome, frank, open face, with fine, large, expressive 
eyes, and always buoyant and cheerful, full of the kindliest feeling, 
wit and good humor, with a devout Christian character, and of un 
sullied moral reputation, he became a universal favorite among 
young and old. Among his pupils were the children of Mr. Young, 
who became his most intimate friends. The eldest daughter, Lucy, 
then about eighteen years of age, was the associate and companion 
of Mr. Bliss' sister, and thus these young people were thrown much 
together. During the winter, the singing school, the spelling 
class and the choir meetings went on as is wont in the country 


Tillages of the East, and these two "kept company/' and found 
ere long that they were necessary to each other's happiness. So, 
one beautiful morning in the following spring, June 1, 1859, with 
Pa and Ma Young accompanying, they went in a very quiet way to 
the little town of Wysocks, six miles down the valley, and were 
married by the minister, in the parlor of the minister's house. 

It is a beautiful ride down the valley of the Wysocken. The 
hills rise up grandly on either side ; the brook flows rapidly by, 
its babbling and murmurings heard from the road, hidden some 
times in deep dells by overhanging trees, and gleaming in the 
light through open fields. The woods were filled with wild flowers 
and singing birds, that June morning, and the world was full 
of poetry to these two dear friends as they rode to their wedding. 
Happy in the love of God, happy in each other's love, how rich 
they were ! Of money they had absolutely none. Mr. Bliss did 
not possess at this time fifty dollars' worth of worldly goods. Mr. 
Young derived a comfortable support from his farm, but had noth 
ing wherewith to endow the young couple, beyond the warm welcome 
to the old homestead of the loved daughter and the one whom he 
had Ions: loved as a son. They came back to the home, and Mr. 
Bliss, taking off his Sunday clothes, went out to work on the farm, 
and Lucy went into the kitchen to help her mother. 

I find in his diary this mention of this event in his life : "June 
I, 1859 Married to Miss Lucy J. Young, the very lest thing I 
could have done." And looking back upon the eighteen years they 
have lived together on earth, and all they were to each other, in 
the experiences of joy and sorrow, of poverty and prosperity, that 
they passed through, no one who knew them but would acquiesce 
and recognize the providence of God in bringing them together. 
Mrs. Bliss was in many things the opposite and the complement 
of her husband. He was by nature poetical, impulsive, demon 
strative, easily moved ; she strongly practical, steady, reticent, and 
with great adherence of purpose. She was both wife and mother 
to him from the first of their union. She was of a deep nature, 
loving, tender in her affection, beyond what most who knew her 
gave her credit for. His buoyant, joyful, affectionate, warm-hearted 
demonstrativeness naturally made her more reserved manner seem 
constrained ; but all who learned to know her loved and ad 
mired her, and thanked God that Philip Bliss had such a wife. At 


the time of her marriage, she was a member of the Presbyterian 
Church in Kome, having made profession of faith in Christ at the 
age of sixteen. Mr. Bliss, about the time of his marriage, became 
connected with the same church, and labored efficiently with them 
in church work, being for some time the Superintendent of a Union 
Sunday School in the village, and is remembered by many of the 
grown-up people in this connection. 

The year after his marriage, Mr. Bliss worked upon the farm 
for his father-in-law, and received for his support thirteen dollars 
a month, the amount usually paid to farm hands. That winter he 
commenced teaching music in Bradford County, at two dollars an 
evening "and found." The year 1860 he ever reckoned as a mem 
orable one in his history. The little knowledge he had obtained 
of music made him feel deeply how little he knew, and gave him 
the most burning desire to prosecute a thorough study of the art. 
His soul was filled with that which he longed to express, but the 
future looked dark to him. He had no means and no prospect of 
being able to secure any further education. For a time he became 
burdened and depressed with these thoughts. 

In July and August of that year, a Normal Academy of Music 
was held in Geneseo, New York, under Perkins, Cook, Bassini and 
others. It was the great event of the period among the musical peo 
ple of the surrounding country. The advantages to be offered in 
training and culture were unusual, and of the utmost value to those 
desiring to cultivate music. Poor Bliss obtained the programme, and 
eagerly pored over the inducements and opportunities it offered. 
It was just what he needed. It would be such a joy to him to meet 
these masters in the art such a help to him for all the future ; 
but the expense was far beyond his means. He had not a dollar in 
the world. It was impossible for him to go. He was almost heart 
broken about it. He threw himself upon the old settee in the 
sitting-room one day, when no one but Grandma Allen was in the 
room, and he says, "I just cried for disappointment. I thought 
everything had come to an end ; that my life must be passed as a 
farm hand and country schoolmaster, and all bright hopes for the 
future must be given up." Grandma was full of sympathy, and 
wanted to know all about the trouble. After she had been told 
about the academy, she said, "Now, Phil., what does that cost ?" 
" Well, Grandma," he said, "it would take as much as thirty dol- 


lars." "Well, thirty dollars is a good deal of money," said the 
kind old lady ; " I have an old- stocking that I have been dropping 
pieces of silver in for a good many years, and I'll just see how much 
there is. Perhaps there are thirty dollars, and if there are, why, 
you can take it and go to the Normal." The stocking was brought 
out and found to contain more than the thirty dollars, and Bliss 
spent six weeks of the hardest study of his life at the Normal. 
God bless dear old Grandma Allen. The world owes her interest com 
pounded a hundred times over as long as she lives, and a grateful re 
membrance after her death, for what she did that day for P. P. Bliss. 

In the winter of 1860, Mr. Bliss formally took up the business 
of a professional music teacher. In his diary he says : " Old Fanny 
(a horse) and a twenty-dollar melodeon furnished by 0. F. Young 
set me up in the profession." The next three years were passed 
in and about Borne. He was quite successful as a teacher, and 
during the winter months had plenty of employment. In the sum 
mer he worked upon his father-in-law's farm, and again attended 
the Normal Academy in 1861, and in 1863. In 1861, he writes : 
" Summer at Geneseo, New York, T. E. Perkins, T. J. Cook and 
Pychowski, faculty this season." In 1862, there is this memoran 
dum : " Worked on farm. Did not go off to school this summer 
partly on account of my health and partly on account of my 
wealth ! Winter, Honesdale, Pennsylvania, made the acquaintance 
of I. Brundage, a good Eev. and singer." To be a good minister 
and a good singer was to occupy a large place in Mr. Bliss' affec 
tions, and he ever esteemed Mr. Brundage as a very dear friend. 
Indeed, long before he entered upon the life of an evangelist, while 
following the profession of music, he had scores of warm-hearted 
personal friends among the ministers of the Gospel. He had a 
great respect for their calling a desire to be helpful to them in 
their work, and a love for them individually, which all who came to 
know him most cordially reciprocated. From no other class of per 
sons have so many and so tender expressions of love for his memory 
and sorrow at his death been received as from the ministers. 

During these years at Kome, Mr. Bliss' pastor was Eev. Dar 
win Cook. Mr. Bliss esteemed him very highly, and ever spoke 
of him with affection. He has often said that it was Mr. Cook's 
encouraging words, more than anything else, that stimulated him 
to excel in his profession, and particularly turned his attention to the 


composition of melodies for Sunday school songs. Mr. Cook is still 
living, and. participated in the funeral exercises of Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss in Towanda, and writes as follows of his recollections of Mr. 
Bliss : 

MERRYALL, January 31, 1877. 

Dear Bro. I am sorry that I can't help you more. I went to Rome in 1850, 
and left in 1858. About 1855, I first met P. P. Bliss in the church at Rome 
He stood in the choir and sang. In our little company he could not fail to be 
observed. Therefore 1 said to Mr. O. F. Young, my chorister, " That young 
man's voice is worth a thousand dollars a year. Perhaps he does not know 
it.'' Mr. Young took him home with him to dinner, and afterward gave him 
his daughter. Mr. Bliss afterward said that remark of mine was the first 
hint lie ever received that he had any competency or any possibilities more 
than ordinary. From that time, I occasionally met him while he was holding 
singing conventions. He began to compose laughable medleys, and to sing 
money out of the pockets of the penurious. 

I well remember that on one occasion such a man gave five dollars to some 
benevolence, if Bliss would sing his medley. I heard him sing his " Little 
Willie," at a fortieth wedding anniversary, when the thought struck me, what 
a power has song to impress the Gospel. I went to him and told him the 
thought. I mentioned the remark of one who said, " Let me make the songs 
of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws." I instanced a case at hand 
then and there, in which his song, in five minutes, had effected more than eight 
years of preaching. 

He was married in June, 1859. At the tenth anniversary I met him again, 
and was greatly pleased at his evident rapid development. When Mr. Brad 
bury died, I wrote to him, that if his (Mr. Bradbury's) mantle had fallen on 
any one, he (Mr. Bliss) must be the man. After the loss of his first child, he 
wrote to me, and indeed kept me informed of his doings and progress, and when 
he and Major Whittle were in the South, he had forwarded to me a daily, 
now and then, to tell me of his work. He had not united with the church 
when 1 left Rome, in the spring of 1858, and I do not know the precise date of 
that union. 

I am thankful that I ever met that man, and that I was permitted to give 
him encouragement in the right direction. He stated publicly in a large con 
gregation " that this man had done him more good than any other man." I 
don't now recall anything very important in his religious development. We 
only met occasionally after 1858. 

His wife grew up in our Sabbath school, was strong, bright, active, promis 
ing, with a good musical talent. It was quite natural that the two should bo 
drawn together. I always esteemed her very highly. 

Yours in the Lord, 

Merryall, Bradford Co., Pennsylvania. 


In 1863, Mr. Bliss writes : "Geneseo again. Perkins, Bassini 
and Zundel. A very good term for me. Winter, taught at Cas 
tile, New York. Boarded at D, Bovee's. A pleasant winter, only 
my wife, Lou, was at home; so I was only half a man, if Jialf." 
The instructors of Mr. Bliss at these Normals all speak in the high 
est terms of his unusual intelligence and remarkable proficiency. 
Bassini, at his first Normal, selected him as his most intelligent 
pupil, and in that and succeeding years took unwonted interest in 
him, in giving him private lessons upon the use of the voice. 
Much of his remarkable power in this respect, he felt, was due to 
the careful and scientific instruction received from Bassini. With 
a quick apprehension and a thinking mind, Mr. Bliss desired to be 
intelligent in his profession, and was always wishing to be taught, 
ever ready to receive, and careful to retain instruction. He never 
felt that he himself was a master, and ever preferred to be a scholar 
rather than a teacher. 

During this period of his life at Eome, from the proceeds of 
his singing schools, he saved up a few hundred dollars, and bought 
a little cottage, to which he removed his parents, and for a time set 
up housekeeping. The dear old father, who had passed most of 
his days in humble homes in the backwoods, was now sixty-five 
years of age. The little cottage in Rome was a better home than 
he had ever lived in. Many months his children, "Phil" and 
" Lou," had planned the surprise that awaited him. They had 
saved in every possible way to buy and plainly furnish the little 
home. When all was made ready, Father Bliss was sent for. 
The day of his arrival in Rome, he stopped at Father Young's for 
dinner. In the afternoon, the happy children took the gentle, 
laughing, gray-haired old Christian in the wagon, and riding along 
the one village street, asked him to pick out the house that they 
had selected to be his home. Two or three times he essayed to 
express his choice, picking out the humblest, and each time taking 
a poorer one, until at last he gave up, a little troubled that he might 
have been too ambitious. When the happy Phil, almost too full 
to contain himself, turned the team, and driving back up the 
street, stopped at a pretty little cottage, a neat piazza in front, 
a large yard filled with blossoming lilacs and budding apple trees, 
it looked very beautiful ; and as the strong man lifted his father 
from the wagon, it was a very happy hour to him, as he said, 


"This is your home, father." The dear old man sat down in a 
chair placed for him upon the stoop, and, with tears running down 
his cheeks, said, " Phil, I never expected to have so good a home 
on earth as this." 

Here the last months of the life of the old saint passed away 
sweetly, peacefully and happily. The remembrance of these, his 
last days, were always exceedingly precious to Mr. and Mrs. Bliss. 
The burden of life in some degree rolled away, and he entered 
more into the sunlight that awaited him in fullness in the life 
beyond. "The first time I ever saw Father Bliss," Mrs. Bliss once 
told me, "he reproved me for laughing on Sunday." Brought 
up by a Puritan father, living in communion with God, drinking 
daily from the Bible, the only book he ever read, life was to him 
very solemn, and everything around him was related to God and to 
eternity. His children all felt this atmosphere in their association 
with him, and none of them drank in more of the father's sense 
of the reality of eternal things than did his son. There is a root 
and stalk for every beautiful flower that blooms, a spring for every 
flowing stream ; and all that has given power on the earth to 
Philip Bliss' songs finds its root in the Bible of the Hebrews, its 
stalk in the living characters developed by that Bible among the 
Puritans. The stream of melody that flowed through him, making 
glad the people of God, had its spring in the intense reality 
of spiritual things that came down to him from a godly an 

During these months with his children, the father laid aside 
everything of austerity that had ever associated itself with him, 
and was like a happy child. Mr. Bliss often thanked God for his 
goodness in permitting him to have the joy of making his dear 
father happy, and of being with him in his last days. In January, 
1864, after only a few months in the home he thought so much 
better than he was entitled to, the father died, and was taken to his 
Heavenly home, to meet the great surprise of knowing what "God 
hath prepared for them that love Him." There can be no more 
fitting close to this chapter than the song of Mr. Bliss, written, 
much of it, from personal recollection, and which he usually pre 
faced, in singing, by a few remarks about. his father, and by saying, 
very devoutly, "I thank God for a godly ancestry." 




The Sabbatli day sweet day of rest 

Was drawing to a close ; 
The summer breeze went murm'ring by, 

To lull me to repose : 
I took my father's Bible down 

His father's gift to him 
A treasure rare, beyond compare, 

Though soiled the page, and dim. 

" Old friend," said I, "if thou couldst tell, 

What would thy mem'ries be ? " 
And from the Book there seemed to come 

This evening reverie ; 
" Good will to men, Peace be to thee! 

My mission aye hath been, 
To tell the love of Him who died 

To save a world from sin. 

" A hundred years ago I sailed, 

With those who sail no more, 
Through perils dread ; by land and sea, 

I reached New England's shore ; 
There, on a soul- worn, faithful band 

This soothing psalm did fall : 
Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place, 

In generations all. 

' Year after year, in temples rude, 

Upon the desk I lay, 
To teach of Him, the Great High Priest ; 

The Life, the Truth, the Way. 
And multitudes who listened there 

To God's life-giving word 
Are resting from their labors, now, 

' For ever with the Lord.' 

*' Anon a lowly home I found, 

But Love and Peace were there. . . 
The children with the father read, 
And knelt with him in prayer ; 


And through the valley, as one passed, 

I heard her sweetly sing : 
O Grave, where is thy victory ? 

O Death, where is thy sting ? 

Hold fast the faith," the old Book said ; 

" Thy father's God adore. . . ; 
And on the ' Rock of Ages ' rest 

Thy soul forever more." 
"Amen," said I, " by grace I will, 

Till at His feet we fall, 
And join the everlasting song, 

And crown Him Lord of All. 



nnHE first composition of Mr. Bliss, so far as is known, was in 
J- the year 1864, while in his own house at Rome. He writes 
in his diary : "1864. Lived in Rome, Pennsylvania. Worked on 
farm some ; wrote music some ; housekeeping some ; taught in 
Nunda, Castile, etc. Saved one hundred dollars this year." Mr. 
James McGranahan, for years a musical friend of Mr. Bliss, was, 
during the summer of 1864, a clerk in the country store and post 
office of Rome. He says : " I well remember Bliss' first published 
composition. He sent the manuscript to Root & Cady, and after 
a time he received back a proof in print. He brought in the copy 
to show me and ask my opinion as to corrections. I had had one 
or two pieces printed, and knew just how he felt, and we had a 
very pleasant time over his first piece. It was a great pleasure to 
him, and yet he had a great deal of wonder that anything he had 
written was worth publishing. The name of the piece is "Lora 
Yale," copyrighted by Root & Cady in 1865, and published as 
sheet music. Before sending to Root & Cady, he had forwarded 
it to Bradbi^ry, and by him it had been refused, much to Mr. 
Bliss' disappointment^but he was encouraged by friends to send 
it to Mr. Root. 


Calmly fell the silver moonlight 

Over hill and over dale, 
As with mournful hearts we lingered 

By the couch of Lora Vale. 


She was dying, gentle Lora ; 

She was passing like a sigli 
From a world of love and beauty 

To a brighter world on high. 

CHORUS. Lora, Lora, still we love thee, 

Tho' we see thy form no more, 
And we know thou'lt come to meet us, 
When we reach the mystic shore. 

Brightly dawned the morrow's morning, 

Over hill and over dale, 
Still with mournful hearts we lingered 

By the side of Lora Vale. 
She was almost at the river. 

When the light broke from the sky, 
And she smiled and whispered faintly, 

" I am not afraid to die." 

Softly through the trellised window 

Came the west wind's gentle breath, 
But she heeded not its mildness. 

For she slept the sleep of death ; 
And beyond the silver moonbeams, 

Aye, beyond the stars of night, 
Now she dwells, our darling Lora, 

In the home of angels bright. 

This was the commencement of the exercise of his gifts as a 
composer. The style of the song will show that the conception of 
the use of song as conveying Gospel truth had not yet come to 
him. It is a song of sentiment, of a kind good in its way, but 
which it would have been impossible to have got him to write 
during the last years of life. The song became popular, and 
enjoyed a sale of several thousands. Let the reader place in con 
trast the words of this song, sweet in its sentiment, but purpose 
less in teaching, and without specific mention of Christ, and the 
words of the two latest so far as is known hymns that he ever 
wrote, found in this book, and some correct idea of his development 
can be obtained. 

From 1864 to 1876, twelve years, his pen was busy in giving 
expression to the songs that came thronging through his soul. All 
of his work was done during these years. He was twenty-six years 


old when he wrote his first song, and thirty-eight when he wrote 
his last. In the year 1863 or '64 he first met Mr. George F. Root, 
of Chicago. The acquaintance then formed became an intimate 
friendship, and was one of the links in the chain of providences that 
led him into a larger field of usefulness, and finally into the place 
God was preparing him for, of a Gospel singer. Mr. Eoot thus 
writes of his first impressions and memories of Mr. Bliss : 

My acquaintance with Mr. Bliss did not begin very early in his life, though 
it might have been near the beginning of his musical career. He had attend 
ed a term or two of a normal musical institute, had taught some, and had 
given some concerts near his home, when he wroLe his first letter to me. 
This letter contained an early perhaps his first musical composition, A 
song entitled Lora Vale. 

The song was promising, but the letter was more so, as indicating an indi 
vidual entirely out of the common run of literary or musical aspirants. I 
think this letter, with many other mementoes of Mr. Bliss that would now be 
useful, was in my office and was destroyed at the great fire of Chicago, Oct. 8 
and 9,1871; at any rate, they cannot now be found. 

We published Lora Vale, and this led to further correspondence. And our 
interest constantly increased in this many-sided " country-boy," as he called 
himself. His curious conceits, so piquant and varied, his beautiful penman 
ship, his bright nature, that could not seem to see anything unhappy or 
unbeautiful in life, attracted us strongly, and led often to letters on my part 
that were not needed for business purposes, but were for the sake of the 
answer they were sure to bring. The deeper nature of the manxlid not show 
then, but that which did appear was " pure and lovely, and of good report." 

Whether the proposition to come to Illinois was out of the whole cloth 
from us, or whether he intimated, as our correspondence progressed, that he 
would like to come, I do not remember ; but about 1863 or '64 he did come, 
and pleasant was our surprise to find that our bright and attractive letter- writer 
lived in a " house " every way worthy of him. It is rare indeed to find both 
mind and body alike so strong, healthy and beautiful in one individual as they 
were in him. He went to work, first about the State, holding musical conven 
tions and giving concerts and attending to the interests of certain parts of our 
business ; sending to us occasional communications for our musical paper and 
occasional compositions. I do not recall particulars about these compositions. 
I only know that it was my pleasure to look them over and suggest, if I 
could, improvements, or hint at faults now and then, especially in the earlier 
ones. I say my pleasure, for never had teacher so teachable and docile a sub 
ject for criticism (I can hardly say pupil, for I .never taught him regularly), 
nor one who repaid with such generous affection the small services that were 
in this way rendered to him. His modesty as well as his generosity always 
inclined him to give to others much of the credit that belonged to his own 


Heaven-sent gifts. A favorite signature in his letters to me was " Your Poor 
Pupil Bliss." 

I do not know of his modes or habits of composition, but do know of his 
wonderful fertility and facility. His responses to the calls for the many 
kinds of literary and musical work that we soon found he could do always 
surprised us as much by their promptness as by their uniform excellence. It 
is probable that with every topic that entered his inind there came trooping 
multitudes of congruous ideas, images and words, and he had only to take his 
choice ; and his choice was always happy, always appropriate and often strik 
ing in its originality and beauty. As Mr. F. W. Root, in a recent number of the 
Musical Visitor, says of Mr. Bliss : " His faculty for seizing upon the salient 
features of whatever came under his notice amounted to an unerring instinct. 
The one kernel of wheat in a bushel of chaff was the first thing he saw." 

It was lovely to see how near to all he did was his religion. There was for 
him no line on one side of which was a bright face and on the other a solemn 
one. His smile went into his religion and his religion into his smile. His 
Lord was always welcome and apparently always there in his open and loving 
heart. It was this that made his liveliness so irresistibly sweet and attractive. 
5Tou constantly felt its sphere of innocence. This hymn, by a kindred spirit, 
is a most true expression of his constant condition : 

Thy happy ones a strain begin ; 

Dost not Thou, Lord, glad souls possess ? 
Thy cheerful Spirit dwells within ; 

We feel Thee in our joyf ulness. 

Our mirth is not afraid of Thee ; 

Our life rejoices to be bright ; 
We would not from our gladness flee, 

We give full welcome to delight. 

Thou wilt not, Lord, our smiles deny ; 

Dost thou not deem them of rich worth ? 
Our cheer flows on beneath Thine eye ; 

We feel accepted in our mirth. 

We turn to Thee a smiling face, 

Thou sendest us a smile again ; 
Our joy, the richness of Thy grace, 

Thine own, the cheer of this glad strain. 

In speaking of himself in a lecture before a State Sunday School Associa 
tion, this pleasant insight occurs. After making the remark, " Let song 
develop feeling and then do not fail to use it to direct and purify affection," he 
goes on : "I well remember a loving, large-eyed lad who in the day school 
could scarcely sing the old song of 

A, B, C, D, E, F, G (' Haste thee, winter'), 


but that the tears would fall and mark the time. The lad knew not why he 
wept, but the faithful Christian teacher turned this mighty motive power to 
heavenly purposes, and gave these outflowing sympathies wholesome food. 
So the love of song grew and prevailed, so the channel of the affections 
widened, and so the lad, though taller grown, stands here to plead for song." 

In another article in his correspondence with our musical paper, he speaks 
in a characteristic way of the death of a friend who had written some poetry for 
him ; but other extracts from this article are so illustrative of his every -day 
life that we also insert them here in their order. 

He begins with speaking of a "general association of ministers," in which 
he conducted the music, thus : 

There was a deal of mighty fine talking, a few earnest prayers, but very little hearty 
singing. Why is it that so few ministers sing ? Wouldn't it improve their voices, and hearts 

But please don't put me down as fault-finding. I think Pinshine and its author had a full 
share of attention. On the other hand let me tell this. During the convention in Barling- 
ton, Iowa, a few weeks since, which, by the way, was a " real good one " though the first 
since W. B. Bradbury was there, fourteen or fifteen years ago it was my good fortune to be 
a guest of Dr. Salter, Pastor of the Congregational Church, and to hear at family worship 
such solid tunes as Duke Street, Peterdoro, St. Martin's, etc., sung by all the household, all 
singing soprano in a spirited manner, making a lasting impression on my soul. 

I don't believe ministers' and deacons' families are a whit worse than other folks, N. B. 
Ify father was never even a sexton but I do believe that every Christian family should be 
a praise-giving band, and, if possible, ' psalm-singers.' 

Since Burlington, I have sung in Waukegan and Milburn, within forty miles of Chicago, 
and the statistics show that not one-half of the children of that county (Lake) are in Sunday 
School, nor in any way ' hear the Gospel sound.' Surely there is work enough to do ! 

An event worthy to be recorded and never to be forgotten is the departure I can't say 
death of Kate Cameron. Her name was first on a list of thirty to unite with our church the 
very day she received the welcome to the Church above. 

She has written many sweet spiritual songs, but none more beautiful, I think, than 
" That City," written for The Joy, and sung at her own funeral : 

" You tell me of a city 

That is so bright and fair, 

Oh, why do not the friends I love 

Talk more of going there ? " 

Sure enough, I wonder why we don't ? 

And here again after we had suggested that he occupy a certain place 
regularly in the paper. This was among the last things before increasing 
work on his part and new business relations on ours caused a loving separation, 
after a nearly ten years' connection. 



In assuming editorial charge of this column, we make our editorial bow (wow), etc. 
The editor fondly hopes, etc. 

In our treatment of those vast and vital issues of the momentous future, we shall endeavor 
to maintain a persistent, etc. 

In view of our past editorial experience, we can confidently promise etc. 


Our old friends and acquaintances need scarcely to be told that they may expect us to pay 
o, etc., etc. 


OMAHA, Neb., July 15, 1873. 

Just five hundred miles in twenty-four hours and you'll see the center of the world ! 
No, not quite. We call it, "Away out West," but it lacks thirty miles of being the middle 
of Uncle Sam's farm ! [1 was tempted to go the thirty miles further, so I could say I'd been 
half-way across.] 

And the programmes said, " The Fifth Annual State Sunday School Convention." Though 
as to numbers and results 'twas called the beginning of things. 

''Elaborate and elegant," was the unanimous verdict on the church decorations ; " Cordial 
and complete," the welcome ; "Harmonious and helpful" all the exercises. 

The success of the music department is the subject of this article. Saml. Burns, Superin 
tendent of the M. E. S. S., of Omaha, in behalf of the Executive Committee, sent on for fifty 
copies of the book to be used, and had two or three weeks' practice: so much for preparation. 

Professor Nightingale, President of the Convention, was, as you'd know by his name, a 
musical spirit, and gave the singing its proper place and time in each session, so that music 
seemed to be one of the exercises, and not a mere pastime. So much for selection. 

Dr. J. H. Vincent, of New York, father and founder of the ^'Berean Series'" 1 and u S. School 
Journal" being the prominent speaker, aided the singing materially, not only by his kindly 
words concerning it, but by engaging heartily in it, both its chorus and quartette. So much 
for sympathy. 

Mr. F. J. Hartley, of London, Eng., also a live worker in S. S., manifested a wonderful 
interest in everything pertaining to American institutions, and complimented the style of 
our S. S. songs aucl the manner in which they are rendered, as worthy of imitation. So much 
for Christian charity. 

The Children's Mass Meeting of course was a grand success, and the speeches and songs 
" splendid ! " Among the pieces sungwere : " Hold the Fort," " Daniel's Band," " More to 
Follow," " Heaven for Me," '' Pull for the Shore," and " Remembered." (At that time re 
cently issued.) 

Something about an " Old Piano " was sung and apparently enjoyed, but some folks might 
consider " sacred" songs only appropriate, and perhaps nothing had better be said about 
41 profane " songs in such a solemn convention. (?) 

All in all, a more social convention (ice cream included) could not be imagined. And in 
the years to come, Nebraska will be a bright star in the Sunday School firmament. 

That her Sunday School singing may be as popular as the U. P. R. R., and her Christian 
charity be as broad and inviting as her blooming prairies, is the wish of 


The Joy is a good name for a singing book. Don't you think so ? The name was discov 
ered, as a great many other good things are yet to be, in the Bible. Turn to Jeremiah, 33d 
chapter and llth verse and you will find it. Though, as it may not be convenient to turn 
just now people seldom turn to look up a quotation it may be well enough to print it here. 

41 The voice of joy, and the voice of gladness ; the voice of the bridegroom, and the voice 
of the bride ; the voice of them that shall say, Praise the Lord of Hosts: for the Lord is good ; 
for His mercy endureth forever." 

Dear Bliss and dear Mrs. Bliss, I cannot think of you without a pang and 
a longing, but I know they will gradually wear away, arid nothing but joy will 
remain for our next meeting. 


The article by F. W. Root, in Church's Musical Visitor for 
January, 1877, quoted from by Mr. Geo. F. Koot, is so excellent in 
its appreciation of Mr. Bliss that it is given entire : 


I have just been looking in our charming little holiday gift-book, illustra 
ting Mr. Bliss' poem, "Hold the Fort," written upon an incident familiar to 
all, which occurred in our civil war. I consider this work an extraordinary 
combination of effects, a striking cluster of pure gems of sentiment. The first 
element in it is an appeal to love of country ; our patriotism stirs mightily 
within us as we read of the gallant struggles of our soldiers at Altoona Pass 
of their heroic endurance and final deliverance by General Sherman. Then 
we see the thrilling story idealized and glorified by being put to a spiritual use 
by the evangelist, Major Whittle. Next comes Mr. Bliss' strong, epigram 
matic poem, crystallizing the parallel drawn by his fellow-laborer, and pointing 
it with Gospel truth that it may strike home to every hearer. The pictures, 
however they be considered from a technical standpoint, stimulate the imagi 
nation to a more vivid apprehension of the allegory, and then comes the musio 
touching the whole with Promethean fire and giving it wings that it may fly 
to the uttermost parts of the earth and to the innermost recesses of the soul. 
A man must be without patriotic enthusiasm, without religious sentiment, 
and without aesthetic sensibility who can look upon this work unmoved ; and 
especially will he be affected if he mourns with us the untimely death of the 
poet-musician, who contributed such important elements to it. If ever a man 
seemed fashioned by the Divine hand for special and exalted work, that man 
was P. P. Bliss. He had a splendid physique, a handsome face, and a dignified, 
striking presence. It sometimes seemed incongruous, delightfully so, that in 
one of such great size and masculine appearance there should also appear such 
gentleness of manner, such perfect amiability, such conspicuous lack of self- 
assertion, such considerateness and deference to all, and such almost feminines 
sensitiveness. He had not had opportunities for large intellectual culture, but 
his natural mental gifts were wonderful. His faculty for seizing upon the sali 
ent features of whatever came under his notice amounted to an unerring 
instinct. The one kernel of wheat in a bushel of chaff was the first thing he 
saw. And his ability to control words and phrases so that they should realize 
a thousand odd conceits of his imagination seemed unlimited. I know that he 
sometimes met adverse criticism upon the rhymes which he threw off upon 
local subjects ; but by far the greater number of these little effusions sparkled 
with wit and appropriateness, and his shortcomings were remarkably few for 
one who was obliged to make an airy, fantastic muse conform to the circum 
scribed requirements of a monthly magazine. Examine the work which really 
enlisted his whole soul, and you will see nothing but keen discernment, rare 
taste, and great verbal facility. His Gospel hymns contain no pointless verses, 
awkward rhythms or forced rhymes, but, on the contrary, they glow with all 
that gives life to such composition. 

Mr. Bliss possessed wide human sympathies, and had a strong social instinct : 
his acquaintances immediately became his friends, as a natural consequence of 
his many-sided attractiveness. The last time I saw him for more than a passing 
moment was at his home, a beautiful little town among the hills of the Upper 
Susquehanna valley, far enough away from railroads, telegraphs, and the 
other great auxiliaries of driving care and tumultuous traffic to allow the im- 


agination to escape from tlie world. He, with his wife and little boys, together 
with a number of relatives, spent a clear sunshiny Saturday of last summer, 
surrounded by congenial friends from the neighborhood and from a distance, 
all feeling conscious of living a delightful little, pastoral, around which was 
thrown a peculiarly graceful halo of friendly intercourse. At the close of this 
golden day, just before taking our departure, four of us, including our host, 
stood out under the twining branches of the grove in which we were assem 
bled, and sang from memory the little quartette, " The Two Roses " two roses 
that were there in radiant bloom have been gathered ! after which Mr. Bliss, 
full of the glowing happiness which had been evident with him throughout 
the day, exclaimed : " 0, dear friends ; why can't you all stay over till to-mor 
row ? We would then have as good a Sunday time as we've had a Saturday 
time to-day !" Mr. Bliss' voice was always a marvel tome. He used occasion 
ally to come to my room, requesting that I would look into his vocalization 
with a view to suggestions. At first a few suggestions were made, but latterly 
I could do nothing but admire. Beginning with E flat, or even D flat below, he 
would, without apparent effort, produce a series of clarion tones, in an ascend 
ing series, until having reached the D (fourth line tenor clef) I would look to see 
him weaken and give up, as would most bass singers ; but no, on he would go, 
taking D sharp, E, F, F sharp and Q, without weakness, without throatyness, 
without a sound of straining, and without the usual apoplectic look of effort. 
I feel quite safe in saying that his chest range was from D flat below to A flat 
above, the quality being strong and agreeable throughout and one vowel as 
good as another. He would have made name and fortune on the dramatic stage 
had he chosen that profession and studied a more scientific class of music than, 
that in which he chose to work. The lavishness of natural endowment may be 
also seen in his musical compositions, though in not so high a degree. He 
never composed upon large designs, and so never expanded his natural gifts 
into any very comprehensive creative ability. But I find enough in his melo 
dies to justify myself in saying that he had the instincts of a musical composer. 
" When Jesus Comes " deserves to live by the side of the best songs of the 
church ; its intellectual side is well enough, and its emotional element is to me 
irresistible. And I venture to say that it will live, unless I am also mistaken 
in the belief that the religious progress of to-day (of which this song is an 
outgrowth) is giving deeper consideration to the things of the heart than has 
been given in any epoch known to history hitherto, or, indeed unless certain Gos 
pel singers kill the piece by a very mistaken way of rendering it. Mrs. Bliss 
was so thoroughly devoted to her husband, that her life merged in his. There 
is a melancholy satisfaction in the thought that this dire calamity did not part 
this most devoted couple. 

In 1865, Mr. Bliss writes : " Summer, concerted with J. G-. 
Towner. A pleasant singer, honest partner and lively companion. 
Made a hundred dollars in two weeks. Drafted in the United States 
Army two weeks." Mr. Bliss reported for duty at Carlisle barracks 


after being drafted, and after two weeks' service was discharged, 
it being evident that the war was at an end, and that no more men 
would be needed. 

He again writes : " About November 1st, George F. Eoot wrote 
to ask us if the 'Yankee Boys' would come West and engage 
with Eoot & Cady. The ( Yankee Boys ' very readily consented 
in consideration of a guaranteed salary and expenses paid. Came 
to Chicago, November 21st, 1865. December, 1865, ' Yankee Boys/' 
not succeeding in the concert line, tender their resignation .to Eoot 
& Cady, who gracefully accept, but propose to retain ' Mr. Bliss ' 
in their employ 'if he will stay.' Answer, he will stay. Thus 
Root & Cady very kindly disengage me from a life which is be 
coming irksome. They offer me a hundred and fifty dollars a 
month and expenses of self and wife. On settlement, our receipts 
were so small that I told Mr. Cady I would ask only a hundred 
dollars a month, which he allowed.''' At the close of 1808, the firm 
advanced his salary both for the preceding and succeeding year. 

From this time on for eight years, Mr. Bliss' occupation was 
the holding of musical conventions and the giving of concerts, 
and private instruction in music in towns through the Northwest. 
For four years his conventions were held under his arrangement 
with Eoot & Cady ; after that, by independent appointment. 
He was very popular as a musical conductor and teacher, and was 
much sought after for convention work. During the first of his 
engagement with Eoot & Cady, Mrs. Bliss was employed as clerk 
in Eoot & Cady's store, then in the Crosby Opera House Building, 
on Washington street, Chicago. This position she filled for about 
six months, and then accompanied her husband in all of his 
travels, to assist in his concerts and convention work. Every sum 
mer they would return to Eome to visit the old homestead. Dur 
ing these visits to his home, in the rest and peace he enjoyed there 
among the hills, many of Mr. Bliss' sweetest pieces were written. 
Their home, during these years, they considered as being in 
Chicago. About one-fifth of their Sundays were probably passed 
here. They boarded, for some years, with musical companions, Mr. 
and Mrs. 0. Blackman, and were always deeply attached to these 
dear friends. In February, 1868, he remained in Chicago some 
weeks, writing music for a book published by Eoot &. Cady, called 
"The Triumph." 


On December 28th of the same year, he writes : " Bought my 
gold watch a hundred and sixty dollars." At the close of this 
year, he writes in his diary : "Thus the overruling Providence has 
led me by unmistakable evidences to see and recognize His dealing 
with me all through life's journey. Truly we have much to be 
thankful for. My dear wife, my greatest earthly treasure, joins in 
the opinion that we are and ever have been highly favored of 
Heaven ; that we find our greatest enjoyment in each other's so 
ciety, when striving to make each other happy, and our highest aim 
is to be useful to ourselves and others, and to ' glorify God that we 
may enjoy Him forever.' ' 

The sentiment of gratitude that ever actuated Mr. Bliss is shown 
in these lines. His first impulse, in every good thing that came 
to him, and in all his joy and happiness, sometimes, to others, 
arising from comparatively trifling causes, was to fall on his knees 
and thank God. The sentiment of deep attachment to his wife 
that pervaded his life is also shown. They were indeed insep 
arable and fond of each other and helpful to each other, in all 
the relations of life here and hereafter, beyond the conception of 
many who bear the relation of husband and wife, even though they 
profess that the relationship is sanctified in Christ. May the 
example of these dear friends in this respect be owned of God to 
make more happy many a Christian home where they were known 
and loved, and where what is here feebly represented is known to 
be true of them. 

During 1869, Mr. Bliss wrote songs and tunes for " The Prize," 
a Sunday School book published by Root & Cady, and also wrote 
some pieces, which were published as sheet music. He held con 
ventions at Bushnell, Carthage, Randolph, Hamilton, Mason City, 
Lamoille, Delavan, Secor, Washington, Momence, Peoria and Ha 
vana, in Illinois, and in Brockton, New York thirteen conven 
tions in all, running in time from one to four weeks. While at his 
home in the summer (Rome, Pennsylvania,) he writes : "June 1, 
celebrated our tin wedding." "June 5. To Boston for the Ju 
bilee. Stopped in New York and heard Parepa at Steinway Hall ; 
also Levy, the great cornetist, Campbell, the base, and at Boston, 
Ole Bull, Arbuckle, Gilmore and Co." "June 20. To Brooklyn 
to hear H. W. Beccher preach." He closes his memorandums for 
the year with an acknowledgment of blessings received. Notes 


his settlement with Root & Cady, and mentions that he has 
"plenty of convention engagements at one hundred dollars for 
four days." He adds : " In daily contact with G. F. Root, J. R. 
Murray, Balatka, 0. Blackman, W. S. B. Mathews, D. C. C. Mil 
ler, H. R. Palmer and other good musicians." 

This brief mention of his life for one yeai will show that he was 
a busy man. He had very little idle time. He had established a 
reputation and was regarded as successful in his profession, and with 
a bright future before him as a musician. 

During this year, 1869, an event occurred in his history, that he 
regarded of the same, pivotal nature in its resuHs to him as was the 
loan of Grandma Allen, that enabled him to go to Geneseo, and the 
meeting with Mr. Root, that led to his coming west. This event 
was the meeting with and forming the acquaintance of Mr. D. L. 
Moody as narrated in the following chapter. 



IN the special manifestation of the power of the Holy Spirit in 
the Church of Christ, it has often, and perhaps usually, been 
that the instruments He may have chosen to use have a very inti 
mate connection with and relationship to each other, which it is 
permitted us to trace, and, in so doing, more fully recognize His 
presence in and with the church, and His overruling providence in 
the life of every child of God. 

In the summer of 1869, Mr. Moody was holding Gospel services 
in Wood's Museum, near the corner of Randolph and Clark streets, 
in Chicago. For half an hour preceding his theater meeting, he 
was in the habit of speaking in the open air from the steps of the 
Court House near by. Mr. Bliss has told me of this meeting as fol 
lows : " I had been nearly four years in the West, at that time, and 
had passed a good many Sundays in Chicago, returning from the 
country where I was occupied holding Musical Conventions ; but I 
had never met Moody. One Sunday evening, my wife and I went 
out for a walk, -before going to church, and passing up Clark street, 
we came upon the open-air meeting. I was at once attracted by the 
earnestness of the speaker, who, I was told, was Moody, and, wait 
ing until he closed with an earnest appeal for all to follow him to 
the theater, we decided we would go, and fell in with the crowd, 
and spent the evening in his meeting there. That night Mr. 
Moody was without his usual leader for the singing, and the music 
was rather weak. From the audience I helped what I could on 
the hymns, and attracted Moody's attention. At the close of the 
meeting, he was at the door shaking hands with all who passed out, 
and as I came to him he had my name and history in about two 


minutes, and a promise that when I was in Chicago Sunday even 
ings, I would come and help in the singing at the theater meetings. 
This was the commencement of our acquaintance. I sang at the 
theater meetings often after that, and, making longer stops in 
Chicago in connection with writing music, I was often at the noon 
meeting, and was frequently made use of by Moody in his various 

How little did either of the two men who met that night at the 
theater door realize what God was preparing them for, and the 
relation they would in future years sustain to one another in the 
work of winning souls. 

The following year, in May, 1870, I first met Mr. Bliss. I had 
heard his name mentioned by Mr. Moody, several times, as having 
sung at some of his meetings, and of his having asked Root & Cady 
"where in the world they had kept such a man for four years, that 
he hadn't become known in Chicago." Mr. C. M. Wyman (since 
deceased) was at that time in Chicago, working with Mr. Bliss in 
making songs. He, with Bliss, was an earnest Christian, and both 
came to Moody's meetings when they could. I think the first im 
pression Mr. Moody received of the power of solo singing in Gos 
pel work he obtained from these two men ; at all events, such impres 
sions as he may have had were crystalized by his use of them. He 
had a sense of personal loss in his tone, as he would say, " to think 
that such a singer as Bliss should have been around here for the 
last four years and we not known him." 

At the time mentioned, I received an invitation from my friend, 
Mr. Talcott, of Rockford, to come out and address the Winnebago 
Sunday School Convention, and, if possible, to bring a singer with 
me. I consulted Mr. Moody about a singer and was referred to 
Wyman. I called upon Wyman, and found that a previous engage 
ment would prevent his going. VYT.ile talking with him, Bliss 
came in, and, after an introduction, he was solicited by us both to 
go. He cheerfully and pleasantly consented, and met me at the 
depot the same afternoon. I was much impressed at this conven 
tion with Bliss' power as a singer, and was won toward him from 
the first as a lovable man. 

A few days after our return, Mr. T. M. Avery was asking me if 
I knew who could be obtained to take charge of the singing of the 
First Congregational Church, then about to move into their new 


building on the corner of Washington and Ann streets. I told 
him of my experience with Mr. Bliss, and the opinion Mr. Moody 
had of him, and that I should like to have him meet him. An ap 
pointment was made for a day following, and Mr. Bliss was brought 
into communication with the people of that church, with the result 
narrated by Dr. Goodwin. My residence, at the time, was only one 
block from the church, and as Mr. Bliss wished to be near his new 
field of labor, he and his wife became inmates of my family, where 
they remained until they commenced housekeeping in November 
of the same year. It was at this house, No. 43 South May street, 
that he wrote, "Hold the Fort," "I am so glad that Jesus loves 
Me," and other of his popular pieces. The memory of those days 
is very pleasant, very sacred to us. A dear old father since 
passed into glory my dear friend and Mr. and Mrs. Bliss' dear 
friend, Charles Severance, a noble, manly young man, loved by us all, 
who died the following spring, were then with us. What precious 
seasons of family worship ; what animated discussions of Bible truth 
with my father ; what interest in talking over songs and sermons. 
Sunday schools and plans of work ! How kind and tender dea.r 
Bliss was to my invalid father ! How he would cheer him in his 
joyous, hearty way, and in the singing of his favorite songs ! Plow 
welcome he always was when he came home from his conventions ; 
how sorry we always were to have him go. In all the time he was 
with us, he was always the same kind-hearted, cheerful, loving 
and lovable man. Of his Christian work at this time the following, 
contributed by Dr. Goodwin, will furnish the most complete record: 

In July, 1870, Mr. Bliss became leader of the choir of my First Congrega 
tional Church of Chicago, and a few months later, the Superintendent of the 
Sabbath school. He continued to hold both of these positions for something 
more than three years, resigning his superintendency only when he had fairly 
entered upon his work as a singing evangelist, As may be supposed, 1 saw 
liiin very often during all this period, and came to know him well ; and the 
memory of the friendship that grew up between us, and interlocked our hearts 
more and more as the fellowship of worship and work went on, is and will 
ever be a perpetual joy. His was a nature to invite confidence and to keep it 
Thoroughly frank and unsuspecting, with not a thought of policy or craft, 
intensely sympathetic and outspoken, with a heart overflowing with kindness 
of spirit, a conscience quick to hear and imperative to heed every call of duty, 
a devotion to the service of the Master that never seemed to falter or grow 
cold, he drew me to him from the first as a brother and yoke-fellow to be ex- 


eeedingly beloved and rejoiced in ; and the better I knew him the more I 
admired the unaffected simplicity and beauty of his character the more I felt 
impressed with the depth and earnestness of his piety the more I leaned 
upon and valued his cooperation. 

Few pastors, I am persuaded, are privileged to have in their choristers such 
gifted, sympathizing, efficient helpers. Too often, it is to be feared, the pulpit 
and the choir gallery are out of harmony as to the ends proposed, or the 
methods by which the ends agreed on shall be sought ; and the cases are uot 
few, nor hard to find, where in the handling of choir-leaders and those who 
abet them, the Lord's house is turned into a concert hall, the service of song 
made largely a device for filling and renting pews, and the minister compelled 
to sandwich his part in between performances that suggest anything but the 
worship of God or the salvation of men. Sometimes, indeed, he has to come 
to his duties in the pulpit after the world and the flesh and the devil have, 
through the fingers and lips of an unconverted organist and choir-leader, set 
things moving to their liking, and then turn the service over to them after the 
sermon, to be finished up as they may elect. Doubtless the devil likes that 
way of conducting Sabbath services. If he can only get people's heads full of 
waltzes, and operas, and sonatas and what-not else, before the preaching 
comes, and then have a chance to follow it up with a march or an aria of his 
own selection, the preacher's thirty minutes of Gospel will not greatly damage his 
interests. Little wonder that preaching in such circumstances saves few souls. 
It is like expecting harvest with the enemy invited to go before the toiler, sow 
ing tares, and to follow him gathering up and snatching away the seed. 

To those who knew anything of P. P. Blisa, it will not be needful to say 
that he had no sympathy with any such idea of the music of the sanctuary. 
He shared to the fullest extent my feeling, that the disposition to make the song 
and service of God's house showy and entertaining was an abomination in God's 
sight. He held, as I did, that all music in connection with worship, whether 
by instrument or voice, should be consecrated and worshipful. In his concep 
tion, he who led at the organ should be one to come to the keys fresh from his 
closet, one who should pray, as his hands swept over the manuals, that the 
power of God might, through him, constrain the people's hearts to worship in 
spirit and in truth. So he believed that all who led in the service of song 
should sing with grace in their hearts ; that the music should be strictly spirit 
ual music not selections made on grounds of taste, high musical character, 
but selections aimed at honoring God, exalting Jesus Christ, magnifying His 
Gospel music, in a word, that God's Spirit could wholly own and use to com 
fort, strengthen, and inspire God's people, and lead unsaved souls to Christ. 
Accordingly the highest devotional character marked all his selections, all his 
rehearsals, all his leadership in the Lord's house. It was his invariable cus 
tom to open his rehearsals by prayer. He often invited me to lead in that ser 
vice, and to address the choir on the subject of the singing adapted to worship ; 
and few weeks passed without his impressing the spiritual idea as the all-con 
trolling one, and one never to be forgotten by those who were to lead the 
praises of the congregation. 


As Mr. Bliss stood in the clioir gallery, partly facing the singers, during his 
leadership, there was exactly in front of him, in the center of the eastern win 
dow of the transept a large crimson cross. Many times during rehearsals he 
would point thither, saying, " I am glad we have the cross always before us. 
Let us forget everything else when we sing. Let us seek to have the people 
lose sight of us, of our efforts, our skill, and think only of Him who died there 
on, and of the peace, comfort, strength, joy He gives them that trust Him." It 
is not strange that, with such a chorister in charge, all solicitude about an- 
therns and voluntaries vanished from the preacher's mind. Whatever the 
selection, I knew it would be full of worship alike in the sentiment and the 
rendering, would prepare the way for the Word of God ; and when the sermon 
was ended, no matter what the final thought, whether admonition, encourage 
ment or appeal, I always felt sure that the chorister's heart was one with mine, 
and that I could commit the closing service to him, as I sometimes did, with 
perfect confidence that the impression sought to be produced would be deepened. 

This was preeminently true of Mr. Bliss' management of the singing in all 
gatherings for prayer. He was a royal helper here. He loved such fellowship, 
could not bear to have things drag and grow listless and stupid, as they some 
times do. His sunny, buoyant nature could not tolerate such an atmosphere, 
his warm, fresh feelings brought him at once to the rescue. He would break 
out at such times with one of his ringing songs that would go through all 
hearts like the blast of a bugle, and set everything astir. He was especially 
fond of songs that magnified the name and grace of Christ, and urged to larger 
trust and consecration and engageduess in His service. " Free from the Law," 
"More Holiness give Me," " t gave My Life for Thee," The Half was never 
Told," " Hold fast till I Come," were among his favorites, and they would 
sometimes scatter the gloom and despondency, or coldness of a meeting, as a 
sudden burst of sunshine through a thick sky puts to rout clouds and fog. In 
deed, a stupid, lifeless meeting with P. P. Bliss in it would have been a mar 
vel. All through his songs and his words of witness breathed the spirit of 
absorbing devotion. With him the coming of the Lord was a Scripture truth, 
so real and vivid that his life felt the inspiration of it in everything he said or 
did. He felt profoundly that the Bridegroom might come at any moment, and 
it was hence his intense desire to have his work done, his lamp trimmed, and 
to be ready to enter into the marriage. During the last two years while en 
gaged as an evangelist, he was rarely present in the prayer-meetings ; but 
whenever he was there, almost invariably before he spoke or sang, he gave 
expression to the feeling that possibly he might be witnessing for the last 
time. The very last evening when he met with us, he came forward near the 
close of the meeting, uttering this thought, sang as a word of counsel and en 
couragement to all young converts, a number of whom had been testifying 
during the evening, the song whose chorus is : 

Hold fast till I come, 
Hold fast till I come ; 
A bright crown awaits ; 
Hold fast till I come. 


In his Sunday school relations, he was especially happy and beloved. It is 
safe to say that no school ever had a superintendent who held larger place in 
the children's hearts than he ; and it is easy to see why. He was an enthusiastic 
lover of children. It never cost him any effort to meet children on their level, 
for he lived there. He knew a child's nature by instinct, or rather he possessed 
such a nature, and could no more help gathering about him the little four and 
five-year-olds of the infant class, and talking to them in a way that every one 
of them understood wherever he was, than a florist could help gathering roses 
and japonicas and fuchsias about him, and talking to them day by day. And the 
same of older children. The consequence was, that whenever he appeared be 
fore the school, every face brightened instantly. Every eye was intent, every 
ear eager. He never had to ring for order while he was talking ; never had any 
rough, turbulent boys whom he could not interest and control. The look of 
his eye, the sound of his voice was all-potent. The members of his school, 
young and old, felt him to be a personal friend, and so he was. He knew very 
many of them by name. He entered keenly into all their childish experi 
ences ; was always ready to listen to the unbosomings which they were eager 
to pour into his ears ; to answer their questions and give the counsel they 
sought. It was marvelous to see how completely and without effort he pos 
sessed their confidence, and how supremely he swayed them by his opinion. 
Whatever lie said was law and gospel in the fullest sense ; and wherever he 
went, as it was his delight to go, among the children's homes, especially those 
of the humbler sort, in times of sickness, his sunny presence and cheery 
words and stirring songs were better than all medicines. Patience, courage, 
hopefulness always followed bis visits ; and parents were as glad to see him 
as the children, and often as much helped by his coming. 

Mr. Bliss' ability to teach children to sing was amazing, and it was com 
pensation for a long pilgrimage to see him handle a school when training it 
musically. From the moment he named a piece, he seemed to inspire all with 
his enthusiasm. Not an eye would wander, not a face be dull. He would say 
a few pithy words, explaining the sentiment of the song, a few more, possibly, 
about the music and how to render it ; sing a strain or two alone, and then, 
after two or three repetitions, the school would inarch through and ring it out 
as if they had been familiar with it for months. It was as if he had the gift 
of infusing music into everybody. No matter how little musical culture or 
skill teachers and scholars had, no matter how out of key or out of time, they 
were naturally inclined to sing. Somehow when Mr. Bliss led, the difficulties 
and irregularities and discords seemed to disappear, and there was one grand 
thrill of feeling, one royal burst of harmony. 

The best thing about this singing was that, like that of the choir gallery, it 
was never for show. Mr. Bliss would have abominated any attempt at musical 
display, or anything simply entertaining as truly on the part of children at. 
adults. With him the Sunday school and all the departments and appliances 
of it meant salvation. He believed with his whole heart in the early conver 
sion of children. He was wont to say that he could never remember the time 
when he did not trust in Christ as his Savior and desire to serve Him. He 


felt profoundly that when Jesus said " Suffer the little children to come unto 
Me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven," He meant to 
have parents and all understand that He was the children's Savior, and that 
in their tenderest years the little ones might know renewing grace and become 
the children of the Kingdom. He greatly coveted such early trust in Christ, 
and with increasing devotion brought to bear all the agencies at his command 
to secure it. Next to the word of God, he felt the instrumentality of song to 
be most potent and used it mightily. Praying before he sang, praying while 
he sang, and exhorting all others to sing prayerfully and in the spirit, he led 
the school. Many times he would stop in the middle of a song to lift up the 
cross, emphasize the love of Jesus, and urge every heart to immediate decision 
on the Lord's side. He often did it with tears tears in his eyes and tears in 
his voice ; and time and again, as, with that wonderful pathos and sweetness 
of which he was such a master, he poured forth his soul in the affectionate 
entreaties of " Calling Now," or " Almost Persuaded," all hearts would melt 
as if touched of God, and the solemn hush that followed seemed like a moment 
of universal prayer and consecration. 

God richly blessed this dear brother's songs and labors in the school. Dur 
ing his connection with it there was rarely a communion season without some 
of its members coming forward to unite with the church ; and if the names of 
all whom he helped by word and song to accept Jesus Christ as Savior, while ho 
was Superintendent, could be called, there would rise up a great cloud of wit 
nesses. Doubtless much of the seed sowed proved like that in the parable, 
seed by the wayside, in stony ground, among thorns, and came to naught. But 
there was left, nevertheless, a generous portion that brought forth, some thirty, 
some sixty, some an hundred fold ; and the harvest among the children from 
his sowing is only begun. 

We saw but little of Mr. Bliss after he entered upon his work as an evan 
gelist, but what we did see made us all feel that more and more the spirit of 
anointing was upon him. Whenever he could, he came back for a visit to the 
old place of toil and prayer, and never wrthout stirring all our hearts by some 
word of cheer, or of incitement to larger devotion in the Master's service. 
Often he would set the blood bounding by a new song rendered as only he 
could do it ; and very likely he would follow this with a prayer, whose child 
like simplicity and earnestness and pathos revealed how intimate his commun 
ion was with God, and how he longed to be more and more used in winning 
souls. It is not too much to say that during these last years Christ was in all 
his thoughts ; as one of his later songs expresses it : 

My only song and story, 

Is Jesus died for me ; 
My only hope of glory 

The cross of Calvary. 

Would that the spirit of such a discipleship might pervade all our singers, 
our Sunday School superintendents, our teachers, our church members. Then 


there would be singing in the spirit, praying in the spirit, working in the 
spirit, and heaven would be kept jubilant over souls rescued from sin. May 
God help all who read the record of this consecrated life to enter Into the 
secret of its joy and its power to be determined not to know anything save 
Jesus Christ and Him crucified. 




DURING the winter of 1873-4, Mr. Bliss received many 
letters from Mr. Moody, then in Scotland, urging him to 
give up his business, drop everything and sing the Gospel. Similar 
letters came to the writer, urging that we should go out together 
and hold meetings. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were ready for this, if they 
could see it as the Lord's will. Mrs. Bliss' characteristic remark 
was : "I am willing that Mr. Bliss should do anything that we can 
be sure is the Lord's will, and I can trust the Lord to provide for 
us, but I don't want him to take such a step simply on Mr. Moody's 
will." There was much prayer and much hesitation on Mr. Bliss' 
part in approaching a decision upon the matter. He doubted his 
ability to be useful in the work ; doubted whether the drawing he 
felt toward it was of the Lord or his own inclinations. Mr. Moody 
continued to write. One of his sentences I remember was : "You 
have not faith. If you haven't faith of your own on this matter, start 
out on my faith. Launch out into the deep." A solemn providence 
of God that occurred at this time, and very deeply impressed both 
Mr. Bliss and myself, is linked in the chain that drew us into the 
work. In November, 1874, my Christian brother and dear personal 
friend and nearest neighbor, Mr. H. G. Spafford, received a tele 
gram from England announcing the drowning of his four dear 
children in the loss of the " Ville de Havre." His wife, who accom 
panied the children, had been rescued and sent the despatch. These 
friends were dear to Mr. Bliss and myself, and their affliction was a 
deep personal sorrow. 

Mr. Spaiford left at once for Europe, to bring home his wife, 
and while there had a conference with Mr. Moody relating to Mr. 


Bliss going with me into Gospel work. Upon his return, he urged 
the matter upon us, and his words and representations were used of 
God in bringing us both to regard it as probable that we should 
respond to the call. Shortly after this return of Mr. Spafford. and 
while we were waiting for some opening to indicate the Lord's will, 
an interview on the cars with Rev. C. M. Saunders, of Waukegan, 
Illinois, led to our arranging to go there for three or four evenings, 
as an experiment. If the Lord blessed us and souls were converted, 
we would take it as indication of His will, that He called us into the 
work. Through Mr. Saunders I am furnished with copies of the 
following letters concerning these meetings : 

ELGIN WATCH Co., CHICAGO, March 16th, 1874. 

Bliss, Cole and myself, God willing, will be with you Tuesday, Wednesday 
and Thursday evenings, next week, March 24, 25 and 26. 


CHICAGO, March, 14, 1874. 

Dear Brother Saunders : Bro. Whittle will write you that he and I are 
coming to Waukegan, Tuesday, 24th inst. I know that you and all God's 
people will pray for the Spirit's power to accompany the effort. Solicit the 
singers to come and assist me in the singing. Would like a good organ and all 
the " Sunshine " in town. * * Organ in front of congregation, if possible, 
and good light all over the room, I venture to suggest. Every time you think 
of our coining, offer a prayer that it may be purely for God's glory. Amen. 
Wife and brother unite in love to thee and thine. 

Sincerely, P. P. BLISS. 

The Tuesday evening meeting was not an encouraging one, as 
to attendance, and had no marked result, except in the very power 
ful impression upon the minds of Bliss, dear brother Cole and my 
self, that the Lord was with us. The next day it rained and we 
looked for a still smaller audience, but it was twice as large. Be 
fore the meeting closed, there were blessed indications of the work 
of the Holy Spirit upon the people. The place became very solemn, 
and as dear Bliss sang "Almost Persuaded," every word seemed 
filled with power. In different parts of the house, sinners arose as 
he sang, presenting themselves for prayer, and souls that night 
rejoiced in Christ. Our hearts were very full, and a great respon 
sibility was upon us. The next afternoon, we all three met in the 
study of the Congregational Church, where our meetings were held, 
and spent some hours in prayer. Bliss made a formal surrender of 


everything to the Lord ; gave up his musical conventions ; gave up 
his writing of secular music ; gave up everything, and in a simple 
chiJdlike, trusting prayer, placed himself, with any talent, any power 
God had given him, at the disposal of the Lord, for any use He 
could make of him in the spreading of His Gospel. Dear Cole 
united with us in this consecration. It was a wonderful afternoon. 
As I think back upon the scene in that little study, and recall 
Bliss' prayer, and the emotions that filled us all in the sense of God's 
presence, the room seems lit up in my memory with a halo of glory. 
This meeting of consecration was followed by a wonderful meeting 
in the evening. Some twenty or more accepted Christ, and a spirit 
of deep conviction was upon many souls. We returned to Chicago 
in the morning, praising God Bliss to find substitutes for his con 
ventions, and I to resign my business position. From that Wednes 
day, March 25, 1874, up to December 15, 1876, when I parted 
from Mm no more to meet on earth, I never heard Mr. Bliss express 
a r_ srec that he made this surrender, that he gave himself to God for 
Hif> work. His income from his business at this time was good and 
growing. His reputation as a composer was recognized, and he 
looked forward with his wife to soon being in a condition where he 
could settle down and be at home, giving up his convention work. 
His decision involved the giving up of income, the simple trusting 
God for all means of support, the relinquishing of all plans for ever 
settling down in a home, a lowering of his reputation in the eyes 
of many well-meaning musical friends, who recognized his ability to 
become a leader in the art, and the taking up of a laborious, self-deny 
ing calling a calling in which it is not possible for one to abide un 
less laborious and self-denying. None of these things that he gave up 
did Bliss ever speak of. He was as silent about them as the disciples 
in the Gospels, when, with their eyes on the Lord, they followed 
Him over Palestine, are silent about the boats, nets and fishes they 
left by the sea of Galilee. I think Bliss truly counted these things 
nothing compared with the joy of being a servant of Jesus Christ, 
and the gladness of being used to impart life by the Gospel to dead 
souls. On our way to Waukegan/that morning, he selected a verse 
which, said he, "let us keep as our watchword in the work." The 
verse is in Hebrews xii, 2 : " Looking unto Jesus, the Author and 
Finisher of our faith ; who, for the joy that was set before Him, 
endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right 


hand of the throne of God." Many and many a time has his cheery 
utterance of the words " Looking unto Jesus" chased away despon 
dency, and given grace and courage for the trials of the way. There 
is a strange silence on the earth to me, as the thought comes that 
I am never to hear that voice here again. May my memory of 
it ever be connected with these words, so dear to him, and may the 
thought that he is up there forever with the Lord be to us all, by 
the power of the Holy Spirit, a greater inspiration than was the 
voice so loved, so missed. 

It is not necessary that I should enter into any detailed account 
of Mr. Bliss' work while an evangelist. The memorials printed 
in this book are sufficient evidence of the acceptance of his labors to 
the church of Christ, and of his endorsement by the ministers of 
the Gospel of all evangelical denominations as one approved of 
God. In the chapters devoted to his songs will be found such inci 
dents as I can recall connected with his singing the Gospel. Tho 
towns and cities he visited in the work were as follows : In 1874 
Waukegan and Turner Junction, Illinois ; Geneva, Wisconsin ; 
Elgin, Illinois ; Whitewater, Wisconsin ; Detroit, Michigan ; Pitts 
burgh, Pennsylvania. In 1875 Chicago; Louisville and Lexington, 
Kentucky ; Nashville and Memphis, Tennessee ; St. Paul and Minne 
apolis, Minnesota ; Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In 1876 Racine and 
Madison, Wisconsin ; St. Louis, Missouri ; Mobile, Montgomery 
and Selma, Alabama ; Augusta, Georgia ; Kalamazoo and Jackson, 
Michigan ; Peoria, Illinois twenty-five in all. From all of these 
places there will be some to meet him in glory and to recognize him 
as the one through whose personal influence they were led to accept 

As memory runs back over the audiences assembled in these 
yarious places to hear him sing, and who were often moved by his 
melodies as the breath of wind moves the bending grain, now weep 
ing, now exulting, now thrilled by the Christ exalted in his song, 
I offer the fervent prayer that all who ever heard him sing on earth 
may sing -with him in Heaven ; and that any before whom these 
lines may come, whose memory, with mine, runs back to meetings 
where they were "Almost Persuaded," and almost rose as accepting 
Jesus, as he sang, but are still unsaved, may now at once decide 
and give themselves up to Christ. May all the singers whom ho 
loved and so often prayed for be ready, as he was, for the sum- 


mons home, and may they join that choir of blood-washed ones on 
high, where he and his dear wife are now singing, " Saved by the 
Blood of the Crucified One." May all the dear ministers in these 
places, who loved him and prayed with him, and for him, be 
anointed with power from on high, to win souls, laboring as those 
who know not, as he knew not, how short the time may be. 

During the last year of his life, Mr. Bliss had an increased desire 
to work for the children and young people. He conducted a daily 
meeting for them, and with most blessed results. Hundreds of 
them, I believe, have been led to Christ, intelligently and savingly, 
in his meetings. In Peoria, he expressed to me very decidedly his 
determination to work more earnestly in that direction. His ten 
derness of nature and sympathy fitted him specially for reaching the 
hearts of the young. They were drawn to him because they knew 
he loved them. 

A little incident that occurred in Peoria will illustrate his sym 
pathy for children. It was just before Christmas, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss were busy each day in,procuring presents to take home to lit 
tle Paul and George, and to Grandma, and all at home. One day 
Bliss was on the street and noticed, as he was passing, a little girl, 
poorly clad, standing in front of a toy-store window, gazing intently 
and longingly at the dolls displayed in large numbers and in a pretty 
arrangement from large to small, in the window. He stopped at 
once, and kindly and earnestly said, "Now just pick out the one 
that you want, and you shall have it. I will go in and buy it for 
you." He would have been delighted to do so, he said had already 
done it in his own mind but the child looked around at him with a 
painful expression of distrust and unbelief, and, gathering her shawl 
over her head, hurried away, not heeding his repeated assurances 
that she could have a doll if she wanted it. " That is just the way 
sinners treat Christ," said he, as he told me about it. " I was real 
grieved that the little one wouldn't let me do for her what I wanted 
to, and that she distrusted me, when I just wished with all my heart 
to make her happy. I think I understand a little better how the 
Lord feels at our unbelief of His precious promises." 

I wish all the dear young people and children who have ever 
attended Mr. Bliss' meetings to know how sincere and tender an 
interest he had in their welfare. He very much prized the testi 
monies of the children given to him on cards, or in little notes, and 


many of them are filed away among his papers. He had a faculty 
for interesting the children in the Scriptures, and secured their 
participation in the meetings by giving out texts and asking each to 
bring a verse upon the text and recite it. "Love," "Peace," 
" Grace," " Faith," "Believe," "Heaven," and other texts were 
used by him. Of course the singing was made a specialty of in his 
meetings. He sang a great deal with the children, and some for 
them. He always secured their attention to the sentiment of the 
hymns and the truth taught in them, before singing, and would 
have them pray with him for God to bless the singing. The sing 
ing was thus taken up out of the place of mere entertainment too 
often assigned it in meetings, and was made a spiritual power in 
worship and in preaching the Gospel. When he prayed, he usually 
had the children follow him audibly. After singing and prayer, 
he would have the texts repeated, and request that any who wished 
to confess Christ as their Savior should do so, after they had re 
peated their verse. Many a grown person has been led in this 
manner, in his meetings (for as many adults attended them as chil 
dren), to overcome their timidity, and to know the joy that cornes 
from obeying the word in Komans x, 10, by " confessing with the 
mouth the Lord Jesus." After recitation of texts and singing, he 
would give them a ten minute lesson from the word. The follow 
ing are some of his outlines for these lessons : 


Matt, xv, 10. "Hear." 

Matt, xvii, 5. " Hear Him' 

Mark iv, 24. "What." 

Luke viii, 18. " Now." 

John xv, 20. Remember. 

Matt, vii, 12. Do. 

John ii, 5. Do it. 

John xv, 14. Do. 


" The man who loved music." 

" The broken arm." 

" Two girls who ' loved/ " 


Gen. vii, 1. Come ihou. 

Isaiah i, 18. Come now. 

Matt, xi, 28. Come unto me. 

Rev. xxii, 20. Come, Lord Jesus. 


Upon the blackboard he would have 

C /\ M Come. 

H I 1 M I ^ Home. 

L V ./ V . Love. 

"1 AM." 

John viii, 12. Liglit. 
John x, 9. Door. 
John xi, 11. Good Shepherd. 


" Know Him." 
"Mr. Homer Book." 
" Mute speaking Father." 
" Sick boy told to eat." 

2 Cor. iv, 14. For your sakes. 
2 Cor. v, 17. Are become new. 

2 Cor. v, 18. Are of God. 

2 Cor. vi, 4. Approving ourselves. 
2 Cor. vi, 10. Possessing all things. 

These are given as illustrating his preparation for his meetings, 
and his method of using the Scriptures. I have wished to give 
them, and to briefly sketch his manner of conducting meetings, for 
the benefit others may derive as to methods of interesting the chil 
dren in religious services, and also to have Mr. Bliss remembered as 
something more than a singer, in the evangelical work in which he 
was engaged. He was much used of God in preaching the word 
in the manner above set forth, as well as in singing. The services 
he has conducted alone in various parts of the country, which he 
used to call "praise meetings," have been much blessed, and were 
abundant evidence of his ability for the general work of an evan 
gelist. It would be an injustice to his memory fco think of him as 
a singer only, and to consider that the part he has borne in the 
work which has been owned of God was simply that of singing. 
"We pray to the Lord of the harvest to raise up the singer to take 
his place in singing the Gospel ; but shall we ever have again singer, 
poet, composer, preacher, all combined in one of like character 
with Philip Bliss ? If necessary for the church, yes. By the 


grace of God lie was what he was. But it seems to many of us 
that "take him for all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like 
again." He has been given to us to show how beautiful the gifts 
of God may become when shining out through a Christian life, 
from a soul consecrated by the bldod of Christ, and sanctified by 
the indwelling of the Spirit of God. 



r I THOUSANDS of people who never saw Mr. Bliss feel that they 
JL knew and loved him through his hymns. To them and to 
the generation to come, the principal interest in his life will center 
around these productions of his pen. It is proposed to collect in 
this and following chapters such facts in regard to the composition 
and use of the best known and most widely used of his songs as will 
be of interest to the world. 

The first song Mr. Bliss wrote, that was used in Sunday schools 
or Gospel meetings, is the piece found in Gospel Songs, entitled "If 
Papa were only Ready." He caught the song from reading in a re 
ligious paper of a little boy dying and telling his father, just before 
death came to take him away, that he was afraid "he would not 
come to heaven because he couldn't leave the store." He wrote the 
words and music in May, 1867, at Borne, Pennsylvania, and sent it 
on to Mr. Root, who was much pleased with it and caused its imme 
diate publication. The following are the words : 


I should like to die, said Willie, if my papa could die too, 

But he says he isn't ready, 'cause he has so much to do ; 

And my little sister Nellie says that I must surely die, 

And that she and mamma then she stopp'd, because it made me cry. 

But she told me, I remember, once while sitting on her knee, 
That the angels never weary, watching over her and me ; 
And that if we're good (and mamma told me just the same before), 
They will let us into heaven when they see us at the door. 


There I know I shall be happy, and will always want to stay ; 
I shall love to hear the singing, I shall love the endless day ; 
I shall love to look at Jesus, I shall love Him more and more, 
And I'll gather water-lilies for the angel at the door. 

There will be none but the holy I shall know no more of sin ; 
Though I'll see mamma and Nellie, for I know he'll let them in, 
But I'll have to tell the angel, when I meet him at the door, 
That he must excuse my papa, 'cause he couldn't leave the store. 

Nellie says, that may be I shall very soon be called away ; 
If papa were only ready, I should like to go to-day ; 
But if I should go before him to that world of light and joy, 
Then I guess he'd want to come to Heaven to see his little boy. 

The books of songs by Mr. Bliss are as follows : "The Charm, " 

1871 ; " The Song Tree," a collection of parlor and concert music, 

1872 ; " The Sunshine," for Sunday Schools, 1873 ; " The Joy," 
for conventions and for church choir music, 1873; "Gospel 
Songs," for Gospel meetings and Sunday Schools, 1874. 

All of these books are copyrighted by John Church & Co., and 
it is by their permission that the selections of Mr. Bliss' poetry, 
given herewith, are taken, for the most part, from these books. 
In addition to these publications, in 1875 he compiled, and in con 
nection with Mr. Sankey edited, " Gospel Hymns and Sacred Songs," 
and in 1876, his last work was the preparation of the book known as 
Gospel Hymns No 2, Mr. Sankey being associated with him as 
editor. These last two books are published by John Church & Co. 
and Biglow & Main jointly the work of Mr. Bliss in them, under 
the copyright of John Church & Co. Very many pieces of Mr. 
Bliss' appear in the books of Geo. F. Boot and H. K. Palmer, and 
many were published in sheet music form. A large number of his 
popular pieces were published in " The Prize," a book of Sunday 
School songs, edited by eo. F. Root, in 1870. 

From the above it will be seen that he was an industrious 
worker. From 1870 to 1876, six years, his pen was very busy. The 
above seven books, forty or fifty songs in sheet form, many pieces 
in books of others in exchange for what they had furnished him, 
with much miscellaneous writing as contributor to a musical journal, 
and in other directions, and all this in connection with his conven 
tion, choir and Sunday school work up to 1874, and from that 


time constantly in evangelistic work, make us marvel that he found 
time to do so much. It can only be explained by an admission 
of his wonderful gifts, that made his song writing not so much a 
matter of labor as a delight an outflow of melody that must find 
expression, and a careful and laborious training of fit methods of 
expression of words and harmony for the melody with which his 
soul was filled. He was a very systematic and orderly man in all 
of his surroundings. Scrupulously neat in person and apparel, 
and with the sensitiveness of a woman in matters of taste, and 
a shrinking from all suggestion of vulgarity in anything in him 
or around him, his study or place of work, wherever he might 
be, partook of the nature of the man. His books and papers 
were in order, his desk or table usually clear, and his work 
prosecuted in a business-like manner. It pained him to have things 
in a "helter skelter" way about him. A misspelled word in a 
letter, or the wrong pronunciation of a word in an address, was to 
him like a note out of harmony in music. His penmanship was 
very neat, and his letters and manuscripts, as completed by him, are 
without blots or erasures. He never liked to write a letter with a 
pencil, and would always copy over a piece of music if possible, 
rather than to send it to his publishers with erasures. And yet 
none of his friends will remember him as being one known as a pre 
cise man, in a manner to' make others feel preciseness in his com 
pany. His joyous nature, and happy and good humored way of 
noticing others' defects, and of carrying out his rules, kept away any 
uncomfortable feeling on the part of any one associated or brought 
in contact with him. His tenderness was such he would not have 
injured the feelings of a child for worlds. 

Mr. Bliss' best songs were never studied themes connected with 
the Sunday school lessons of those years. They were studied pieces, 
and, he himself often said, were not a success. They did not have 
inspiration in them. He could not sit down at any time, and upon 
a given theme write a given song that would be a success. Some 
times a melody would come to him, and he would work it out and 
write it down and wait for words. Sometimes the lines for a chorus 
would be the first suggestion of a hymn. Sometimes the last verse 
of a hymn would form in his mind and would be written down, and 
hymn and tune be worked up from it. More often the whole hymn, 
in theme, structure of words, chorus and tune, would be born at 


once, and all written out together. This, he has told me, was true 
of the hymns that have been most sung. " Hold the Fort/' 
" Down Life's dark Vale we Wander," " More to Follow," " Jesus 
Loves Me," " Windows open toward Jerusalem," were written in 
this manner. His own soul was full and was thrilled with the 
themes that took possession of him. My most vivid recollections 
of him will always be of his entire self abandonment of joy in the 
consciousness of being used of God in bringing out in song some 
precious Gospel truth, some exalting view of Christ. He has come 
to me often with the theme of a hymn, and with his face shining 
and eyes moist, explained his plan and purpose as in his mind, and 
asked me to thank God and pray with him that God might bless the 
song. He never felt that the songs originated with him. They 
seemed to him to come through him from God. As he grew in the 
knowledge of God's word, he would marvel at the truth he had 
expressed in his songs without knowing it. At the time of writing 
" Hold the Fort," he had no clear views as to the testimony of the 
Scriptures, that the attitude of the Christian should always be the 
daily expectation and desire of the personal return of Jesus Christ. 
When this truth came in power into his soul, he recognized the 
purpose of God in his writing the hymn, and that its use by the 
church all around the world was on account of its harmony with 
the word of God, upon a truth intended to arouse Christians. 

After his consecration to Christ for His service in saving souls. 
Mr. Bliss' experience crystalized more and more into an appre 
hension of a personal Savior. Christ risen Christ ever present 
with us Jesus, the real, living, personal Jesus of the Gospels, 
came closer and closer to him. His communion with Christ was 
uninterrupted. And his songs in these days abounded with Christ. 
The last year of his life, nearly all the songs he wrote contain the 
three themes of Gospel testimony, Christ died for our sins, He 
lives for our justification, He is coming again in a glory which we 
are to share. He did not plan these hymns with any purpose to 
teach these truths, and was surprised himself when his attention 
was called to the fact of the uniformity of their testimony in these 
directions. He simply wrote of what filled his own heart and had 
come to his own soul. " The Half was never Told," " No other 
Name is Given," " Hallelujah ! what a Savior," " Are your Win 
dows open toward Jerusalem ?" "Hallelujah ! Ho is Risen," "At 


the Feet of Jesus," "Hallelujah! 'tis Done," all of which ap 
pear in Gospel Hymns No 2, are examples of the truth of this state 
ment. It is also very suggestive to notice the character of teaching, 
in words furnished by other authors with music written by him, 
that appear in this same work. I am sure that he did not contem 
plate any test of this kind in making his selections from scores of 
manuscript songs that were monthly sent to him ; he simply set 
music to the words that inspired music in his soul. I do not think 
he ever exchanged a word with any one as to any distinctive char 
acter of teaching in the songs selected ; but all these words that he 
selected convey the same leading truths. " Look away to Jesus," 
" Hold fast till I Come," " Out of the Ark," " Till He come," " It 
is well with My Soul," etc., are examples. Mr. Bliss' songs can 
only be understood and appreciated by an understanding of the 
reality to him of the truths they convey, as connected with a per 
sonal Christ. The words he sang so grandly 

Christ Jesus is my all in all, 
My comfort and my love, 
My life below, and He shall be 
My joy and crown above 

just filled his soul. I believe he had no more thought, in sing 
ing them, of doing anything for the entertainment of people, or to 
excite admiration, than the meadow lark mounting to heaven, sing 
ing as it soars. He sang from an overflowing heart to the praise of 
his Savior. The last words that I know of his writing were the 
two pieces, "My Eedeemer," and "I've passed the Cross of Cal 
vary." Nothing that he ever wrote made him more happy. I can 
see him now, as he came into my room at Peoria and stood by my 
table, with the words of the latter piece written in pencil, and I 
can hear his earnest voice as he read the verses and called my atten 
tion to the "empty tomb" and the "vantage ground ; " and the 
tears filled his eyes as he stood for a moment and spoke of the risen 
Christ, the acceptance we have in Him, and the victory over sin and 
over the flesh that faith in such acceptance gives the believer. 
Now he said, " If the Lord will give me a tune for this, I believe it 
will be used to bring some souls on to the mountain." The Lord 
gave him a tune during the last week of his life at Rome. He sang 
it to the family with inspiring effect, but the written music then 


used was burned at Ashtabula. It was one of a few pieces that he 
placed in his satchel, to look over during his journey. The family 
are all musicians, but cannot recall the melody that inspired 
them that evening, and we shall not hear it as he sang it until we 
stand with him in the rapidly-hastening- on resurrection morning, 
and know, with him, the fullness of Christ's resurrection power. 
I think that then, among the voices of the redeemed, we shall dis 
tinguish his, and hush our praises for a moment to listen to the 
tune the Lord had given him as he sings 

Oh, glorious height of vantage ground, 
Oh, blest victorious hour ! 

God grant to all who read a part in that first resurrection. 

In writing, Mr. Bliss had a marvelous command of words and 
facility in selecting the very happiest phrases to express his thought. 
A favorite entertainment with him was to have a word selected, and 
each of the party present make as many words as possible from the 
letters contained in the word chosen. After each had written out 
all the words he could conjure, and lists were compared, it would al 
ways be found that he had two or three words the most. He loved 
to make adjectives and alliterations of words, commencing with 
the same letter, as in the lines, 

" Earth's fairest floicers will droop and die. 
Life's dearest joys flit fleetest by." 

He had all the gifts of a natural poet in instinct and imagina 
tion, and the faculty of expressing his thoughts in fitting musical 
words and sentences. There was a charm in the nicely balanced, 
sensitive criticism which he would in a deprecating way give upon 
verses submitted him for criticism, or which he himself had written, 
that is very pleasant to recall. 

The pieces that contain most of the true genius of poetry, in the 
latest edition of Gospel Hymns, as viewed by those of critical taste, 
would probably be the hymn "Eternity," by Miss Ellen Gates, and 
" Arise and Shine," by Miss Mary Lathbury ; and no words that he 
ever set to music ever so inspired Mr. Bliss, or so satisfied his po 
etic instincts. He could not read or sing the words without enthu 
siasm. Indeed, the music he wrote for them shows how keenly in 
sympathy with the words he must have been. Never did music 


more aptly express the heart that beats, in living words, than the 
inspiring melody of "Arise and Shine," and the sweet, solemn 
strains of " Eternity," as completed by him. 

It is not claimed for Mr. Bliss that the works he leaves behind 
him would give him a reputation as a great poet. He was very far 
from classing himself in the list of poets at all. But it is claimed 
that he possessed the true poetic genius in a far more than ordinary 
degree, and that, had his life been spared, he would have given ex 
pression to poetry equal to the very best of our sacred hymns. There 
will be many who will claim this for some of the pieces that he has 
left behind him. Let the hymns speak for themselves, and may his 
prayer be answered, that the gifts, the style and the person of the 
author be lost sight of in the theme they present. 

It has been stated that Mrs. Bliss wrote several hymns which were 
published in Mr. Bliss' books under the name of "Paulina." This 
is a mistake. Sd far as is known, Mrs. Bliss never wrote any hymns 
or songs. Two pieces of very popular music were suggested by her 
to Mr. Bliss, and were written out by him and published as her com 
positions. One of them was "I will Love Jesus ; " the other, " Eock 
of Ages." Both melodies are very beautiful, and were Mrs. Bliss' 
suggestion. The words, " I will Love Jesus," were written by Mrs. 
Dr. Griswold, of Chicago, for many years a friend of Mr. Bliss, and 
the writer of many popular hymns set to music by Mr. Bliss, George 
F. Root, and other composers. Her nom de plume has always been 
" Paulina." The above and three other pieces written by Mrs. Gris 
wold, viz., "We're going Home To-morrow," "Hold Fast till I 
Come," "Who is on the Lord's Side ?" with music by Mr. Bliss, 
appear in Gospel Hymns. The name "Paulina" was associated 
with Mrs. Bliss in the Memorial Services held in Chicago, and the 
impression there given that she was the writer of the hymns 
credited to that name. 

Several pieces known as Mr. Bliss', and made popular by his 
music, will be missed from this collection. They are omitted because 
the words were not written by him. Several of them were changed 
by him to adapt them to the music. Many of them have an entire 
verse or words for chorus added by Mr. Bliss ; but no pieces, so far 
as could be known, have been printed in his memoirs, except those 
of which he was the sole author. Among popular pieces known as 



Bliss' hymns, the following, with the names of the authors of the 
words, are given : 

"Only Remembered," 

" What hast Thou done for Me ? " 

" I bring My Sins to Thee," 

" What shall the Harvest be ? " 

" Look Away to Jesus," 

" Precious Promise," 

" Crown of Rejoicing," 

" Eternity," 

" Arise and Shine," 

" Waiting and Watching for Me," 

" Till He Come," 

" The New Song," 

" It is well with my Soul," 

"Go bury thy Sorrow," 

"He Knows," 

Dr. H. Bonar. 

Miss Frances Havergal. 

Miss Frances Havergal. 

Mrs. Emily L. Oakey. 

Rev. Henry Burton. 

Nathaniel Niles. 

Rev. J. B. Atchinson. 

Ellen H. Gates. 

Mary A. Lathbury. 


Rev. E. H. Bickersteth. 

Rev. A. T. Pierson. 

H. G. Spafford. 


Alice Carey. 

The latter piece was found in manuscript, set to music, among 
Mr. Bliss' papers, and was supposed, by friends, to have been 
written by him, and has been so spoken of. It was certainly among 
the last pieces that he set to music, and the thoughts it expresses, so 
appropriate to what awaited him, were vividly upon his mind in 
changing the words and arranging the music during his last days. 
It can thus truly be regarded as his last song. But the sweet poem 
he used was from the pen of the gifted Alice Carey. All of these 
corrections and the giving of credit to whom it is due are so in ac 
cordance with the spirit of Mr. Bliss, that the writer takes pleasure 
in making these remarks. 



IN writing of the last days of Mr. Bliss, his own words near the 
close of 1876 are recalled, and naturally introduce what comes 
to the mind, and lead to a brief resume of the work of the whole of 
the last year of his life. He counted it a year of special mercy and 
blessing. He had been permitted to carry out his plans as to places 
he would like to visit, and as to songs he would like to publish, and 
had had his prayers answered in the conversion of friends, and 
deeper spiritual experience for himself and others. The reader can 
but notice, as he foll'ows him through the year, that, by the mercy 
of God, his work rounded out to completion, and it was a year 
passed very much as , he would have liked to have had it, had he 
known that upon the very last day of the year his friends would 
have been searching for his body, and that his work on earth was 
to end with 1876. 

In January of that year, Mr. Bliss was at Racine and Madison, 
Wisconsin, and was much blessed and very happy in Gospel work. 
Christians were much revived, and many unsaved in both places 
were led to Christ. In the latter place he became much attached to 
Rev. Mr. Bright, pastor of the Baptist Church, who, a few months 
later, fell dead in his pulpit from disease of the heart. Mr. Bliss 
was much impressed by the news of his sudden death, and expressed 
himself as wishing just such a departure. 

In the latter part of January, Mr. Bliss went to St. Louis, where 
he remained until March, singing in the Gospel meetings held in 
the Rink, and holding a service of his own for the young people in 
Dr. Ganse's (Presbyterian) Church, which was largely attended, and 
will be long remembered by scores of the young people in St. Louis. 


He sang the Gospel Hymns in the Jail and Reform Schools and in near 
ly all the reformatory institutions, while there. In March, he went 
to Mobile, Alabama, to fill an appointment fora Gospel meeting. 
The route chosen was by rail to Vicksburg, Mississippi, and from 
thence by steamer to New Orleans, and by rail from there to Mobile. 
Mrs. Bliss accompanied him, and the trip was a great source of pleas 
ure to them both. The new section of country, the scenes of inter 
est connected with the war, the rapid entering into spring, as they 
traveled south, all conspired to make the journey a delightful one. 
In the evening upon the steamboat, Mr. Bliss entertained the pas 
sengers for half an hour or more in singing at the piano ; and at the 
close, when Captain and all who could come in to the cabin were 
collected, he would sing a familiar hymn, and then very pleasantly 
propose and lead in worship. The visit to Mobile was a delightful 
one. The pastors, the Mayor (an excellent Christian man), and 
Christian people generally, manifested the utmost cordiality and 
kindness, and did all in their power to make the visit a happy one, 
and the meetings a success. God was pleased to add His blessing 
upon the efforts put forth, and many were impressed by Gospel 
truth, and many were led to confess Christ. The meetings of Mr. 
Bliss for young people, held in the Baptist church, were much 
blessed. The church was crowded each afternoon, and very many 
were led to the Savior by his preaching of Christ in song, in Bible 
instruction, and personal appeal. 

Never did his singing seem more effective than in one of the 
meetings held in this city, on Sunday evening, in the Opera House. 
The audience was composed entirely of men, and crowded every 
part of the house. He sang as solos, " Pull for the Shore," " Noth 
ing but Leaves," "What shall the Harvest Be ?" and "Memories 
of Childhood," with great power. A solemnity came over all who 
listened as his deep, sweet voice took up the mournful cadence, 
"Nothing but Leaves," and when he sang the "Trundle Bed," 
there was hardly a dry eye in the audience. Nearly two hundred 
men sought an interest in the prayers of Christians, that they might 
be saved. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were very happy in the work in 
Mobile, and cherished pleasant memories of the friends there. 

After ten days in Mobile, Mr. Bliss went to Montgomery, and 
Bang in the meetings held in the City Hall. Great interest was at 
once manifested, and the meetings were largely attended. The 


pastors and people here, as afc Mobile, were most hospitable and 
cordial in the welcome extended to their Northern brethren. 
Here, as in Mobile, special pains were taken to hold services for the 
colored people, and arrangements made for their attending the gen 
eral meetings. Mr. Bliss' singing was greatly enjoyed by the col 
ored people, and he in turn was much moved by their wild and 
plaintive melodies. When he had been singing the song of his com 
posing, " Father, I'm Tired," they would be broken down in uncon 
trollable emotion. His labors at Montgomery were owned of God, 
and closed in a meeting participated in by all the pastors, and 
where scores of souls confessed to a hope in Christ. 

From Montgomery Mr. Bliss went to Selma, having as fellow- 
passengers General Tom Thumb and family. Upon arriving at 
Selma, a crowd was found gathered at the depot to see the General. 
Mr. Bliss found it difficult to get off the steps of the car, and while 
standing for a moment before the staring crowd, said solemnly : 
"Gentlemen, you are mistaken, I am not Tom Thumb." The 
people with a hearty laugh made way for him. Selma has become 
well known in Christian circles throughout the country, for the con 
secrated activity of a band of Christian laymen, who, under the in 
spiration of Hall and Cree, some five years ago, organized there the 
first Young Men's Christian Association of Alabama. These dear 
brethren made Christian work in their city a delight to their visit 
ors. Their hearts and homes were wide open their enthusiasm 
and zeal in the work unbounded. An immense cotton warehouse 
was cleaned up and seated for the meetings ; ladies and gentlemen 
from the church choirs came in to supply a fine chorus ; the sainted 
Rev. Alfred Morrison taken to heaven just a little before Mr. 
Bliss and all the pastors, gave a hearty support to the effort, and 
a blessed work was enjoyed. Here, as in Montgomery and Mobile, 
Mr. Bliss conducted young people's meetings, with precious fruit 
for Christ. 

Mrs. Bliss returned to Chicago from Selma, to arrange for clos 
ing up their house for a summer's removal to Rome, leaving Mr. 
Bliss to fill an appointment at Augusta, Georgia. The trip to 
Augusta was made via the Selma and Dalton Railroad through 
Rome, Georgia, and from thence to Atlanta, to give Mr. Bliss ail 
opportunity to visit Kenesaw Mountain, where occurred the inci 
dent that gave rise to the song, " Hold the Fort." He stopped at 


Marietta on a beautiful April morning, and, after dinner with the 
writer, rode out two miles to the mountain. The carriage left us 
about three-fourths of a mile from the summit, and we pursued our 
journey on foot. The violets were just in blossom, and we paused 
frequently to stoop and gather them, or to cut canes from the young 
hickory trees, by the side of the path. Upon the summit, the ruina 
of the earthwork near which General Polk was killed, and part of the 
framework of the signal station from which Sherman had the mes 
sage signaled to " hold the fort," were found. 

It was a bright, clear, sunny day, and the landscape for miles 
in every direction was before our view from this remarkable eleva 
tion. Altoona Mountain, where the fort was held, could be plainly 
seen twenty miles to the north ; and the intervening valley across 
which Sherman hurried his troops was at our feet. 

Bliss enjoyed the scene to the full. He took in all of its beauty 
and all of its inspiration. We read the passage concerning the com 
ing of our Lord from heaven knelt in prayer and consecration 
and then sang " Hold the Fort," looking out upon the distant 
mountain, looking up to the clear blue sky, and hoping and almost 
expecting that Jesus might then appear, so near He seemed to us 
that April day. I thank my Heavenly Father that I was led to so 
urge my friend and brother to make that mountain visit. He 
reckoned it, while he lived, as one of his blessed days, and the mem 
ory of it to me is, and will continue to be while life lasts, a transfig 
uration scene. How little did we think that day, that ere the year 
should close, for him the battle would be won, and he be taken to 
the mountains of glory, to signal for his Lord to the soldiers in the 
valley, " Cheer, my Comrades, Cheer." May the voice that rang 
out so grandly from the summit of Kenesaw that glorious after 
noon still go ringing on around the earth in the same message there 
sung," I am Coming," hastening the appearing of the Lord and the 
glad day when we shall be caught up with living and departed 
loved ones, "to meet the Lord in the air ; and so shall we ever be 
^with the Lord." " Amen. Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus." 

"We conclude this chapter with Mr. Bliss' glorious hymn, 
" Hold the Fort," with the story which suggested it. 

During October, 1864, just before Sherman began his famous 
march to the sea, while his army lay camped in the neighborhood of 
Atlanta, the army of Hood in a carefully prepared movement passed 


the right flank of Sherman's army, and gained his rear, commenced 
the destruction of the railroad leading north, burning blockhouses 
and capturing the small garrisons along the line. Sherman's army 
was put in rapid motion, following Hood, to save the supplies and 
larger posts, the principal of which was located at Altoona Pass, a 
defile in the Altoona range of mountains, through which ran the rail 
road. General Corse, of Illinois, was stationed here with a brigade 
of troops, composed of Minnesota and Illinois regiments, in all about 
1,500 men, Colonel Tourtelotte being second in command. A mill 
ion and a half of rations were stored here, and it was highly im 
portant that the earthworks commanding the Pass and protecting 
the supplies should be held. Six thousand men, under command 
of General French, were detailed by Hood to take the position.' 
The works were completely surrounded and summoned to surrender. 
Corse refused, and sharp fighting commenced. The defenders were 
slowly driven into a small fort upon the crest of the hill. Many 
had fallen, and the result seemed to render a prolongation of the 
fight hopeless. At this moment, an officer caught sight of a white 
signal flag, far away across the valley, twenty miles distant, upon 
the top of Kenesaw Mountain. The signal was answered, and soon 
the message was waved across from mountain to mountain : 

" Hold the Fort ; I am coming. W. T. SHERMAN." 

Cheers went up ; every man was nerved to the full appreciation 
of the position ; and, under a murderous fire, which killed or 
wounded more than half the men in the fort Corse himself being 
shot three times through the head, Colonel Tourtelotte taking com 
mand, though himself badly wounded they held the fort for three 
hours, until the advance guard of Sherman's army came up. French 
was obliged to retreat. 

No incident of the war illustrates more thrillingly the inspiration 
imparted by the knowledge of the presence of the commander, and 
that he is cognizant of our position, and that, doing our utmost, he 
will supplant our weakness by speedy reinforcements. So, the mes 
sage of Sherman to the soldiers of Altoona becomes the message of 
the Great Commander, who signals ever to all who fight life's battle, 
" Hold the Fort." 


In May, 1870, Mr. Bliss accompanied me to Kockford, Illinois, 
to sing at a Sunday School Convention. He there heard me relate 
the above incident as an illustration of the inspiration derived by 
the Christian from the thought of Christ as our Commander and 
of His coming to our relief. The song was born at once in his mind, 
and on his return to Chicago, while at my house, he wrote it out 
and published it in sheet music form. 


Ho ! iny comrades, see the signal 

Waving in the sky ! 
Reinforcements now appearing 

Victory is nigh ! 

CHORUS " Hold the fort, for I am coming," 

Jesus signals still. 
Wave the answer back to heaven, 
"By thy grace, we will." 

See the mighty host advancing, 

Satan leading on ; 
Mighty men around us falling, 

Courage almost gone : 

See the glorious banner waving, 

Hear the bugle blow : 
In our Leader's name we'll triumph 

Over every foe. 

Fierce and long the battle rages, 

But our Help is near ; 
Onward comes our Great Commander 

Cheer, my comrades, cheer ! 




MR. BLISS remained in Augusta but five days, but was much 
used of God during that time. His singing made a deep im 
pression on the people, and his earnest words of testimony were 
owned in the conversion of many to Christ. On Easter Sunday he 
sang in the open air, at a meeting held in the court-house square. 
Between three and four thousand people were present, and gave the 
most rapt attention as he sang "Hallelujah, He is Risen," and 
other Gospel songs. His afternoon service was crowded with peo 
ple, and much religious interest immediately developed. 

April 17th, Mr. Bliss left Augusta for Chicago. Here he packed 
away books and papers, and made arrangements to store away fur 
niture until he and his family should return at the close of the year 
to again make a home. The books then put away he was never to 
see again. It was to him a final disposition of his earthly effects. 
With wife and children he left Chicago, May 1st, for Rome, Pennsyl 
vania, the old home, intending here to pass the summer in rest and 
in writing songs for the winter campaign, and commencing the 
work again in October. It was a very happy summer to him. Tho 
little invalid George was greatly benefited by the change of air and 
scene, and rapidly grew well and strong. Old friends came to visit 
them, and many dear familiar scenes and friends were visited by 
them. During the summer, a Normal Institute was held in Towan- 
da, and one beautiful Saturday, all the singers came up in carriages 
to Rome, and passed the day with Mr. Bliss. He was happy as a 
child, with the pleasure of the meeting with old-time friends, and 
the singing under the trees of the old-time songs. He attended for 


.a few days the Sunday School Parliament conducted by Rev. W. E. 
Crafts, at " Thousand Island Park ; " visited the Philadelphia Expo 
sition ; sang at the Chautauqua Assembly, and greatly enjoyed its 
sessions and the intercourse with Christian friends there, and passed 
a week, that he counted a very delightful one, at the home of Mr. 
Moody at Northfield, Massachusetts. Mrs. Bliss was his constant 
companion during the summer, at all of these places. Mr. J. H. 
Vincent, conductor of the Chautauqua Assembly, thus writes of 
Mr. Bliss' services there and his personal recollections of him : 

The fearful tragedy of last Friday evening sent a thrill of horror through 
out the country, before the names of the unfortunate victims had been an 
nounced. But what was the consternation and grief of the American church, 
when the telegraph made known the fact that among the unrecognized or un- 
recovered passengers was the evangelist and singer, P. P. Bliss, who, through 
his many songs, and especially through his association with Major Whittle in 
evangelistic labor, was so well and so widely known. 

Mr. Bliss was on his way to Chicago to engage in special labors. I have the 
impression that he had been summoned there to assist in the meetings of the 
week of prayer. He was accompanied by his lovely and devoted wife, who 
went down with him in the fated train, and who with him entered the Fa 
thers house. 

According to the report of one of the rescued passengers, Mr. Bliss, after 
the accident, escaped from the car, and then returned to save his wife. Finding 
that she could not be brought out, he resigned himself to her doom, and they 
perished together. 

Mr. Bliss was one of the noblest and one of the gentlest of men. He had 
the delicacy of a woman and the strength of a man. His physique was mag 
nificent. I think he was one of the most handsome men I ever met. Large, 
well proportioned, graceful, with a fine, manly face, full of expression. That 
body of his was a grand instrument of music, and from its strength came forth 
sweetness and power. His voice was deep, of wonderful compass and pathos. 
As it rang out through the woods at Chautauqua,the most thoughtless would 
stop and listen. Its marvelous magnetic charm was intensified by the energy 
of the Divine Spirit, which so thoroughly possessed the body and soul of the 
sweet singer. To the utmost transparency of his pure and simple character he 
added a fervent and childlike faith. He was a rare Christian. He knew and 
believed and enjoyed and lived and preached and sang the Gospel of Christ. 
His songs were for the glory of Christ. I never knew a man more thoroughly 
imbued with the Christian spirit. He had one aim and one work in life. He 
was always on the look-out for souls. He coveted, above everything else, spir 
itual results. At our "Sunday School Assembly," in private conversation, in 
the prayer-meetings, in the eventide conferences, on the platform, everywhere, 
he seemed absorbed in this one great work. Last evening I received from a 


personal friend and Gliautauqua Sunday School worker a letter in which the 
following allusion to Mr. Bliss will illustrate the impression he made : 

" I do not know how it has appeared to you, but I have been impressed with 
the idea that Brother Bliss grew very rapidly in grace the last year. 1 noticed, 
for instance, a great difference between the Syracuse Convention of 1875 and 
your Chautauqua meeting of last summer. He came to the Lake full of the 
Holy Ghost and of faith, and all his work was accompanied by divine power. 
You may not have noticed it, but I saw a change from his very first utterance 
on the platform ; and I certainly never knew one more happy in his selections, 
suggestions, etc. I remember, in one of the deeply impressive meetings when 
a soul said he would ' try to seek the Lord,' quiek as thought Mr. Bliss said to 
him ' spell it t-r-u-s-t.' In the meetings you assigned to me I found him a 
helper indeed from the time he reached the grounds, prompt, unassuming, but 
most decided, and with that earnest, serious manner befitting the winner of 
souls. The felicity of his hymn and tune selections is generally known, but the 
force of his Christian character, his directness, energy and downright devotion 
should be emphasized now that we have lost him." 

One of the holiest, Mr. Bliss was one of the cheeriest of men. His w<is not- 
a somber piety. There was no touch of asceticism in his nature. He was as 
simple as a child, and full of genial humor. His personal letters overflow with 
playfulness, puns, rhymes, and personal thrusts of the wittiest but always of 
the most generous character. He lived in the light. It was the light of the 
Lord, and that is the light of love. He never had anything but good to say of 
his brethren. He never carped nor criticised. He saw in others what he had 
most of in himself. He " took to" people. He loved his fellow men. 

I am not competent to speak of Mr. Bliss as a musician. No doubt many of 
his songs lack the fire of true poetry and the ring of the immortal music, but 
when he sang them the words became poetry, and the melodies the very soul 
of music. Many of his productions have real merit, and will live and be sung 
for a hundred years to come. They are charged with the sentiment and the 
force of the living Gospel. " I am so glad that our Father in Heaven " will be 
a child-song in the church of the future. " If there's only one song" of his 
that remains, it will be that one. His " Almost Persuaded " has the solemnity 
of eternity in it. Many a soul has been led by it to immediate decision. " Still 
there's More to Follow," has kindled the faith of the believer and led him to 
seek more of the wondrous "grace" and " love " and " power" which are the 
burden of it. " The Light of the World is Jesus " is a song which derives pe 
culiar significance from the tragic end of its author. Did he sing at the last : 

No darkness have we who in Jesus abide ? 

That the prayer of the song " When Jesus Comes/' was fulfilled in his last 
moments I cannot doubt. 

Oh, let my lamp be burning, 
When Jesus comes. 

I can hear him sing again, out of the tempest in which his earthly bark was 


foundered, as his redeemed spirit looked upon the shores of the glorious land 
just beyond: 

Bright gleams the morning, sailor, uplift the eye, 
Clouds and darkness disappearing, glory is nigh ! 
Safe in the life-boat, sailor, sing evermore, 
" Glory, glory, hallelujah ! pull for the shore." 

Mrs. Bliss was in every way worthy of the noble companion of her life and 
death. Like him she was remarkably pure and simple. She was his helper in 
couventions, and she encouraged him to put forth his earliest efforts as a mu 
sician. How her rich alto voice would pour forth its volumes of music as they 
stood together on the Chautauqua platform ! I have heard them again and 
again sing at night to an immense concourse of people, and amidst the stillness 
of the grave the people would hear these voices of the Lord calling to them as 
out of eternity. 

And the orphaned children ! How often in our travels together have those 
dear parents talked of the treasures of heart and home. May the Father of 
the fatherless be the protector of the little darlings ! I sincerely hope that 
Mr. Moody 's call for a penny collection in all the Sunday Schools of the coun 
try, January 14, will receive a prompt and liberal response. 

The circumstances combined to render the disaster of the Friday evening 
that fearful holocaust the most horrible of all modern accidents. The terri 
ble crash of eleven cars as they fell seventy feet, the howling winds, the 
crushing ice, the freezing waters, the drifting, blinding snow, the raging fires, 
and the black, starless skies ! What agony did the victims experience ! No 
mortal tongue can describe it ! 

But that tempest was to our dear Bliss and his wife the " whirlwind " in 
which they were caught up, as by a " chariot of fire," into the kingdom of the 
Eternal. Whether killed by the fall, or the waters, or the fire, it mattered 
little to them. Whether the struggle was for but a moment, or protracted for 
many minutes, it was for them to look the dear Lord in the face the Lord 
whom they had trusted and loved so long and all was well. And all now 
is well. 

How can we account for such a wonderful visitation ? Are good men so 
plentiful that the Lord can remove one so useful just at the time of his 
largest promise ? What does it all mean ? 

Well, we are not called upon to explain it. God does not require His ser 
vants to account for or to defend His administration. But we do see a few 
things in the visitation which give us some light and consolation. 

1. The departed brother and his wife were ready. They were ripe for 
heaven. Why should we mourn or wonder when the chorus of the skies is 
made stronger and sweeter ? 

2. The songs our dear brother wrote are still with us. And they have 
received a new sweetness and significance and power by the tragic end of the 
singer of them. 

3. This death has startled into new activity and consecration the workers 


in all the churches. Who can estimate the intensified convictions, the strength 
ened purposes, the redoubled diligence among that blessed brotherhood 
who are at work in America and all this, under God, caused by this 
solemn call. 

4. By the peculiar method of. the divine providence in the present case, a 
holy Christian life is brought before the public. Brother Bliss now preaches 
with a tongue of fire to the millions. Tens of thousands who had never seen 
nor even heard of the departed are now brought face to face with his lovely 
character, and with the Christ he so faithfully proclaimed. 

5. But is there no ministry in the sphere to which he has been removed, 
for such a royal soul as his ? 

Dear Bliss ! The memories will come his face, his noble form, his gentle 
manners, his fervent prayers and appeals, his deep absorption in the one beau 
tiful work of his life ! Farewell, dear friend ! Our hearts bleed at the thought 
that we shall see him no more here ! The world seems lonely without him ! 
But we shall meet yonder ! 

Plainfield, N. J., January 4, 1877. 

While at Northfield, in September, Mr. Bliss accompanied Mr. 
Moody to Greenfield, Brattleboro, Keene and adjacent towns, and 
sang at meetings Mr. Moody conducted. He writes : " September 
18, 1876. Just returned from a week with Bro. Moody, in his home 
at Northfield, driving one hundred miles over Vermont, Massachu 
setts and New Hampshire hills, and holding eleven meetings." He 
greatly enjoyed this visit, as did also Mrs. Bliss, although both 
would laughingly mention Mr. Moody's habit of making the best use 
of his visitors that he could, as manifest by his using them at 
eleven meetings in a week. 

October 1st, Mr. Bliss arrived in Chicago, and was present at 
Moody and Sankey's opening service. He was the guest, at this 
time, of Mr. H. M. Thompson, of the Brevoort House, and here com 
pleted several of the songs that appeared in Gospel Hymns No. 2. 
He did not participate in any of the Chicago meetings in a public 
way, but for three weeks was a constant attendant, and was greatly 
blessed in the remarkable services that opened Mr. Moody's work in 
Chicago, and in the personal contact with Mr. Moody and Mr. 
Sankey, with the latter of whom he spent most of his time, remov 
ing for a couple of weeks to Mr. Sankey's hotel, that they might be 
uninterruptedly together. Until this time they had never been much 
together in the work, but had arranged for their hymn books 
mostly by correspondence. Now, they had what both had long de- 


sired a season of personal conference, that cemented more closely 
the bonds of brotherhood between them. 

The hundreds of those who have compared and criticised these 
two men, and, judging of what is in us all by nature, have thought 
of them as in any manner envious or jealous of one another, would 
have a clearer apprehension of what the grace of God in the heart 
can do, if they could have known the loving relationship that ex 
isted between them. It was a scene long to be remembered, to be 
with them alone for an hour in the room at the Pacific Hotel, as they 
compared and tested and criticised the songs to be used in their 
meetings. First, one would be at the organ rendering a song, then 
the other, and both laughing, crying and praying together over 
their work. They rejoiced in each other's gifts, and praised God 
for the honor conferred upon them in being used in His service. 
Mr. Bliss would never listen, if he could avoid it, to depreciation of 
others, and in all the writer's fellowship with him, he cannot recall 
an unkind or envious expression or act toward those whom he may 
have esteemed better singers or of greater reputation than himself. 
God answered to him in a remarkable degree his prayer, 

Only an Instrument, ready His praises to sound at His will, 
Willing, should He not require me, in silence to wait on Him still. 

He could sit and listen to the singing of others, and pray for 
them, and rejoice in God's using them, without a thought to mar 
his communion with God. During this sojourn in Chicago, many 
precious gatherings of brethren consecrated to evangelistic work were 
enjoyed by Mr. Bliss. Needham and Stebbins, Moorhouse, Charles 
Inglis, Eockwell, Morton, Jacobs, Farwell, Spafford, Dean and 
others were frequently together in those days, dining with Moody, 
and discussing Gospel truth or plans of work, or in Bliss' room 
listening to some new song. These brethren and others engaged in 
the work were all dear to Mr. Bliss, and were many times mentioned 
by name in his prayers. He delighted to hear of the blessing of 
God upon their labors, and to see of their own growth in grace. 

October 21st, the brethren separated for their different posts 
near Chicago. Mr. Bliss went to Kalamazoo, Michigan, Mrs. Bliss 
accompanying him. The evening of their arrival, they were enter 
tained at Rev. Mr. Spencer's, where, with thoughtful hospitality, 
all the pastors of the city were gathered to give them welcome. It 


was a very pleasant aud profitable meeting, and both Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss often recurred to it as having given them much pleasure. 
The meetings held here were participated in by all the ministers, 
and from the first were much blessed. Mr. Bliss conducted a 
young people's meeting here as in other places, and with happy 
results. Many there look upon him as the instrument in God's 
hands of leading them to Christ. He sang in the young ladies' 
seminary, and at the Baptist College, and in many private residences 
to the sick and invalid ones. The dear friend there, who for seven 
years or more has been confined to his room, will well remember the 
sunshiny day, when Mr. Bliss came and sang to him the " Ninety 
and Nine," " Hallelujah, what a Savior," and how, in the seasons 
of prayer and reading the word that followed this visit, he gave 
his heart to the Lord. In a little while, he will cross the tide, and 
will know in its fullness the truth, "Hallelujah, what a Savior." 
The dear young man who met Mr. and Mrs. Bliss in the singing 
room, grown reckless from repeated failures in his experiments at 
becoming a Christian, will never forget the pressure of the hands 
that were so kindly placed upon his shoulders, or the earnest, loving 
look from the eyes that met his, or the words so earnestly spoken, 
telling him that his failure had come from his experiments, and 
urging him now, without experimenting, to trust Christ fully for all 
things, and make a full commitment to Him. Very earnestly did 
both these dear friends pray for this young man. Very faithful 
was dear Mrs. Bliss in her encouragement and counsel to him, and 
very happy were both of them when, the day of their departure, 
they took their leave of him, an intelligent, decided, happy Chris 
tian. Never will dear H. forgot the interest taken in his conversion 
by Mr. Bliss, nor the sympathy and faith of Mrs. Bliss with his 
dear parents, when they were praying to God for his salvation. H. 
has sent me a copy of a letter received from Mr. Bliss, which speaks 
his heart, and tells of his personal interest in his Lord's work : 

JACKSON, MICH., 20th November, 1876. 

God bless you, my dear friend H., or Brother " Fred," as I prefer to call you. 
It is just as I expected. Your letter didn't surprise me a bit. 

Welcome to the ranks. Now " forward, march," in the service of our 
Captain. You are not the man to sit still and prosper. And I'm so glad, Fred, 
that you've begun in time to put in a full day's work. So here's my heart's 
" Good Cheer," and I expect to see you take both hands and pull with a will. 


The kind of a " Christian " you are to be will be largely determined in ttie 
next few months, I might have said weeks. 

Lend a hand to that score or more of your associates and the college boys. 
Pull them in shore before they drift down to the rapids. Help some weak 
friend by a lift on his burden. 

Oh, how the world needs happy, singing, joyful young Christians ! 

I congratulate you upon the good times you are going to have in the service 
of the Lord. If the Devil knocks you down occasionally, you'll fall on your 
knees ; and then he'll soon leave you. Good is the Lord. Amen. 

Should have replied sooner, but hoped to see you. We all go to Chicago 
to-morrow night. Love to father, mother and sisters. 

Yours in Galatians ii, 20, 


Just beginning to get hold here. Pray for us. 

One evening, at Kalamazoo, while on the way to the service, 
this verse was repeated and became a favorite with us from that on, 
and was almost daily quoted : 

In peace I go ; no fear I know 
Since Christ walks by my side. 
His love to me my joy shall be, 
His words shall be my guide. 

Among the papers found in his trunk was a slip with that verse 
written upon it. "Whatever comes, let us just stick to that," he 
would remark, and it truly expressed the atmosphere in which, in 
those days, he seemed to be walking. Each day the Master gave 
him some special work, some special blessing. Some years before, he 
had given a concert in Kalamazoo, and was entertained for the night 
by a gentleman who a little time after had died. Mr. Bliss sought 
out the family, and found a representative of them in a daughter 
who had married a well-known business man, but neither of them 
Christians. God used his visit to them, and both were led, before 
the meeting closed, to accept Christ, and were very happy in His love, 
and are now among the most active Christian workers of the place. 

Another letter, received from a young lady in Kalamazoo, and 
given below, will tell its own story as to the faithfulness of Mr. and 
Mrs. Bliss to individual souls the simple secret of all success in 
evangelistic work, from the time that Jesus talked with Nicodemus 
by night and the woman at Samaria at noon, to the present hour. 

Faithfulness in private work with individuals must keep pace 
with service in public to * ^e crowds, or that will be no power. 


KALAMAZOO, MICH., February 10, 1877. 

DEAR SIR I was baptized last Sunday, and while I realize that " with God 
all things are possible/' still it does not seem to me that any one but Mr. Bliss 
could have induced me to take this step. 1 ain a minister's daughter and have 
been a constant attendant on divine worship, and have attended many revivals 
where sinners nocked to Christ, but they always left me just outside the fold. 
When Mr. Bliss sang "Only Trust Him," it touched my heart. Then he was 
so sympathetic, and he said that he did not know the time when he was con 
verted. He left feeling entirely out of the question ; and while others made 
" great the mystery of godliness," with him it was " Only Trust Him." 

I promised Mrs. B. that I would write to them at Jackson, but was very busy 
with my studies, and, as I told Dr. Hodge, I waited too long ; but he thought 
that in heaven they would rejoice with far greater joy than they could on earth. 
But heaven seems a great way off. and there are a great many passages in the 
Bible I cannot understand, and when I heard of their death it seemed to me that 
God did not care for His children ; but with all such thoughts I see again the 
glorious singer, and hear in sweetest accent, " Only Trust Him." There was 
no one, excepting my dear papa, mamma and sister, whose death I would have 
regretted so much. I can scarcely realize that I knew them only three short 
weeks. I spent the afternoon with them at their rooms here. They were the 
happiest hours of my life. Mrs. Bliss gave me her photograph, but the only 
one I have of him hangs on memory's walls, and it shall never be obliterated. 
I have a beautiful letter that they wrote me while they were here. I am very 
glad that you came to Kalamazoo. I pray for you that God will make you very 
successful in winning souls to Him. 

I gave Mr. Bliss " Bunyan's Complete Works," and wrote on the fly leaf, " I go 
to prepare a place for you that where I am there ye may be also ; " but little 
did I think he would so soon be there. The last night they were here we were 
the last ones to leave the church. At the door, Mr. Bliss turned around and 
said, " Good bye, old Methodist Church, I shall not see you again ; " but to me 
he said, " I will just say good night to you ; we shall meet again in the morn 
ing." He won the love of all. Heaven seems nearer and dearer now that they 
are there ; but how we miss them here ! Mr. Bliss said to me some time before 
he left, " I shall watch for you in heaven." I know they are waiting for me 
at the beautiful gate. Will you pray for me, Mr. Whittle, that I may be a 
happy, devoted Christian and meet them there ? 

Yours in the blessed hope of John vi, 47, **** *** 

The afternoon Mr. Bliss left Kalamazoo, the young men, many 
of them new converts, surprised him by gathering at the depot and 
singing him a farewell from Gospel Songs. The last song, which 
closed as the train came up to the station, was " We're going Home 



FKOM the llth to the 21st of November, 1876, Mr. Bliss was in 
Jackson, Michigan, in union meetings. He was much used 
here, and was in an unusual degree anxious to talk personally with 
the unsaved. The first Sunday evening he conducted a meeting of 
his own in the Kev. Mr. Matte's church, and with much blessing. 
A dear friend, employed by the railroad company, with his wife, 
was present that evening, and both remained for personal conversa 
tion with him. They were singers and were glad to have him talk 
with them, and before he left them, both accepted Christ. That 
friend is now leading the singing in the church where he was con 
verted, and is spoken of by the pastor as one of his most active 

The Michigan State Prison is located at Jackson, and on both 
Sunday mornings of Mr. Bliss' stay in the city, he conducted ser 
vice for the eight hundred inmates there. The most tender, elo 
quent, and earnest appeal that could have possibly been made to 
sinners to accept the love of Christ was made by him at his last 
meeting with these dear men, Sunday morning, November 19th. 
He spoke of their homes, and of the little children, who missed their 
papas ; told them of his own dear little Paul going around the room, 
and kneeling at the different chairs and praying for his papa and 
mamma ; then turned all their awakenefl sympathies to Christ, by 
speaking of how impossible it would be for him to give up his dear 
little boy to die for others, and to die a death of great suffering, and 
those for whom he died to be his enemies. " Oh, friends," he said, 
with tears, " I could not do it, but this is what God did for you. 
He loved you and gave His Son to die for you." The Spirit of God 


was upon Mr. Bliss that morning in that prison, and as he spoke 
and as he sang, the hearts of those hardened men melted like wax. 
Defiant faces softened, and grew beautiful with earnest, tender, 
sympathetic feeling. The animal and sensuous expression pre 
dominant in many faces passed away, as they looked upon that ear 
nest face, and saw the tears falling as he plead with them of Christ's 
love, and then sang, as if singing for God alone : 

Man of Sorrows. What a name 
For the Son of God, who came 
Rebel sinners to reclaim. 

Hallelujah! what a Savior ! 

Two-thirds of the men there seemed quite broken down by the 
reality of the things of God. They never will forget the service of 
thafc hour. A strange feeling of the sense of the presence of Jesus 
Christ came over the writer while Mr. Bliss was talking, and the 
expression upon the faces of the men was softening under his words. 
It seemed to be an explanation of the words spoken of Christ: ' e Then 
drew near unto Him publicans and sinners, for to hear Him." He 
was filled with sympathy and love, and his dear servant that day 
was near enough to the Master to reflect His spirit. 

. Here, as at Kalamazoo, Mrs. Bliss accompanied her husband to 
nearly every meeting, and sang once or twice with him every even 
ing. His personal interest in the unsaved was made manifest by 
an incident that occurred in Jackson. Late one evening, at the close 
of a meeting, he went to the telegraph office in the depot, to send 
a message. While writing his dispatch, an operator came in, and, 
without noticing Mr. Bliss, commenced speaking to the two or three 
railroad men who were in the room, about the meeting. His first 
words, as laughingly reported by Mr. Bliss to the writer, were 4 : 
" Well, I've been to church, and if I couldn't preach better than 
that man, I'd quit the business. The singing though, was good. 
I think Bliss knows how to sing and I'll go again, perhaps, to hear 
him." Stepping up to the counter and taking up Mr. Bliss' dis 
patch, he at once recognized him, and in a manly way said :: " Well,, 
no offense intended. I didn't know you were here; but I don't 
take back a word, except the swearing. I don't believe a word 
Whittle said." Without entering into an argument, Mr. Bliss pre 
sented the Gospel to him, and urged upon him the one way of salva- 


tion. The young man objected very strongly to a statement in the 
sermon, that, no matter how sincere people were in their belief, 
they were lost if they rejected God's truth. "Well," said Mr. 
Bliss, " isn't it like this ? If a man wants to go to Chicago to-night, 
and he makes a mistake, and when the Detroit train comes from 
the west, he takes it and goes east. Thinking very sincerely that 
he is on his way to Chicago won't help him a bit. He must believe 
what the conductor tells him, that he is wrong, and face about or 
he will never reach Chicago." The railroad men chimed in an 
assent to this illustration. "Just what happened on my train, the 
other day," said a conductor. " A man was going east, when he 
wanted to go west, and I had hard work to make him believe he 
was wrong." It was late and Mr. Bliss was very tired, but for some 
time he remained speaking to this friend. Nor did he forget the 
interview. Each day he prayed for this young man, and the very 
last person he spoke to in Jackson was this operator, urging him 
to accept Christ and take his stand as His follower. 

The stay in Jackson was a very brief one, but blessed of God to 
rn any souls. The closing meeting, held in the Methodist Church, 
Bliss often referred to as one of the best of the year. After the 
preaching of the Gospel, Mr. Bliss sang, " I have a Savior He's 
pleading in glory," with its sweet refrain, " For you I am praying. 
I'm praying for you," as found, with music by himself, in Gospel 
Songs. He sang this piece a great deal, and poured out his heart 
in real prayer as he sang it. During his singing, those present who 
desired the prayers of God's people were invited to rise, and how 
happy he would be, as he sang, to see them respond. While sing 
ing it one evening, his heart going out for sinners, he added this 
verse, not found in the song as printed in Gospel Hymns : 

And Jesus is calling, how can you reject Him ? 
He says He loves sinners, so then He loves you. 
O friend, do believe it, arise and accept Him, 
Give Jesus your heart, while I'm praying for you. 

That night in Jackson, as he sang, a hundred or more arose, and 
the Spirit of God was felt in power in the meeting. After his sing 
ing, prayer was offered, asking that those impressed might then and 
there decide and fully accept Christ as their Savior, as presented to 
them in the word. Mr. Bliss then sang " Hallelujah, 'tis Done ;" 


and all who would accept and were willing to confess Christ and 
promise to commence His service were given the opportunity of 
so doing by arising. Nearly all who had arisen for prayer again 
arose, and the singer's face fairly shone with joy as he sang : 

There's a part in that chorus for you and for me, 
And the theme of our praises forever will be : 

Hallelujah, 'tis done! i believe on the Son ! 

I am saved by the blood of the Crucified One ! 

The meeting in Jackson closed November 21st, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss came to Chicago to attend the Christian Convention called by 
Mr. Moody. During the session he made an address upon the use 
of song in worship, and sang at the prayer meeting of ministers in 
Farwell Hall, presided over by Mr. Moody, on the morning of 
November 24th. Over a thousand ministers were present, and the 
intense spiritual feeling prevailing found fit expression through 
Bliss in song. After he had sung " Are your Windows Open 
toward Jerusalem ? " his own soul thrilled by the conscious pres 
ence of the Holy Spirit, one dear minister cried out, " God bless 
Mr. Bliss for that song ; " and scores of ameiis came from as many 
earnest, tender hearts. This was the last time he sang in Chicago. 
None who were present in Farwell Hall that forenoon will ever for 
get the power with which he sang. Mr. Moody. leaned forward in 
his chair, occupied with the song and the singer, and overcome 
by the feeling produced by the music and the sentiment of the 
hymn. It was the last time he was to hear him this side of 
the River. When next he hears his voice, it will be in the 
Heavenly choir. 


Do you see the Hebrew captive kneeling 1 , 

At morning-, noon and night, to pray? 
In his chamber he remembers Zion, 

Though in exile far away. 

CHORUS : Are your windows open toward Jerusalem, 

Though as captives here a " little while" we stay? 
For the coming of the King in his glory, 
Are you watching day by day? 


Do not fear to tread the fiery furnace, 

Nor shrink the lion's den to share ; 
For the God of Daniel will deliver, 

He will send His angel there. 

Children of the living God, take courage ; 

Your great deliverance sweetly sing, 
Set your faces toward the hill of Zion, 

Thence to hail our coming King. 

The foregoing was suggested to Mr. Bliss while attending a Sun 
day service at the State Prison in Joliet, Illinois, where he had 
gone to sing. Mr. H. G. Spafford, of Chicago, addressed the pris 
oners, and used Daniel in Babylon, as an illustration to them of 
Gospel truth, and asked the question in closing " Are your win 
dows open toward Jerusalem ? " 



ON the 25th of November, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, with the writer, left 
Chicago, for Peoria, Illinois. It was of our Father's goodness, 
that we should all be together, while there, in the hospitable care of 
aur dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Kobert Grier. Our rooms joined and 
were connected with each other, and we were thus constantly to 
gether. Had we known that the separation was so near, we could 
not have planned for ourselves, for the fullest enjoyment of the few 
days remaining, as our Heavenly Father planned for us. Both of 
us had long known and loved Eeynolds, Tyng, Mcllvaine and other 
Christian workers in Peoria, and it was a joy to meet with them 
and their families and to work with them for souls. In no place 
were the dear brothers of the ministry more cordial and kind in 
their welcome and fellowship. A hearty support was given to the 
meetings by all the churches, and Rouse's Hall was kept full from 
night to night with people brought in by the faithful visitation of 
Christians to hear the Grospel. Mr. Bliss had many musical friends 
in Peoria, and under the direction of Messrs. Bacon and Pitt he 
found a choir ready to assist him, that gave him much delight. 
Very earnest and faithful were they all, and very highly did Mr. 
Bliss appreciate and enjoy their services. 

While in Peoria, our dear brother, Mr. R. C. Morgan, of Lon 
don, England (whose article upon Mr. Bliss, taken from Tlie 
Christian, will be found in the chapters devoted to memorial ser 
vices), paid us a visit, and passed some days with us. His imme 
diate object in coming was to talk with us about a visit to England. 
This was proposed to us before he came, by Mr. Moody, but was 
now to be considered. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were both favorably in 
clined to the proposition, but desirous of knowing and doing the 
will of the Lord in the matter. I find in our diary, under date of 


December 4th : " To-day Bliss, and wife and I united in special 
prayer that God would guide as to our future movements. Moody 
has spoken about our going to England. We expect Brother Morgan 
of London here, this week, to suggest this to us. The pastors meet 
in Chicago, to-day, to consider inviting us there after Mr. Moody 
leaves, and calls are before us from various places. We know not 
what is best, but trust we are all willing to be led, and we ask the 
Master to plan for us and to keep us. We had rather go anywhere 
else than to Chicago, and shrink much from following Mr. Moody 
there. May God give us wisdom to know His will." 

Mr. Bliss, from the very first, had an almost unaccountable 
aversion to the plan proposed of his returning from his Christmas 
visit to his children, to Chicago, and work there. He desired to 
remain in the East, working in New England, while Moody an4 
Sankey were in Boston. The expression in his last letter before 
coming west is explained by this reluctance. The subject of con 
versation during these days at Peoria naturally turned much upon 
the proposed trip to England. Mrs. Bliss was disposed to leave her 
children in this country. She said, " They are under as good care 
with sister Clara as they could possibly be. They love her now aa 
much as they do me, and I believe it would be better for them and 
better for us in the work, if they are left in Eome." In comment 
ing upon this, the remark was made that if accident should occur 
and we were drowned, the children would be safe. Her reply was, 
" Well, I shouldn't think of that. If we ask the Lord to guide 
us, and it seems best for all to go, and we are all drowned, it is all 
right It is the Lord's will, and it will be best We should all go 
together." When Mr. Burchell's dispatch, stating that "Bliss, 
wife and children were among the dead," was shown me, these words 
of Mrs. Bliss came very vividly to my mind. 

In Peoria Mr. Bliss held his children's meetings each afternoon, 
at the Methodist Church, and became more interested than ever in 
the work for the young, and earnestly expressed his determination 
to more and more labor in that direction. A number of very in 
teresting conversions in his meetings gave him much pleasure. One 
dear little German boy, a manly little fellow of eight years old, in 
terested Mr. and Mrs. Bliss very much. He was an intelligent boy, 
and had a business-like way of speaking of his having accepted 
Christ > that commended him specially to Mrs. Bliss, who was always 


repelled by affectation in young or old, and was, perhaps uncon 
sciously, a little unsympathetic toward children on this account. 
It was during a conversation suggested by her speaking of her con 
fidence in this boy, that Mr. Bliss said, " You do not understand 
the child nature. You never had a childhood, but were always a 
mother child." Since their death the following letter was received 
from their little Peoria friend. It is given verbatim : 

PEORIA, I1L, January 27. 

I saw a piece in the Standard of you and Mr. Bliss,, I saw that you and the 
Rev. Mr. Morgan, of London, were getting up a book of the life of Mr. and 
Mrs. Bliss, and wanted to have letters from those who have been blessed or 
converted by his songs. I can say that I was converted when they was sing 
ing the second hymn, " Hallelujah, 'tis Done." In singing the chorus of it, I 
thought do 1 believe on the Son ? and so, as you gave the first invitation for all 
that were not Christians and wanted to be prayed for to rise, and then asked 
how many wanted to settle it now to rise, I was among that lot that rose as 
there were forty or fifty, you said. I saw five or. sir that rose that were right 
behind me. I attended all of Mr. Bliss' children's meetings, as also I attended 
all of yours. It was Thanksgiving night, at the Centennial Hall, in which I 
.was converted. I expect you know me. I am eight years old. I remain, as 
ever, your friend, 


It was a very sad day for me when I received the news of brother Bliss' 
death. As there was crying and sobbing when we heard it, as my brother kept 
asking what was the matter. I hope you will pray for our family and for me, 
as I will continue to pray for you. 

This letter fully justifies Mrs. Bliss in her opinion of her little 
friend William. 

Mr. Reynolds writes from Peoria, in connection with Mr. Bliss* 
labors, that over fifty scholars in his Sunday School testified that 
they attributed the influence leading to their decision for Christ to 
the special labors of Mr. Bliss. In the evening meetings for adults, 
God gave him also many souls in Peoria. One night he was the 
last one home, and as he came home and hung up his coat in the 
hall, he remarked, in his happy way, " My last inquiry meeting was 
at the gate. Three dear young men, all hungry for the Gospel, 
and two of them have taken Christ" 

Our last visit together to the afflicted was made in Peoria. He 


sang for one who was under peculiar bereavement, and who longed 
for release from life's burdens, his hymn, " Father, I'm Tired." 
The frail girl to whom he sang seemed much nearer that day to 
" crossing the tide" than the strong singer who so cheered her with 
his song ; but she still lives, and may for many a day, to praise the 
grace that can sustain and bless in the deepest affliction, while he 
has gone. 

Among the many precious meetings in Peoria that come throng 
ing to the mind, none, as connected with these loved ones, is more 
clearly remembered than the Thanksgiving morning prayer-meet 
ing, in Dr. Edwards' church. Dear Bliss was full of the spirit of 
praise, and, as always, when upon that theme, he lifted us all into 
sympathy with him. He sang the song of his own composing, 
called " Grandfather's Bible," prefacing it by remarking how much 
he had to praise God for in having had a godly ancestry ; and very 
full of tender reminiscences to all were the old tunes woven 
in to tell the story of -the Puritans' Bible. He loved to sing the 
old time tunes, and the hymns his father and mother taught him, 
and very sweetly he sang them that morning, causing the tears 
to flow from the eyes of many children " of parents passed into 
the skies." 

Thanksgiving Day we spent with the kind friends who were 
entertaining us. After dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss sang. He had 
written many very popular songs that he never sang after he 
went into Gospel work, and that I knew nothing of. One of these, 
called " Jolly Jonathan," I had heard of his singing at Northfield 
for Mr. Moody, and greatly to the latter's delight, and I wished to 
hear it. He had refused several times in Kalamazoo and Jackson, 
on our Saturday rest days, and upon this occasion I was the more 
importunate. Mrs. Bliss finally said, " Well, Mr. Bliss, you had 
better let the Major hear what it is ; but, Major, Mr. Bliss is through 
making and singing that kind of songs, and he doesn't like to have 
people remember him as singing them." I appreciate now, as I did 
not then, how out of sympathy he had become, in the habitual tone 
of his mind, with all that was not connected with Christ during 
these last days. 



Haow du yu du, my naburs ? I'm. glad tu see yu all, 

Just make yerselves tu hum, I say ; I'm tickled with your call, 

I guess you'll find Columby a purty place tu stay ; 

I kalkelate you never see a land so fair and gay. 

Ameriky, Ameriky, Ameriky, Hooraw ! 

Ameriky, Ameriky, Ameriky, Hooraw 1 

Aw, "beg you pawdon, mistah ; a chawming land I see, 
But, aw, acwas the watahs wide a lawdly land theah be 
A land we call Old Hingland, magnifithent and grand ; 
A higheh awdeh Bwiton, hath, a wich, a noble band. 
Britannia, Britannia, Britannia, Huwaw ! 
Britannia, Britannia, Britannia, Huwaw ! 

Och, bother, shtop yer blarney, just let Quid Ireland shpake ; 

A blessid darlin' koonthry, too, she is, and no mishtake, , 

Sich gintlemanly pigs, oh, sich praties there are raised, 

Wid niver once a shnake, ye mind, Saint Patrick's name be praised 1 

Ould Ireland, Ould Ireland, Ould Ireland, Hoorah ! 

Ould Ireland, Ould Ireland, Ould Ireland, Hoorah ! 

Nix komarouse der Deitchland, das is der land for me ; 

Mit shootsenfest, mit sangerbund und sauerkraut so free ; 

Yaw, yaw, das is der koontry, mein faderland so dear, 

I love, oh, my ! I feels so pad, I'll dake some lager bier. 

Der Deitcherland, Der Deitcherland, Der Deitcherland, yaw, yaw ! 

Der Deitcherland, Der Deitcherland, Der Deitcherland, yaw, yaw 1 



THERE seems now, in looking back over our intercourse in 
Peoria, a foreshadowing of approaching separation. One day 
while taking a walk that was almost a daily one with Mr. Bliss and 
the writer, up the Bluff, we spoke that the time might be near at 
hand, when one of us would be walking alone, and thinking of the 
departed one in places where we had been together. He, always 
inclined toward "the hope," said : "Just as probable that Christ 
may come and we all go together. What a beautiful day this would 
be for Him to come." We had talked of the sudden death of our 
friend Samuel Moody, Mr. Moody's brother, and in connection with 
that event and the view we had of the Lord's return, our minds 
were often turned toward what now recurs as almost premonitory 
of what was to come. On the 14th of December, we held our last 
meeting. From 8.30 A. M. to 5 P. M., with intermission at noon, we 
held a Christian Convention. Mr. Bliss sang through the day, and 
spoke with his usual earnestness and emphasis upon the use of song 
in worship. In the evening, accompanied by Brother Morgan, 
who had spent the day with us, we went to Rouse's Hall. On the 
way, Mrs. Bliss remarked : " Major, if you want us to sing ' Waiting 
and Watching/ to-night, you must not say anything before asking 
us to sing. It is all that I can do to control my feelings anyway, 
when we do sing it, and if you introduce it by remarks, I shall 
break down." They sang this piece, and "I Know not the Hour 
that My Lord will Come," that evening the last I ever heard them 
sing together. Mr. Bliss sang "Eternity" alone. 

That evening we left for Chicago. We breakfasted and dined 
with Mr. Moody at theBrevoort House, and arranged that we should 


take up the work in Chicago, Sunday, December 31 ; I going back 
to Peoria, and Bliss going to visit his children until that time. 
After the Lord was through with us in Chicago, we were to go to 
England. Bliss yielded about coming to Chicago, but to the last 
was unconvinced as to its being best. 

They left that Friday afternoon by the 5.15 Michigan Southern 
train. Before leaving the hotel, we met for a few moments of 
prayer in Room 13, and I parted with them there, never again to 
meet on earth. He passed the following Sunday in Towanda, Penn 
sylvania, with his mother and his sister, Mrs-. Willson. Three 
letters that he wrote from there all speak of the joy he felt at the 
meeting with the mother of his thankfulness for the peace that 
seemed to be filling her soul and the blessing her prayers and faith 
had been to him. Monday, December 18th. he rode by stage to 
Rome, and the parents were with their dear little boys again. All 
of the associations of home for both of them clustered around Father 
Young's house in Rome, their frequent happy resting-place on life's 
journey ; they came with joy to it now, both almost as merry as 
their little boys. They had been purchasing and making articles 
for Christmas presents for weeks, and came with a trunk full of 
surprises for the approaching holiday. ' When Christmas came, 
Mother Bliss was sent for, and all the family circle within reach 
were gathered at the old home. Mr. Bliss was the Santa Claus. 
On Saturday he went out on to the hillside and cut the Christmas 
tree, and with his own hands arranged it in the parlor and hung his 
surprises. Saturday evening, the presents were distributed and 
" the happiest Christmas he had ever known," as he said, was quickly 
passed. He had surprises for everybody and spent the day in mak 
ing everybody happy. From Grandma Allen down to little George, 
everybody in the entire circle was remembered, and portions were 
sent outside the circle to all of whom he could learn in the village 
as being in want. He himself was not without his surprises. Gifts 
from the wife and other loved ones, and a magnificent music box 
from his loved friend and publisher, Mr. Church, added to his 
happiness. This Christmas was to him the crowning joy and mercy 
of a year of joys and mercies. His heart overflowed with thankful 
ness to God and with earnest desire to do more in the service of 
Christ. He visited nearly every day among the neighbors, and urged 
the claims of Christ upon the personal attention of those unsaved. 


He attended nearly every meeting, and sang and gave Bible readings, 
and made personal appeals to his friends to at once decide for Christ. 
All testify that they never knew him so earnest. Grandma Allen 
says : " Why, that man would come in and say, ( Grandma, I wish I 
could see every person in this valley a Christian. " : The dear old 
Grandma is very quaint and original in her way, and " Phil," as all 
at home called him, loved to draw out her odd sayings. The little 
account Grandma gave me of one of his home meetings with them, 
on one of the last days, when they gathered for a Bible talk and 
sing, will illustrate the enjoyment she gave him. She said : " He 
had been asking them all around where they had rather have seen 
Jesus, when He was on the earth, if they had to select one place. 
They all selected different places, and he said he would rather have 
seen Him as He went up into heaven from the Mount of Olives ; 
and then he asked me where I had rather have seen Him, and I 
told him that I had rather have seen Him when He was a little 
helpless baby, there in the manger, among the oxen, and helped 
take care of Him, and he just cried about it." 

God blessed Mr. Bliss' testimony and labor during this last 
week to the conversion of many old friends and neighbors, and some 
score or more feel that they owe their decision to his influence, and 
that the light they have received from the Son of God came through 

Mr. Bliss' last meeting was held Wednesday evening, December 
27. He was full of the Holy Spirit, and sang with more than usual 
power. Among the pieces that friends remember as sung that night 
are : " Alas ! and did my Savior Bleed ? " to the tune of Dundee ; 
" Happy Day," and " In the Christian's Home in Glory." He sang 
as solos "Eternity," "Father, I'm Tired," and as a closing song, 
"Hold Fast till I Come." In singing "Father, I'm Tired," he 
took occasion to speak of his companion in the work, and of his 
affection for him, and that he -would sing the piece because it was 
one of his favorites. The last song, probably, that he sang on earth 
was " Hold Fast till I Come." He prefaced his singing it by say 
ing that it was one of the first occasions of its being sung, and that 
it might be the last song he should ever sing to them. 

On Wednesday, a letter came to me from Mr. Bliss, in which he 
wrote : 

" I hear nothing from you definite as to my being wanted in 


Chicago next Sunday. Unless I hear from you, I shall not leave 
this week." This letter came in the morning. He had been adver 
tised to sing in Mr. Moody's Tabernacle the following Sunday after 
noon. It was necessary to telegraph him to come.' But evening 
came and found me at my home and the telegram was not sent. I 
had not forgotten it, but did not want to send it. I did not know 
then, I do not know now, why. All day long, it was upon my mind 
and was spoken of to friends that Bliss must be telegraphed for, and 
that I did not like to take the responsibility of doing it. Late in 
the evening, the dispatch was forwarded. 

Thursday morning, he took his little boys into a room by them 
selves and prayed with them, bade good-bye to all, and, standing 
upon the threshold for a moment, said : " I would love to stay. 
I would far rather stay than go, if it were God's will ; but I must be 
about the Master's work." He wrote back from Waverly, New York, 
a station on the Erie Eailroad, the same afternoon : " Tickets for 
Chicago, via Buffalo and Lake Shore Railroad. Baggage checked, 
through. Shall be in Chicago Friday night. God bless you all 

Taking the afternoon train at Waverly, he expected to be in 
Buffalo at twelve o'clock that night, and connect with a train that 
would arrive in Chicago Friday evening. Ten miles from Waverly 
(as I learned from the conductor, in tracing him up), the engine of 
the train broke, and they were detained three hours. Their con 
nection with this train was thus lost ; and upon arriving at Hor- 
nellsvillo late in the evening, they evidently decided to wait over, 
and have a night's rest, and arrive in Chicago Saturday morning at 
nine o'clock for at Hornellsville they left the train, and are regis 
tered at the hotel, which they left Friday morning, taking the 
train which connected at Buffalo with the Chicago train, wrecked 
at Ashtabula, Ohio. The children were not with them, but had 
been left at Rome, Pennsylvania, in the care of grandparents and 

The story of the disaster by which these two precious lives were 
lost will be found in another chapter. What experience they 
passed through, that night of fear and pain, we shall not know until 
we meet them on the other side. We may confidently believe that 
God gave them abundant grace for all they met of suffering, and 
that Christ was consciously near to them in their moment of need. 


The time was shortened for the elect's sake and they were soon at 
home. From all the evidence that could be gathered from the 
testimony of survivors, it is believed that the Buffalo and Cleveland 
parlor car, in which they were seen by Mr. Burchell, a lady passen 
ger, and by the newsboy of the train, struck first upon the ice after 
the fall of the bridge, and that another car fell upon it, crushing 
and probably instantly killing the passengers within. The floor of 
this car was identified in removing the wreck, and lay flat upon the 
ice, with the water that had come from the melted snow and ice, 
mingled with ashes and cinders frozen over it, substantiating the 
above theory. 

Saturday morning, December 30th, when I read the report of the 
disaster, my heart sank within me, and I feared the worst. I imme 
diately telegraphed to Eome to know if Mr. Bliss had left. But 
about three o'clock in the afternoon, before any reply from Rome, Mr. 
BurchelPs telegram came, and we were face to face with the awful 
fact of their death. The next morning we were at Ash tabula, 
and remained for three days, until all the wreck had been removed, 
searching first for their bodies, then for anything that could be identi 
fied as having been connected with them. We found nothing ; and up 
to this time nothing has been found. Their watches, sleeve buttons, 
chains, keys, rings, not one thing connected with them has come 
to light. Scores of such articles have been raked up from the bot 
tom of the river, but none of them are theirs. They have gone, as 
absolutely and completely gone, as if translated like Enoch. 

Of the meeting with the stricken households, and the dear orphan 
boys, and the days of mourning passed with them, I cannot speak. 
God graciously manifested Himself in the comfort vouchsafed to the 
aged parents, and to brothers and sisters who shared their grief, and 
it was better indeed to be " in the house of mourning than the house 
of feasting." Some of the number there gathered were led to con 
secrate themselves to the work of Christ, and are now engaged in 
prosecuting the work of the dear departed brother in singing the 
Gospel. Many at the funeral service held in Rome were led to ac 
cept of Christ, and from all over the land has come testimony that 
Christ has been magnified in the death of His child as in his life. 
Scores, by the very fact of his death, have been impressed and turned 
to God. Hundreds will receive the truth through the pathos of 
memory of his death, giving new meaning to the truths of his 



songs. " God's ways are always right." No mistake has been made. 
We bow in submission to His will, and pray that this afflictive prov 
idence may be sanctified to us by the Spirit of God and that, " with 
windows open toward Jerusalem," we may live day by day, ready 
for " the coming of the King in His beauty," or for our departure 
to be with Him. "Amen, even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus." 

The following lines, printed upon a leaflet, were found in Mr. 
Bliss' trunk. He carried the leaf for a long time in his pocket- 
book, until creased and worn, and it was placed among his papers. 
God in grace grant to writer and to readers, that the message may 
be as appropriate as a voice from us, when we depart to be with 
Christ, as it surely is in every line from him. 


I shine in the light of God, Rev. xxi. 23. 

His likeness stamps my brow, 1 John iii. 2. 

Through the shadows of death my feet have trod, 1 Cor. xv. 55. 

And I reign in Glory now ! Rev. xxii. 5. 

No breaking heart is here, Matt. xxvi. 38. 

No keen and thrilling pain, Job xxxiii. 19. 

No wasted cheek, where the frequent tear Rev. xxi. 4. 

Hath roll'd and left its stain. Ps. xlii. 3. 

I have found the joys of Heaven, Is. xxxv. 1.0. 

I am one of the angel-band : Heb. xii. 22. 

To my head a crown of gold is given, 1 Pet. v. 4. 

And a harp is in my hand ! Ret), xiv. 2. 

I have learn'd the song they sing, Is. xxxviii 20. 

Whom Jesus hath set free ; John viii. 36. 

And the glorious walls of Heaven still ring Is. Ix. 18. 

With my new-born melody I Rev. xv. 3. 

No sin, no grief, no pain Is. xxv. 8. 

Safe in my happy home 1 John xiv. 2. 

My fears all ned, my doubts all slain, Acts vii. 55. 

My hour of triumph come ! Rom. viii. 37. 

O friends of mortal years, Prov. xvii. 17. 

The trusted and the trim ! 1 John i. 7. 

Ye are walking still through the valley of tears, Heb. x. 36. 

But I wait to welcome you. Luke xvi. 22. 


Do I forget ? Oh no ! Mai. iii. 16. 

For memory's golden chain 2 Pet. i. 15. 

Shall bind my heart to the hearts below, 1 John iv. 7. 

Till they meet and touch again. 1 Thess. iv. 13. 

Each link is strong and bright, John i. 61. 

And love's electric flame Dan ix. 21. 

Flows freely down like a river of light Rev. xxii. 1. 

To the world from which I came. 1 John iv. 9. 

l)o you mourn when another star 1 Cor. xv. 41. 

Shines out from the glittering sky ? Dan. xii. 3. 

Do you weep when the raging voice of war Deui, xxxii. 1. 

And the storms of conflict die ? Mark iv. 89. 

Then why do your tears run down, Luke viii. 52. 

And your hearts be sorely riven, Prov. xiv. 10. 

For another gem in the Savior's crown, Is. Ixii. 3. 

And another soul in Heaven? Luke xxiii. 43. 

Farewell, dear friend and brother, true yokefellow in the service 
of Jesus Christ. The path is often lonely without you, and as they 
sing the songs you used to sing, and we listen in vain for the voice 
so wedded to the music, and music so wedded to the words, our 
hearts ache as the echoes die away, and a strange silence is on the 
air, as if the song itself mourned for the singer. No resting place 
beneath the sod can receive the tears we would shed, or the flowers 
we would bring to tell how we loved thee. We turn from the 
earthly memories to the heavenly realities. The days are fast pass 
ing by ; soon upon the other shore we shall greet you, and you shall 
lead our praises to Him who hath redeemed us from our sins by His 
shed blood, and in His risen life hath given us resurrection hope, 
and to whom, even Jesus Christ our Lord, we now give all the 
praise for every sweet memory and for every precious anticipation 
of future joy connected with you. 






THE following, of Mr. Bliss' compositions, were published in 
" The Prize," a collection of Sunday School hymns, etc., by 
George F. Root, issued in 1870, and the words are used by permis 
sion of the publishers, Messrs. John Church & Co., Cincinnati, 


Press forward, press forward, press forward to the prize ; 
While life's bright morn, with rosy hue, 
Bedecks the flowers that, bathed with dew, 
Salute thy waking eyes, 
Press forward to the prize, 

Forward, forward, press forward to the prize, 
Forward, forward, press forward to the prize. 

Press forward, press forward, press forward to the prize ; 
When in the morn of life thy heart 
From heaven's high calling would depart, 

And doubts and fears arise, 

Press forward to the prize. 

Press forward, press forward, press forward to the prize; 
When morn and noon of life are past, 
And evening shadows lengthen fast, 
And swift the daylight flies, 
Press forward to the prize. 


Press forward, press forward, press forward to the prize 
Though sweet the songs we sing below, 
A richer Prize will heaven bestow, 
And there our treasure lies, 
Press forward to the prize. 


Hail, happy morning, hail, holy day I 
Calling from earthly labors away ; 
Sweet words of wisdom, glad songs of joy, 
Now be our best employ. 

CHORUS. Sing once more the happy, happy song, 

While the golden moments roll along, 
" Come to the temple, come, come away/' 
" Hallow the Sabbath day." 

Emblem of heaven, sweet day of rest, 
In thy " remembrance " may we be blest. 
So may our songs and lives ever say, 
"Hallow the Sabbath day." 

Rest from our labors, rest from our cares ; 
Rest in our praises, rest in our prayers 
So the commandment would we obey. 
" Hallow the Sabbath day." 


In the garden, boldly, 

Peter would have fought : 
Now he answers coldly, 
" Nay, I know Him not." 

CHORUS. I would stand forever 

Near my Savior's side, 
Lest to glory yonder 
I should be denied. 


Though life's stony pathway 

Be with dangers fraught, 
Let iny falt'rings never 

Say, " I know Him not." 

Though long years of sorrow 

Be iny earthly lot, 
Let my murm'rings never 

Say, " I know Him not." 

In the dark temptation, 

Vows and prayers forgot, 
Let my yielding never 

Say, " 1 know Him not." 

So, in toil or pleasure, 

Deed or word or thought, 
Let me never, never 

Say, " I know Him not." 


Winds are boist'rous, waves are high, 
Midnight gloom o'erspreads the sky ; 
Fearfu^ sinful, sinking down, 
Peter's prayer I make my own. 

CHORUS. Mountain waves of sin I see, 

In Thy mercy, " Lord, save me," 
Mountain waves of sin I see, 
In Thy mercy, " Lord, save me." 

Lord, Thou bidst me come to Thee, 
Thou alone my help must be ; 
On the treach'rous waves I stand, 
Savior, hold me by Thy hand. 

Lord, my feeble faith forgive, 
Help divine may I receive ; 
All my guilty fears remove, 
Wherefore can I doubt Thy love. 



Once more with mournful step and slow, 
Across the inurm'ring brook they go ; 
Once more beneath the olive's shade, 
The garden's well known paths they tread ; 
A Savior's sorrows we may mourn, 
For surely He our griefs hath borne. 

Each brow is sad, each heart with woe 

Is breaking, since He said, " I go." 

And see, a warlike band appears, 

And fainting hopes are crushed with f eara : 

Alas, our guilt His sorrow made, 

On Him was our transgression laid. 

Though all forsake the Lord and flee, 

Again He answers, " I am He." 

Again the falt'ring foes arise, 

The bitter cup He drinks and dies. 

A Savior's love behold revealed, 

And with His stripes we now are healed, 


Naught to charges false replying, 

In gentle mood, 
Hearing all, but naught denying, 

Our Savior stood. 

CHORUS. Gentle, lamb-like would I be, 

Savior, more and more like Thee. 

Priestly rage and perjured story, 

In vain are brought ; 
So, the mighty Lord of glory, 

Now answers not. 

While " Away with Him " they're crying, 

His cross they raise ; 
On that shameful cross, while dying, 

For them He prays. 



e< Wait in Jerusalem together," 
Wait, said the risen Lord ; 
Wait for the promise of the Father 
Ye from Me have heard. 

Wait for the power of His glory, 

Wait for His high commands ; 
Then shall ye spread abroad the story, 

In all distant lands. 

Thus, while the chosen who believed Him 

Gazed on the face of Love, 
So, from their sight a cloud received Him, 

Up to Heaven above. 

And while toward Heav'n they steadfastly gazed, 

Behold two men in white apparel 
Who said unto them : 

Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing ? 
Why are ye sorrowful ? Why do ye weep ? 
As ye have seen your Savior ascending, 
So in His glory shall He appear, He appear. 


Near the healing pool Bethesda, day by day, 
Where the gentle breezes through the porches play, 
Many weak and weary, halt and withered lay, 
Waiting for the moving of the water. 

CHORUS. Weary waiting at Bethesda's side, 
For the moving of the healing tide, 
Lord, from Thee be all my strength supplied, 
While waiting for the moving of the water. 

So in helpless misery and sin I lie, 
Hearing not the footstep of the angel nigh, 
Trembling, hoping, fearing lest at last I die, 
Waiting for the moving of the water. 


Jesus knows the mourner's grief and hears his sighs, 
Sees the look of anguish and the streaming eyes, 
Kindly speaks and bids the weary sufferer " Rise/' 
Waiting for the moving of the water. 

Loving Savior, all my weakness Thou dost see, 
Still Thy tender mercies, Lord, bestow on me, 
Speak the word, and let me stand complete in Thee, 
Waiting for the moving of the water. 


Through the valley of the shadow I must go, 

Where the cold waters of Jordan roll ; 
But the promise of my Shepherd will, I know, 

Be the rod and the staff to my soul. 
Even now, down the valley as I glide, 

I can hear my Savior say," Follow me t " 
And with Him I'm not afraid to cross the tide, 

There's a light in the valley for me. 

CHORUS. There's a light in the valley, 

There's a light in the valley for me, 
And no evil will I fear while my Shepherd is so nea* 
There's a light in the valley for me, for me. 

Now the rolling of the billows I can hear, 

As they beat on the turf -bound shore ; 
But the beacon light of love, so bright and clear, 

Guides my bark, frail and lone, safely o'er. 
1 shall find down the valley no alarms, 

For my Savior's blessed smile I can see ; 
He will bear me in His loving, mighty arms, 

There's a light in the valley for me. 


From the Mount of Olives descending, 

See the multitude draw nigh ; 
Low before the Holy One bending, 

Hear them all with rapture cry : 

CHORUS. Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord, 
Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna, in the highest . 


Some, their highest honor bestowing, 

Spread their garments in the way ; 
Others leafy branches are strewing; 

All, rejoicing, shout and say : 

All around the city are crying, 

" Who is this 1" " What priest or king ? " 

While within the temple replying 
Hear the children sweetly sing : 

We our truthful worship would give Thee, 

Humbly at Thy feet would fall, 
In our hearts would gladly receive Thee, 

Jesus, Savior, Lord of all. 


Where is now our loved one ? 

Where, where 1 
Not where the living weary, 

Not where the dying moan ; 
Not where the day is dreary, 

Not where the night is lone ; 
Not in a home of weeping, 

Not in a darkened room ; 
Not in a graveyard sleeping, 

Not in a silent tomb, 

No, not there ; no, not there 1 

Where is now our loved one ? 

Where, O where? 
Safe in a land immortal, 

Safe in a country rare, 
Safe in a heavenly portal, 

Safe in a mansion fair. 
Safe with the joys supernal, 

Safe with the bless'd to bow, 
Safe with the Love Eternal, 

Safe with the Master now, 

There, yes, there ; there, yes, there \ 



By the wayside, near the city, 

Sits a beggar, poor and blind ; 
Who can pass him without pity ? 

Who so careless and unkind? 
Now his sightless eyes upturning, 

Shaded by the leafy palms, 
Tears his wrinkled cheeks are burning, 

As he faintly asks for alms. 

CHORUS. Oh, we love the wondrous story, 

How the blind received their sight ; 
May the Lord of life and glory 
Lead us into heavenly light. 

Lo, the multitude draws near him ; 

" What means this ? " we hear him cry ; 
How the answer seems to cheer him. 

" It is Jesus passing by." 
Hear him crying " Mercy, mercy," 

Though rebuked by those before, 
" Jesus, Son of David, mercy," 

Hear him crying more and more. 

Now the blessed Master, standing, 

Hears the beggar's earnest cry, 
While in gentle tones commanding, 

" Bring the blind Bartimeus nigh." 
" What wilt thou ? " He asks, while o'er Him 

Falls a halo golden bright ; 
Low the beggar bends before Him 

" Lord, that I receive my sight." 

Hush ! the multitude are bending, 

Breathless in the fading light, 
While, his " saving faith " commending, 

Jesus says, " Receive thy sight ! " 
Joy ! he sees ; and, upward gazing, 

Hails the glorious light of day, 
And rejoicing, singing, praising, 

" Follows Jesus in the way." 



Through the crowded streets of Jericho, see 

The Holy Nazarene go, 
Hear the shout of praise from the happy ones there 

Who His healing virtues know. 

CHORUS. Praise ye the Lord, His mercies show, 

Ever in His love confide. 
More than we ask will He bestow, 
Willingly with us abide. 

In the friendly shade of a sycamore tree, 

The joyful publican see ; 
Hear the Master's voice saying, "Zaccheus, come, 

For I must abide with thee." 

Like an earnest little Zaccheus, I 

Would fain the Holy One see, 
1 would haste with joy at the blessed command, 

" For I must abide with Thee." 


" Go forth," said the Master, "and make no delay ; 
Invite to the banquet, invite all to-day ; 
The chosen have tarried, bring hither the blind, 
The poor and the needy ; leave no one behind." 

CHORUS. Now all things are ready, the Master says, " Come," 
The whole world is bidden, " and yet there is room." 
The whole world is bidden, the whole world is bidden, 
The whole world is bidden, "and yet there is room." 

Then quickly the servants went out from their Lord, 
His message they published with joyful accord. 
From highways and hedges they called to the feast, 
And welcomed with rapture each wondering guest. 

0, wayworn and weary, despise not the call, 
Reject not that mercy, 'tis free free to all ; 
Thy Father is waiting to welcome thee home ; 
Oh ! haste to the banquet while " yet there is room." 



Fading away, like the stars of the morning 

Losing their light in the glorious sun ; 
So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, 

Only remembered by what I have done. 

CHORUS. Ever remembered, forever remembered, 

Ever remembered while the years are rolling on ; 
Ever remembered, forever remembered, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

So let my name and my place be forgotten, 

Only my life-race be patiently run ; 
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, 

Only remembered by what I have done. 

So, in the harvest, if others may gather 

Sheaves from the fields that in spring I have sown ; 

Who plowed or sowed matters not to the reaper 
I'm only remembered by what I have done. 

Fading away like the stars of the morning, 
So let my name be unhonored, unknown ; 

Here, or up yonder, I must be remembered 
Only remembered by what I have done. 


Hear the blessed Savior say, 

Follow Me, follow Me, 

In the darkness and the day, follow, follow Me. 
Follow, though the torrents pour, 
Follow, though the lions roar, 
Follow, I have gone before ; 

Follow, follow Me. 

CHORUS. Oh, hear Him saying, 

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow Me. 
Blessed Savior, may we ever follow, follow Thee. 


When the tempter's voice is heard, 

Follow Me, follow Me, 
Rest upon My Holy Word, Follow, etc. 
All thy doubts and fears I know, 
All thy weariness and woe ; 
Forward humbly, boldly go. 

Follow, etc. 

Never shall thy foes prevail, 

Follow Me, follow Me. 
Never shall My promise fail. Follow, etc. 
Follow Me, let naught allure, 
Follow Me, thy rest is sure, 
Follow Me, it shall endure. 

Follow, etc. 


Look to Jesus, weary one, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Look at what the Lord has done, 

Look and live ; 
See Him lifted on the tree, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Hear Him say, " Look unto Me," 

Look and live. 

CHORUS. Look ! the Lord is lifted high, 
Look to Him, He's ever nigh, 
Look and live, why wil. ye die ? 
Look and live. 

Though unworthy, vile, unclean, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Look away from self and sin, 

Look and live. 
Long by Satan's power enslaved, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Look to Me, ye shall be saved, 

Look and live. 


Though you've wander'd far away, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Harden not your heart to-day, 

Look and live. 
Tis thy Father calls thee home, 

Look and live, look and live ; 
Whosoever will may come, 

Look and live. 


Earnestly the ruler on the Lord did call, 

Tenderly entreating at His feet did fall ; 
"My little daughter near to death doth lie, 

Come, Lord, and heal her, or she soon must die." 
" Trouble not the Master ;" soon they came and said, 
" Trouble not the Master, for thy daughter is dead." 

Sweetest words of comfort then did Jesus give, 
" Be not afraid, only believe." 

CHORUS. Call on the Lord, His mercies still endure ;* 
Call on the Lord, His promise still is sure ; 
Life, life eternal all may now receive. 
Be not afraid, only believe. 

In the darkened chamber bends the mother low, 
O'er her only daughter, with a mother's woe : 
Darkened now forever is her once bright home ; 
Tearfully she falters, " Has the Master come ? " 

" Wherefore are ye weeping? " 'tis the Master's voice ! 

" She is only sleeping," doth the mother's heart rejoice ; 
Trustingly the father says, " We will not grieve. 
Be not afraid, only believe." 

Quietly the Master bids the mourners go ; 
All a parent's tenderness His actions show; 
Ah, what holy rapture, oh, what glad surprise, 
At His gentle voice commanding, " Maid, arise." 
Courage, fainting mother, trust a loving Lord ; 
Courage, fearful brother, rest forever on His word ; 
Tender youth and age, in Him alone can live ; 
" Be not afraid, only believe." 



Words suggested by D. HAYDN LLOYD. Music by P. P. BLISS. 

Sowing their seed by the dawn-light fair, 
Sowing their seed in the noontide glare, 
Sowing their seed in the fading light, 
Sowing their seed in the solemn night, 
Oh, what shall the harvest be ? 

CHORUS. Sown in the darkness or sown in the light, 
Sown in our weakness or sown in our might 
Gathered in time or eternity, 
Sure, ah sure, will the harvest be. 

Sowing their seed by the wayside high, 
Sowing their seed on the rocks to die, 
Sowing their seed where the thorns will spoil 
Sowing their seed in the fertile soil, 
Oh, what shall the harvest be ? 

Sowing the seed of a lingering pain, 
Sowing the seed of a maddened brain, 
Sowing the seed of a tarnished name, 
Sowing the seed of eternal shame 
Ah, sure will the harvest be ! 

Sowing their seed with an aching heart, 
Sowing their seed while the tear-drops start, 
Sowing in hope till the reapers come, 
Gladly to gather the harvest home. 
Oh, what shall the harvest be? 


Though its ruby blush so fair 

In the silver cup be cast, 
Of the deadly "serpent's sting " beware, beware, 

'Twill pierce thy soul at last. 

CHORUS. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red ; 

When it moveth itself aright, 
All the light and beauty now around it shed 
Soon will end in sorrow's night. 


'Tis a "mocker," luring on, 
With its "raging," fiery breath, 

And its burning work is never, never done, 
Its flames are flames of death. 

Tarry not, resolve to-day 
From the blighting curse to flee ; 

'Tis the voice of wisdom calls away, away ; 
Be bold, be firm, be free. 


" By their fruits ye shall know them," the Savior's words we read, 

And He looks from His mansions above, 
And He knows if our hearts have received the precious seed, 
For the fruit of the Spirit is Love. 

CHORUS. Oh, the fruits of the Spirit are pure, 

May they all be found in me, in me, 
May my heart and my life ever yield the golden fruits 
Of the beautiful Spirit Tree. 

Though the dark clouds of sorrow surround us as they may, 

And the pitfalls of passion annoy ; 
Still believing, rejoicing, we onward press our way, 

For the fruit of the Spirit is Joy. 

Though on seas of affliction our little bark be tossed, 

Though the high rolling billows increase, 
Still with hope for our anchor we never can be lost, 

And the fruit of the Spirit is Peace. 

Other fruits in their season we never fail to find, 

If with eyelids unsealed we can see ; 
All that's gentle and tender, long-suffering and kind, 

Is the fruit of this beautiful tree. 

In the sunlight of heaven the waving branches glow, 

Shedding perfume and gladness around ; 
Naught of evil or danger the dwellers 'neath it know, 

For with Goodne ; s its branches are crowned. 


Sometimes, trembling and doubting, our home seems far' away, 

And the leaves of the tree dry and sere ; 
But the sweet fruits of Faith oil the topmost branches sway, 

Bringing joys of the better land near. 

Bringing hope to the weary and comfort to the sad, 

Bearing promise of heavenly birth ; 
Making joyful the lowlands, the desert places glad, 

For " the meek shall inherit the earth." 

Naught impure or unholy the Spirit Tree can bear ; 

Evil trees evil fruits only show ; 
No profane or intemp'rate the purer life can share, 

Or the fruits of the Spirit Tree know. 


Hear the music of the rain falling down 
On the roof and window pane, falling down. 
Murmur not, it seems to say, 
For our Father's love to-day 
Orders only in our way 

Good to fall, 

Like the gentle falling rain 
Over mountain, lake and plain, 
Will His tender care remain 

Over all. 

CHORUS. Hear the music of the rain, beautiful rain, 

As the pearly drops in showers pattering fall. 

Hear the sweet subdued refrain, 

On the roof and window pane, 

Of our Father's tender love for all. 

Hear the music of the rain falling down, 
On the roof and window pane, falling down. 
What a lesson does it bring, 
What a chorus does it sing, 

What a message from our King of His love. 
And we seem to hear Him say, 
Come, ye children, learn My way, 

From My fold no longer stray. Look above. 


Hear the music of the rain falling down, 
On the roof and window pane, falling down. 
So our Father, kind and true, 
Showers of blessings, ever new, 

On the good and evil, too, stUl doth send ; 
And a cheerful song we raise, 
To His honor and His praise, 

For the love that crowns ou* da.r v the end. 



JN 1871, "The Charm, a Collection of Sunday School Music, by 
P. P. Bliss," was published. By permission of the publishers, 
Messrs. Church & Co., Cincinnati, we print the following hymns 
by Mr. Bliss : 


Charms in choral numbers, 

Charms in martial strains, 
Charms in social chorus, 

Charms in glad refrain. 

CHORUS. But no other charms can be 

Like my Savior's charms to me ; 

Lovely charms 

Lasting charms, 
Are my Savior's charms to me. 

Charms in sanctus holy, 

Charms in festal lays, 
Charms in freedom's anthem, 

Charms in childhood's praise. 

Charms in harp and organ, 

Charms in reed and string, 
Charms in trumpet pealing, 

Charms in everything. 



ON a dark, stormy night, when the waves rolled like mountains and not a star was to 
be seen, a boat, rocking and plunging, neared the Cleveland harbor. " Are you sure this is 
Cleveland ?" asked the captain, seeing only one light from the light-house. " Quite sure, 
sir," replied the pilot. " Where are the lower lights ? " " Gone out, sir." il Can you make 
the harbor ? " lt We must, or perish, sir ! v And with a strong hand and a brave heart, the old 
pilot turned the wheel. But alas, in the darkness he missed the channel, and with a crash 
upon the rocks the boat was shivered, and many a life lost in a watery grave. Brethren, the 
Master will take care of the great light-house : let its keep the lower lights burning f D. L. 


Brightly beams Our Father's mercy 

From His Light-House evermore; 
But to us He gives the keeping 

Of the lights along the shore. 

CHORUS. Let the lower lights be burning ! 
Send a gleam across the wave ; 
Some poor, fainting, struggling seaman 
You may rescue, you may save. 

Dark the night of sin has settled, 

Loud the angry billows roar ; 
Eager eyes are watching, longing 

For the lights along the shore. 

Trim your feeble lamp, my brother. 

Some poor sailor, tempest-tost, 
Trying now to make the harbor, 

In the darkness, may be lost. 


O, Jerusalem, the golden city bright and fair ; 
All the sanctified, the purified, the glorified are there ; 
There the Savior we shall see, and His glory we shall share, 
In Jerusalem so bright and fair. 

CHORUS. Jerusalem, so fair ! O Jerusalem so fair ! 

All the sanctified, the purified, the glorified are there ; 
There the Savior we shall see, and His glory we shall share, 
In Jerusalem so bright and fair. 

HELP. 115 

O Jerusalem, the golden city of the blest ; 
Where the glory beams eternal on thy towers in beauty drest ; 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, the weary are at rest, 
In Jerusalem so bright and fair. 

O Jerusalem, the golden city fair and bright : 
How thy pearly gates in splendor soon will burst upon our sight; 
How thy golden streets will glow, for the Lamb is all the light, 
In Jerusalem so bright and fair. 


*' Victory, victory ! " hear the angels say, 
When a gentle word turns angry thoughts away ; 
Though the stormy battle-field a little heart may be, 
'Tis a mighty conflict, 'tis a glorious victory. 

CHORUS. How goes the battle, then, what news to-day? 
One side is gaining ground one giving way 1 
Rally for the right, oh, battle manfully, 
Let the blessed angel band shout the victory. 
44 Victory, Victory," Zion shall be free, 
Let the blessed angel band shout the victory. 

*' Victory, victory ! " shout the evil throng, 
When a little heart gives room to purpose wrong ; 
Then the holy angel bands do sadly turn away ; 
"' Victory, our victory ! " the evil spirits say. 

" Victory, victory ! " soon we all may sing, 
" Glory be to Thee, Lord, our heavenly King ! 
Thou hast overthrown the last, the dreaded enemy ; 
Thine alone, the battle, Lord, be Thine the victory." 


Help me to sing, 

Savior and King ; 

Heart service only to Thee would I bring. 


Help me to read, 
Thy grace I need, 
Lest I offend Thee in thought, word or deed, 

Help me to pray ; 

Guard lest I stray ; 

Keep Thou my feet in the heavenward way. 

Help I implore, 

Thee to adore ; 

Praise would I render to Thee evermore. 


"For whom is the bell tolling ? " I asked a man at the church door. 
He replied, " Only a little child." 

' " Only a little child," 
Pause not here to weep ; 
Scarcely on earth she smiled, 
Ere she fell asleep, 
Fell asleep. 

"Only a little child," 

God to us had given ; 

Pure and undefiled, 

Only fit for heaven. 

Fit for heaven. 

" Only a little child," 
That our love possessed, 
That our cares beguiled, 
That is now at rest, 
Now at rest. 

" Only a little child," 
Such as Jesus blessed, 
We were unreconciled, 
Only He thought best, 
FTft thought best. 



See the gentle Shepherd standing 

Where the quiet waters flow ; 
gf To the pastures green inviting, 
Hungry, thirsty, let us go. 

CHORUS. Where He leads we will follow, 
Where He leads we will follow, 
Where He leads we will follow, 
We will follow all the way. 

Only by the door we enter, 

All who enter He will save ; 
Life abundantly bestowing, 

Though His life the Shepherd gave. 

Safe within the fold He leads us, 
He the Shepherd, we His own ; 

And as Him the Father knoweth, 

Precious thought of Him we're known. 


Little thought Samaria's daughter, 

On that ne'er forgotten day, 
That the tender Shepherd sought her, 

As a sheep astray ; 
That from sin He longed to win her 

Knowing more than she could tell, 
Of the wretchedness within her, 

Wailing at the well. 

CHOBUS. Hear, O hear ! the wondrous story, 
Let the winds and waters tell 
'Tis the Christ, the King of Glory, 
Waiting at the well. 

'Neath the stately palm tree swaying, 
Listened she to words of truth, 

While each thought was backward straying, 
O'er her wasted youth. 


Hast'ning homeward with desire 
All His wondrous speech to tell. 

Asked she, " Is not the Messiah 
Waiting at the well?" 

Yet salvation's well is flowing-, 

And the Savior listens there 
Every want and care foreknowing 

To our humble prayer. 
By His gracious smile of favor, 

While our hearts with rapture swell,, 
Well we know it is the Savior, 

Waiting at the well. 


Behold the love of God, wondrous love, wondrous love. 
On sinful man bestowed, wondrous love. 

CHORUS. Herein, herein is lave ; 
The Father from above 
His Son did give that we might live I 
Oh wondrous, wondrous love. 

His love is full and free, wondrous love, wondrous love, 
'Tis offered you and me ; wondrous love. 

No merit of our own ; wondrous love, wondrous love, 
He saves by grace alone ; wondrous love. 

He offers life to-day ; wondrous love, wondrous love, 
Accept it while ye may ; wondrous love. 


On what foundation do you build, neighbor, 

Your hopes for the future fair 1 
Do your walls reach down to the rock below, 

And rest securely there? 
Sad wrecks lie 'round you on the sand, neighbor, 

The floods and the storms are near ; 


Will the strong blast hurl to the earth thy walls, 
Or blanch thy cheek with fear ? 

CHORUS. On what foundation do you build, neighbor, 

Your hopes for the future fair ? 
Do your walls reach down to the rock below, 
And rest securely there ? 

On sure foundation would you build, neighbor ? 

Take heed to the Lord's commands ; 
Ever fast and firm, while the storms go by, 

This Rock of Ages stands. 
Alas ! what folly 'tis to build, neighbor, 

A mansion so fair, so grand, 
With its costly walls and its lofty towers, 

On Sin's delusive sand. 


" SOME ships cross the ocean with clear skies, smooth seas and fair winds, and come into 
port with streamers flying and bands of music making jubilee. Others come in storms, with 
the skies black as night, the wind like a hurricane, and the sea like mountains and they 
come in all battered, yards gone, masts splintered, hardly enough left to hang together. But 
the difference amounts to nothing. The only important thing from first to last is, not what 
the log says about storm or calm, but that they all steer close to the compass, and do their 
best to make the harbor. So they only get there safely, what happened to them by the way is 
of no account. So as to God's children. There may, there will be vast variety of experience : 
to some, prosperity, success, joy to others, adversity, defeat, grief. But what may be your 
lot or mine, is of no consequence. The one only thing of moment is, that we stick close to 
our chart and push for port with all our might. So we gain that, the pleasures or perils of the 
way do not matter." Extract from a sermon preached by Dr. E. P. Goodwin, First Congrega 
tional Church, Chicago. 

Sailor, though the darkness gathers, 

Though the cold waves surge and moan, 
Trust thy bark to God's great mercy, 
Falter not, sail on, sail on. 

CHORUS. Sailing into port, what matter, 

Drooping sail or shattered mast ? 
Glory, glory fills the harbor, 
There we'll anchor safe at last. 

Sailor, though with streamers flying 
Yonder proud ship mounts the foam, 

And with bands of music playing, 
Gains the port and welcome home. 


Sailor, though the lightning flashes, 
Though thy sails be rent and torn, 

Peace shall come on Hope's bright pinions 
And deliverance with the morn. 


Over yonder, over yonder, 

Where the saints and angels dwell, 
Over yonder, over yonder 

Is the home I love so well. 
There my loved ones wait to greet me, 

Wait to clasp me by the hand. 
There my Savior, too, will meet me, 

Meet me in Immanuel's land. 

Over yonder, over yonder, 

Stands my mansion bright and fair ; 
All the glory, all the glory 

Of the kingdom I shall share. 
By the tree of life eternal, 

Crystal streams forever flow ; 
While the leaves of healing mercy 

On its waving branches grow. 

Over yonder, over yonder, 

Sin and sorrow are unknown : 
Hallelujahs, Hallelujahs, 

Evermore surround the throne. 
Never will I fear the journey 

Through the dark and shadowy vale ; 
For my Savior will be near me, 

Never can His promise fail. 


Tig winter, and ye by your fireside so warm 

May feel not the blast of the pitiless storm; 

But cold winds are sweeping o'er mountain and moor, 

And lone ones are starving Remember the poor. 

Remember the poor, 

Remember the poor. 
And lone ones are starving Remember the poor. 


To one of the least, in My name," saitli the Lord, 
No visit of mercy shall lose its reward ; " 
But measure for measure shall earth-life restore, 
And treasure in heaven Remember the poor. 

Remember the poor, 

Remember the poor. 
And treasure in heaven Remember the poor. 

Oh, give of thy bounty, thy gratitude show ; 

So freely receiving, as freely bestow ; 

In mansions so fair on the evergreen shore, 

Would you be remembered ? Remember the poor. 

Remember the poor, 

Remember the poor. 
Would you be remembered ? Remember the poor. 


TEACHER. What do the beautiful roses say? 
SCHOLARS. Sweet is our perfume, but short is our stay ; 

TEACHER. What says the humming bird, do you know ? 
SCHOLARS. Winter is coming and soon I must go. 

ALL. Passing away, Passing away ; 

Second and minute and hour and day ! 
Birdie and blossom, how brief is your stay ; 
Passing away, passing away. 

TEACHER. What says the clock, with its tick-a-tick, tick ? 
SCHOLARS. Time passes swiftly, be quick, oh, be quick ! 

TEACHER. What are the words of the rivulet's song? 
SCHOLARS. I cannot tarry, I must run along. 

TEACHER. What does the sun in the morning say ? 
SCHOLARS. Over I go for another bright day. 

TEACHER. What does your heart by its beating tell ? 
SCHOLARS. Earth-life is passing, then where will I dwell ? 


God is always near me, 

Hearing what I say ; 
Knowing all my thoughts and deeds, 

All my work and play. 


God is always near me, 

In the darkest night 
He can see me j ust the same 

As by mid-day light. 

God is always near me, 

Though so young and small ; 
Not a look or word or thought, 

But God knows it all. 


Hark ! I hear the captain calling, 

Earnestly and long : 
41 Rocks ahead ! the breakers threaten ! 
Bear a hand Be strong ! " 

CHORUS. Man the life-boat, blaze the signal ! 

Never can we fail ; 
No, the nation must be rescued, 
Ternp'rance shall prevail ! 

Firm amid the storm and danger, 

Faithful, tried and true 
Though a mighty host opposes 

Stand the Temp'rance crew. 

Loud the billows dash around us, 

O'er the angry sea ; 
Night comes on and souls are dying, 

Will ye idle be? 


The temp'rance ship is sailing on ; 

Sailing on, 

Sailing on, 
The temp'rance ship is sailing on 

Though angry billows roar. 
To bless the world she's sailing on, 

Sailing on, 

Sailing on. 

To bless the world she's sailing on, 
To reach a fairer shore. 


CHORUS. Oh, rally, freemen, rally ! 

Do you hear the fearful cry ? 
'Tis the solemn wail of warning 

From the drunkard doomed to die 
'Tis the prayer of wife and mother, 
"Pis the shriek of anguish wild ; 
" Will you help a falling brother 
Will you save my darling child ? " 

The mountain waves are rolling high, 

Boiling high, 

Rolling high, 

The mountain waves are rolling high, 

The pirate fleet is strong. 
We call for men to do or die, 
Do or die, 
Do or die, 

We call for men to do or die 
To crush the mighty wrong. 

Arise, young man, for you must fight, 

You must fight, 

You must fight, 
Arise, young man, for you must fight, 

A foe that seems a friend. 
The well worn way that seemeth right, 

Seemeth right, 

Seemeth right, 

The well worn way that seemeth right, 
Alas ! in death doth end. 

Ho, friends of temp'rance, firmly stand, 

Firmly stand, 

Firmly stand, 
Ho, friends of temp'rance, firmly stand, 

To meet the daring foe. 
For God, for Truth, for Native Land, 

Native Land, 

Native Land, 

For God, for Truth, for Native Land 
We dare to strike the blow. 

We see the blinded rush along, 

Rush along, 

Rush along, 
We see the blinded rush along, 


The broad and downward way. 
Then raise at least a prayer or song, 
Prayer or song, 
Prayer or song, 

Then raise at least a prayer or song 
To save them while we may. 


'Tis a rule in the land that when travelers meet, 

Travelers meet, 
In highway or byway, in alley or street, 

Alley or street, 
On foot or in wagon, by day or by night, 

Each favors the other and turns to the right 

What a wonderful measure of trouble we'd shun, 

Trouble we'd shun, 
If all the humanity under the sun, 

Under the sun, 

While passing each other were truly polite, 
And wishing " Good morrow," would turn to the right. 

What a pity when selfishness stands in the way, 

Stands in the way, 
And hinders one's hearing what Wisdom would say, 

Wisdom would say ; 

There's joy on the journey, the end is delight, 
To those in life's highway who turn to the right. 


Day by day we saw her failing, 

As the summer time went by ; 
And the world grew dark and lonely 

When we knew that she must die. 
Still her heart seemed fondly clinging 

To the blessed promise given : 
" I am not afraid," she whispered, 

" For 'tis but a step to heaven." 


CHORUS. Nearer, nearer come the angels, 

Till the earth worn bands are riven ; 
Nearer, nearer, seems the glory, 
Till 'tis but a step to heaven. 

In the Savior's mercy trusting, 
Walking closely by His side ; 
Scarcely did she hear the rippling 

Of the darkly flowing tide 
" Do not grieve" sweet words of comfort 

To her weeping mother given : 
" I am not afraid," she whispered, 
" For 'tis but a step to heaven." 

" Do not sing to me of heaven 

As a home far, far away ; 
'Tis a narrow stream divides us, 

We may cross it in a day. 
Only let me cling to Jesus, 

To the blessed word He's given ; 
Then my soul is filled with glory, 

Then 'tis but a step to heaven." 



And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, hlessed are the dead which die ia 
the Lord : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do fol 
low them. 

Hark, on the shore of " Imraanuera Land," 
Shout the " Triumphant " and glorified band ; 
Singing as only the ransomed can sing 
Sweet hallelujah, to Jesus their King. 
Amen, Amen, Amen. 

" Farewell," we sigh, as our friends leave the strand, 
" Welcome," they sing in " Immanuel's Land." 

Mourning below is rejoicing above ; 

We tell of sorrow while they sing of love. 

Lovingly called from his labors below ; 
Suddenly summoned, but ready to go : 
Laying the cross and the life burden down, 
Gladly receiving the robe and the crown. 


Not without hope are we mourning to-day ; 
" Thy will be done," we are trying to say : 
Here 'neath the " Shadowy Rock " we will rest 
God is " Our Father," and His ways are best. 


TEACHER. Little eyes, 

Looking wise, 

Have you said your morning prayer? 
Have you thought, 
As you ought, 

Of our Heavenly Father's care ? 
Tell me what our prayer should be 
When the morning light we see ? 

ALL. Pleasant light, 

Clear and bright, 
Shining on the world to-day. 
So may love 
From above 

Shine along our upward way ; 
So let every thing we see 
Turn our thoughts, O Lord, to Thee. 

ALL. Water clear, 

Standing near ; 

Wash our hands and faces clean. 
May the Lord, 
By his word, 

Wash our hearts from every sin. 
So let everything we see 
Turn our thoughts, O Lord, to Thee. 

GIRLS. Cloak and hood, 

New and good, 

Made to keep our bodies warm. 
Words of truth, 
Learned in youth, 
Keep our souls from every harm. 
So let every thing we see 
Turn our thoup-hta. O Lord, 


BOYS. Boot or shoe, 

Old or new, 

Let us keep them clean and neat ; 
Let us pray, 
That we may 

Some day walk the golden street ; 
So let everything we see 
Turn our thoughts, O Lord, to Thee. 

GIRLS. Collar white, 

Ribbons bright ; 
Apron, bonnet, shawl or dress ; 

So may we 

Ever be 
Clad in Jesus' righteousness ; 

So let everything we see 

Turn our thoughts, Lord, to Thee. 

BOYS. Top or ball, 

Treasures all ; 
Books and toys 1 dearly prize ; 

Yet may I, 

When 1 die, 
To my heavenly treasures rise ; 

So let everything we see 

Turn our thoughts, Lord, to Thee. 

ALL. Night or day, 

Work or play ; 
In our hearts may be a prayer ; 

God can see, 

If there be 
Well He knows what thoughts are there 

So let everything we see 

Turn our thoughts, O Lord, to Thee. 


Only a few more years, 
Only a few more cares ; 

Only a few more smiles and tears, 
Only a few more prayers : 


Only a few more wrongs, 
Only a few more signs : 

Only a few more earthly songs 
Only a few good-byes : 

Then an eternal stay, 
Then an eternal throng ; 

Then an eternal glorious day, 
Then an eternal song. " 





" "YTTHOSOEVER Will may Come/' was written during the 
VV winter of 1869 and '70, after hearing Henry Moorhouse, 
of England, preach from the text, " God so loved the world that 
He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
should not perish but have everlasting life/' John iii, 16. Mr Moor- 
house preached every night for a week from this same text, and the 
new views of the f reeness and fullness of the invitation of the Gospel 
to sinners that many Christians in Chicago at that time received, 
are well expressed in Mr. Bliss' hymn : 


"Whosoever hearetli," Shout, shout the sound ! 
Send the blessed tidings all the world around ; 
Spread the joyful news wherever man is found, 
" Whosoever will may come." 

CHORUS. " Whosoever will, whosoever will," 

Send the proclamation over vale and hill ; 
'Tis a loving Father calls the wand'rer home ; 
" Whosoever will may come." 

Whosoever cometh need not delay ; 

Now the door is open, enter while you may ; 

Jesus is the true, the only living way ; 

" Whosoever will may come." 


" Whosoever will," the promise secure ; 
" Whosoever will," forever must endure ; 
" Whosoever will," 'tis life forever more 
" Whosoever will may come." 

I think it was in June, 1870, that " Jesus Loves Me" was writ 
ten. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were at the time members of my family, 
at 43 South May street, Chicago. One morning, Mrs. Bliss came 
down to breakfast and said, as she entered the room : " Last even 
ing, Mr. Bliss had a tune given him that I think is going to live 
and be one of the most used that he has written. I have been sing 
ing it all the morning to myself and cannot get it out of my mind." 
She then sang over to us the notes of " Jesus Loves Me." The 
idea of Mr. Bliss in writing it was that the peace and comfort of a 
Christian were not founded upon his loving Christ, but upon Christ's 
love to him, and that to occupy the mind with Christ's love, would 
produce love and consecration in keeping with Romans v, 5 : " The 
love of God (to us) is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, 
which is given to us." This view of Gospel truth was at this time 
being very preciously brought to the souls of believers in Chicago 
by the preaching of Moorhouse and Mr. Moody and by the Dublin 
tracts and English Commentaries upon Gospel Truth, which, 
through Mr. Moody, began to be circulated among Christians. 
How much God has used this little song to lead sinners and fearful 
timid Christians to " look away to Jesus" eternity alone can tell. 


I am so glad that Our Father in Heaven 
Tells of His love in the Book He has given ; 
Wonderful things in the Bible I see, 
This is the dearest, that Jesus loves me. 

CHORUS. I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 
Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me, 
I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 
Jesus loves even me. 

Though I forget Him and wander away, 
Kindly He follows wherever I stray, 
Back to His dear loving arms would I flee. 
When I remember that Jesus loves me. 


Oh, if there's only one song I can sing, 
When in His beauty I see the great King ; 
This shall my song in eternity be, 
O what a wonder that Jesus loves me. 

"Blessed are They that Do His Commandments." The verse 
in Eev. xxii, 14, suggested this hymn. The tune was a favorite 
with Mr." Bliss, but after he learned more fully the fullness of the 
Gospel, he was dissatisfied with the words on account of the impres 
sion they left that the right to the tree of life was secured by our 
doing. It seemed clear to him that the translation of the verse in 
question claimed by many of the commentators, " Blessed are they 
that have washed their robes, that they may have right to the tree of 
life," etc., must be the correct one, and it took away all Scrip 
ture authority for the teaching of his hymn in that direction. The 
truth presented in the Scriptures as to saved ones walking in the 
path of obedience, he could with a little change have taught in the 
hymn, and this he intended doing. During his last week in Kome, 
he called the attention of his brother-in-law, Mr. Young, to the 
above points of objection to the words, and said : "I cannot use it 
as it is. I see so clearly its contradiction of the Gospel that I have 
no liberty in singing it, and must make a change in it before it goes 
into another book." This was the only hymn he has written, that 
I am aware of, that is liable to criticism in this direction : 


Hear the words our Savior hath spoken, 

Words of life unfailing and true ; 
Careless one, prayerless one, hear and remember, 

Jesus says, " Blessed are they that do." 

CHORUS. Blessed are they that do His commandments, 
Blessed, blessed, blessed are they. 

All in vain we hear His commandments. 

All in vain His promises too ; 
Hearing them, fearing them never can save us, 

Blessed, oil, blessed are they that do. 


They with joy may enter the city, 

Free from sin, from sorrow and strife ; 

Sanctified, glorified, now and forever, 
They may have right to the Tree of Life." 

"Free from the Law." Just before Christmas, 1871, Mrs. Bliss 
asked a friend, " What shall I get for my husband as a Christmas 
present ? " and, at the suggestion of this friend, purchased and 
presented him with the bound volume of a monthly English peri 
odical called Things New and Old. Many things in these books of 
interpretation of Scripture and illustrations of Gospel truth were 
blessed to him, and from the reading of something in one of these 
books, in connection with Eomans viii, and Hebrews x, 10, sug 
gested this glorious Gospel song : 


Free from the law, oh, happy condition ! 
Jesus hath bled and there is remission ; 
Cursed by the law and bruised by the fall, 
Grace hath redeemed us once for all. 

CHORUS. Once for all, oh, sinner, receive it, 
Once for all, oh, brother, believe it : 
Cling to the Cross, the burden will fall ; 
Christ hath redeemed us, once for all. 

Now are we free there's no condemnation ; 
Jesus provides a perfect salvation, 
" Come unto Me," oh hear His sweet call, 
Come and He saves us, once for all. 

" Children of God ! " oh, glorious calling 1 
Surely His grace will keep us from falling, 
Passing from death to life at His calling, 
Blessed salvation, once for all. 

"Only an Armor-Bearer" was suggested by the account of 
Jonathan's going up against Michmash, as given in I Samuel, xiv : 



Only an armor-bearer, proudly I stand, 
Waiting to follow at the King's command ; 
Marching, if Onward shall the order be, 
Standing by my Captain, serving faithfully. 

CHORUS. Hear ye the battle cry, " Forward," the call ! 

See! see the faltering ones, backward they fall. 
Surely the Captain may depend on me, 
Though but an armor-bearer I may be. 

Only an armor-bearer, now in the field, 
Guarding a shining helmet, sword and shield, 
Waiting to hear the thrilling battle-cry, 
Ready then to answer, " Master, here am I." 

Only an armor-bearer, yet may I share 
Glory immortal, and a bright crown wear : 
If, in the battle, to my trust I'm true, 
Mine shall be the honors in the Grand Review. 


" We watched the wreck with great anxiety. The life-boat had 
been out some hours, but could not reach the vessel through the 
great breakers that raged and foamed on the sand-bank. The boat 
appeared to be leaving the crew to perish. But in a few minutes the 
Captain and sixteen sailors were taken off, and the vessel went down. 

"'When the life-boat came to you, did you expect it had 
brought some tools to repair your old ship ? ' I said. 

" ' Oh, no, she was a total wreck. Two of her masts were gone, 
and if we had stayed mending her only a few minutes, we must 
have gone down, sir.' 

" ( When once off the old wreck and safe in the life-boat, what 
remained for you to do ?' 

" 'Nothing, sir, but just to pull for the shore." 1 

" Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature : old 
things are passed away ; behold, all things are become new." 


" "Wherefore, my beloved, * * * work out your own salva 
tion with fear and trembling." Things New and Old. 

Light in the darkness, sailor, day is at hand ! 
See o'er the foaming billows fair Haven's land. 
Drear was the voyage, sailor, now almost o'er ; 
Safe within the life-boat, sailor, pull for the shore. 

CHORUS. Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore ! 

Heed not the rolling wave, but bend to the oar ; 
Safe in the life-boat, sailor, cling to self no more ! 
Leave the poor old stranded wreck and pull for the shore. 

Trust in the life-boat, sailor, all else will fail, 

Stronger the surges dash and fiercer the gale ; 

Heed not the stormy winds, though loudly they roar ; 

Watch the " bright and morning star," and pull for the shore. 

Bright gleams the morning, sailor, uplift the eye ; 
Clouds and darkness disappearing, glory is nigh ; 
Safe in the life-boat, sailor, sing evermore ; 
" Glory, glory, hallelujah ! " pull for the shore. 

"I Know not the Hour when my Lord will Come." These 
words, Mr. Bliss has told me, were suggested to him in reading the 
book " Gates Ajar " and criticisms upon it. His idea was that what 
we may know from the Scripture, that we shall be with the Lord, 
is sufficient, and that we may be happily content in saying of all 
that is mere speculation, "/ know not," offsetting it by. what we 
are permitted to say " / know." The music for the words was com 
posed by his friend, James McGranahan, while visiting Mr. Bliss. 
Both Mr. and Mrs. Bliss loved the song very much and often sang 
it together, and have both told me of how the tune came to Mi\ 
McGranahan. Mr. Bliss had handed him the words and asked him 
to see what he could get for a tune. He worked upon it a long 
time, making harmonies and trying to satisfy himself with some 
thing that would properly express the words, but without success. 
When supper time came he did not care for supper, and when bed 
time came they all went to their rooms leaving him in the parlor at 
the piano. He worked away for some time, but, dissatisfied with the 


result, lay down upon the floor and fell into a doze. After a little 
time he woke up, and the tune, chorus and all had come different 
from the harmonies he had worked upon, but just the thing. In 
the morning he sang it to Bliss, who was delighted with it and im 
mediately adopted it for use. 


I know not the hour when my Lord will come 

To take me away to His own dear home ; 

But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 

And that will be glory for me. 
Yes, that will be glory, oh, that will be glory, be glory for me ; 

And that will be glory for me, 

Oh, that will be glory for me ; 

Yes, that will be glory, oh, that will be glory for me ; 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 

And that will be glory for me. 

I know not the song that the angels sing, 

I know not the sound of the harp's glad ring : 

But I know there'll be mention of Jesus our King, 

And that will be music for me. 
Yes, that will be music, oh, that will be music, be music for me ; 

And that will be music for me, 

Oh, that will be music for me ; 

Yes, that will be music, oh, that will be music for jne ; 
But I know there'll be mention of Jesus our King, 

And that will be music for me. 

I know not the form of my mansion fair, 

I know not the name that I then shall bear ; 

But I know that my Savior will welcome me there, 

And that will be heaven for me. 
Yes, that will be heaven, oh, that will be heaven, be heaven for me ; 

And that will be heaven for me, 

Oh, that will be heaven for me ; 

Yes, that will be heaven, oh, that will be heaven for me ; 
But I know that my Savior will welcome me there, 

And that will be heaven for me. 

" Down Life's dark Vale We Wander " was written in Peoria, 
Illinois I think in 1872. It was suggested by a conversation with 


Mrs. Wm. Eeynolds and Mrs. Tyng upon the subject of our Lord's 
personal return. One of the ladies quoted a sentence from a work 
of Anna Shiptou's as to the joy and comfort it gave her, day by 
day, to think each morning at sunrise, " This maybe the day of His 
coming." Mr. Bliss was much impressed more deeply so than 
ever before by the reality of the subject, and a few days after, as 
he was coming down stairs from his room with the thought of look 
ing for the Lord upon his mind, he commenced singing "Down 
life's dark vale Ve wander," the words coming to him as easily as 
the steps he took down the stairs. He at once wrote it out with 
the music as now sung. 


Down life's dark vale we wander, 

Till Jesus comes ; 
We watch and wait and wonder, 

Till Jesus comes. 
Oh, let my lamp be burning, 

When Jesus comes ; 
For Him my soul be yearning, 
When Jesus comes. 

CHOIUJS. All joy His lov'd ones bringing, 

When Jesus comes : 
All praise through heaven ringing, 

When Jesus comes. 
All beauty bright and vernal, 

When Jesus comes, 
All glory, grand, eternal, 

When Jesus comes. 

No more heart- pangs nor sadness, 

When Jesus comes ; 
All peace and joy and gladness, 

When Jesus comes. 
All doubts and fears will vanish, 

When Jesus comes ; 
All gloom His face will banish, 

When Jesus comes. 

He'll know the way 'was dreary, 

When Jesus comes ; 
He'll know the feet grew weary, 

When Jesus comes. 


He'll know what griefs oppressed me, 

When Jesus comes ; 
Oh, how His arms will rest me ! 

When Jesus comes. 

et The Light of the World is Jesus" was written in the summer 
of 1875, at his home, No. 664 West Monroe street, Chicago. It 
came to him all together, words and music, one morning while pass 
ing through the hall to his room, and was at once written out. 


11 1 am the light of the world." JOHN ix, 5. 

The whole world was lost in the darkness of sin ; 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 
Like sunshine at noonday His glory shone in ; 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 

CHORUS. Come to the Light, 'tis shining for thee ; 
Sweetly the Light has dawned on me. 
Once I was blind, but now I can see ; 
The Light of the World is Jesus. 

No darkness have we who in Jesus abide ; 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 
We walk in the Light when we follow our Guide ; 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 

Ye dwellers in darkness with sin-blinded eyes, 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 
Go wash at His bidding, and light will arise, 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 

No need of the sunlight in heaven, we're told, 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 
The Lamb is the light in the City of Gold, 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 


"The Holy Spirit, Resist not, Grieve not, Quench not," was 
suggested to him by B. F. Jacobs. He loved the song himself, and 
the words are among the most beautiful he has written. He felt 
that more should be sung of the Holy Spirit, and wrote this after 
being in the work. 

" Three warnings ; Resist not, Grieve not, Quench not." 

The Spirit, oh, sinner, 

In mercy doth move, 
Thy heart, so long hardened, 

Of sin to reprove. 
Resist not the Spirit, 

Nor longer delay ; 
God's gracious entreaties 

May end with to-day. ' 

Oh, child of the kingdom, 

From sin service cease ; 
Be filled with the Spirit, 

With comfort and peace. 
Oh, grieve not the Spirit, 

Thy Teacher is He, 
That Jesus, thy Savior, 

. May glorified be. 

Defiled is the temple, 

Its beauty laid low, 
On God's holy altar 

The embers faint glow, 
By love yet rekindled, 

A flame may be fanned ; 
Oh, quench not the Spirit, 

The Lord is at hand. 

"Wishing, Hoping, Knowing/' he wrote to bring Christians 
into a more full assurance of salvation, in connection with his experi 
ence in Gospel meetings with doubting Christians who were look 
ing to their feelings instead of the word of God. 



A long time I wandered in darkness and sin, 

And wondered if ever the light would shine in ; 

I heard Christian friends tell of raptures divine, 

And wish'd, how I wish'd that their Savior were mine. 

CHORUS. I wish'd He were mine, yes, I wish'd He were mine 
I wish'd, how I wish'd that their Savior were mine. 

I heard the glad gospel of " good will to men " ; 
I read whosoever again and again ; 
I said to my soul, " Can that promise be thine ? " 
And then began hoping that Jesus were mine. 

CHORUS. I hoped He was mine, yes, I hoped He was mine : 
I then began hoping that Jesus was mine. 

Oh, mercy surprising, He saves even me ; 
" Thy portion forever," He says, " will I be." 
On His word I'm resting assurance divine, 
I'm " hoping " no longer I know He is mine. 

CHORUS. I know He is mine, yes, I know He is mine ; 

I'm " hoping " no longer I know He is mine. 

Rev. Mr. Brundage tells of the origin of " Almost Persuaded," 
in a sermon preached by him many years ago. The closing words 
of the sermon were " He who is almost persuaded is almost saved, 
but to be almost saved is to be entirely lost." Mr. Bliss being in the 
audience, was impressed with the thought, and immediately set about 
the composition of what proved one of his most popular songs, 
deriving his inspiration from the sermon of his friend, Mr. Brun 


"Almost persuaded" now to believe; 
" Almost persuaded " Christ to receive. 

Seems now some soul to say, 
" Go, Spirit, go Thy way, 

Some more convenient day 

On Thee I'll call." 


" Almost persuaded," come, come, to-day ; 

"Almost persuaded," turn not away. 
Jesus invites you here, 
Angels are ling'ring near, 
Prayers rise from hearts so dear ; 
O wand'rer, come ! 

"Almost persuaded," harvest is past ! 
" Almost persuaded," doom comes at last ! 
" Almost " cannot avail ; 
" Almost " is but to fail ! 

Sad, sad that bitter wail 
"Almost, but lost!" 

" Hallelujah ! 'tis Done." In compiling Gospel Songs, in 1874, 
Mr. Bliss desired to publish in it the well-known hymn, "Hallelu 
jah ! Thine the Glory," then much used in religious services. The 
owners of the copyright of the hymn declined his application for its 
use, and he wrote " Hallelujah ! 'tis Done," to supply the want. 
Hundreds of souls have been led to decide for Christ by this hymn, 
and the church has reason to rejoice at that refusal. 


"Pis the promise of God, full salvation to give 
Unto him who on Jesus His Son will believe. 

CHORUS. Hallelujah ! 'tis done, I believe on the Son ; 

I am saved by the blood of the Crucified One ; Crucified One. 

Though the pathway be lonely, and dangerous, too, 
Surely Jesus is able to carry us through. 

Many loved ones have I in yonder heavenly throng ; 
They are safe now in glory, and this is their song, 

Little children I see standing close by their King, 
And He smiles as their song of salvation they sing: 

There are prophets and kings in that throng I behold, 

And they sing as they march through the streets of pure gold : 


There's a part in that chorus for you and for me, 
And the theme of our praises forever will be : 

CHORUS. Hallelujah ! 'tis done, I believe on the Son ; 

I am saved by the blood of the Crucified One, Crucified One. 

" Good News " was written in March, 1874, about the time Mr. 
Bliss went to Waukegan for his first Gospel meetings, and was first 
sung there : 


Hear ye the glad good ne 1 ws from heaven ? 
Life to a death- doomed race is given ; 
Christ on the cross for you and me 
Purchased a pardon full and free. 

CHORUS. He that belie. veth, he that belie veth, 

He that believeth hath everlasting life ; 
He that believeth hath everlasting life. 

When we were lost, the Son of God 
Made an atonement by His blood ; 
When we the glad good news believe, 
Then the atonement we receive. 

Why not believe the glad good news ? 
Why still the voice of God refuse ? 
Why not believe, when God hath said, 
All, all our " guilt on Him" was laid. 

" Will You Meet Me at the Fountain ? " was suggested by a 
remark of a friend at the Chicago Exposition, in 1873, as they 
parted to make the tour of the building. The remark was, " Meet 
Me at the fountain." It made a melody in his heart in the sug 
gestion of another meeting, and blossomed out into the song : 


Will you meet me at the fountain, 

When I reach the glory-land ? 
Will you meet me at the fountain ? 

Shall 1 clasp your friendly hand ? 


Other friends will give me welcome, 
Other loving voices cheer ; 

There'll be music at the fountain ; 
Will you, will you meet me there ? 

CHORUS. Yes, I'll meet you at the fountain, 
At the fountain bright and fair ; 
Oh, I'll meet you at the fountain, 
Yes, I'll meet you, meet you there. 

Will you meet me at the fountain ? 

For I'm sure that I shall know 
Kindred souls and sweet communion 

More than I have known below, 
And the chorus will be sweeter, 

When it bursts upon my ear, 
And my heaven seem completer, 

If your happy voice I hear. 

Will you meet me at the fountain ? 

I shall long to have you near, 
When I meet my loving Savior, 

When His welcome words I hear. 
He will meet me at the fountain, 

His embraces I shall share ; 
There'll be glory at the fountain ; 
Will you, will you meet me there ? 

"Hallelujah ! He is Risen," was written in the South, in the 
spring of 1876, and was first sung by him on Easter afternoon, 1876, 
in the Court House Square of Augusta, Georgia, to an audience of 
five thousand people gathered to hear the Gospel. None who were 
there will ever forget the radiant face, or the triumphant, ringing 
tones with which he sang 

He is risen, He is risen, 
Living Lord and coming King. 


Hallelujah ! He is risen ! 

Jesus is gone up on high ! 
Burst the bars of death asunder, 

Angels shout and men reply : 


He is risen, He is risen, 
Living now no more to die. 

Hallelujah, He is risen ! 

Our exalted Head to be ; 
Sends the witness of the spirit 

That our Advocate is He ; 
He is risen, He is risen, 

Justified to Him are we. 

Hallelujah, He is risen ! 

Death for aye hath lost its sting, 
Christ, Himself the Resurrection, 

From the grave His own will bring : 
He is risen, He is risen, 

Living Lord and coming King. 

" Seeking to Save " was suggested by some remarks made in 
conversation with Mr. Bliss, by Dr. Wadsworth, of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church of Mobile, Alabama, upon the unity of the three 
parables in the fifteenth chapter of Luke. 


Tenderly the Shepherd, 

O'er the mountains cold, 
Goes to bring his lost one 

Back to the fold. 

CHORUS. Seeking to save, seeking to save, 

Lost one, 'tis Jesus seeking to save. 
Seeking to save, seeking to save, 
Lost one, 'tis Jesus seeking to save. 

Patiently the owner 

Seeks with earnest care, 
In the dust and darkness 

Her treasure rare. 

Lovingly the Father 

Sends the news around : 
" He once dead now liveth 
Once lost is found." 


" At the Feet of Jesus " came from the Scripture suggestions of 
passages containing that phrase. 


At the feet of Jesus, 

List'ning to His word, 
Learning wisdom's lesson 

From her loving Lord, 
Mary, led by heavenly grace, 
Chose the meek disciple's place. 
At the feet of Jesus is the place for me, 
There a humble learner would I choose to be. 

At the feet of Jesus, 

Pouring perfume rare, 
Mary did her Savior 

For the grave prepare ; 
And, from love the " good work" done, 
She her Lord's approval won. 
At the feet of Jesus is the place for me, 
There in sweetest service would I ever be. 

At the feet of Jesus, 

In that morning hour, 
Loving hearts receiving 

Resurrection power, 
Haste with joy to preach the word : 
"Christ is risen, Praise the Lord!" 
At the feet of Jesus, risen now for me, 
I shall sing His praises through eternity. 

" The Half was Never Told " was suggested by reading notes 
by his dear friend and sometimes fellow laborer in Gospel work, 
James M. Brookes, of St. Louis, upon the Queen of Sheba's visit 
to Solomon. 


Repeat the story o'er and o'er, 

Of grace so full and free ; 
I love to hear it more and more, 

Since grace has rescued me. 


CHORUS. The lialf was never told, 

The half was never told, 
Of grace divine, so wonderful, 
The half was never told. 

Of peace I only knew the name, 

Nor found my soul its rest 
Until the sweet-voiced angel came 

To soothe my weary breast. 

My highest place is lying low 

At my Redeemer's feet ; 
No realty in life I know, 

But in His service sweet. 

And oh, what rapture will it be 

With all the host above, 
To sing through all eternity 

The wonders of His love. 

The Columbus Glee Club lately paid a visit to the President and 
Mrs. Hayes at the White House. They sang a number of ditties m 
the corridor. At the close of the second song Mrs. Hayes made a 
special request for her favorite tunes. Among them was, " Let the 
Lower Lights be Burning." 

The last time Mr. Bliss sang for Mr. Moody was on Thursday, 
November 23, at Farwell Hall. Mr. Moody conducted, at ten o'clock 
that morning, a prayer meeting of ministers. Nearly one thousand 
pastors from all parts of the Northwest were present. It was a very 
earnest, very solemn, and impressive gathering. The Spirit of God 
was present, and many hearts were brought to a new and more en 
tire consecration to Christ. Mr. Moody at this meeting suggested 
the Alliance for Prayer, and a list was there made of over four hun 
dred churches who covenanted to pray for each other until God re 
vived His work in their midst. 

Rev. W. A. Spencer was appointed as the Secretary of the Alli 
ance, and very blessed and encouraging to the faith of God's people 
have been the reports that have come to him as the result of this 
united prayer. 

Mr. Bliss was seated at the organ and led in the singing. His 
own heart was full of Christ, and he was melted by the scene before 
him of these hundreds of dear ministers re-consecrating themselves 


so humbly and tearfully to the work of saving souls. His singing 
came with mighty power from a full heart, and with the conscious 
power of the Spirit of God. At the height of interest in the meet 
ing, at Mr. Moody's request he sang, "Are your windows open to 
ward Jerusalem ? " His face fairly shone as he sang, and half of 
those present were in tears under the influence of the song. Mr. 
Moody leaned his head forward upon the desk, filled with emotion, 
and as the words, so gloriously sung, "For the coming of the King 
in His beauty are you watching day by day ?" died away, the feeling 
of every heart, I believed, was expressed by a dear minister who ex 
claimed " God bless Mr. Bliss for that song." "Amen" came from 
many a voice and from all hearts. 

It was the last song he sung in Farwell Hall. It was the last 
time that his loved friend and brother Mr. Moody heard his voice 
in song. A fitting scene and a fitting theme to close the record of 
their work together on the earth. 




THE second collection of hymns bearing Mr. Bliss' name on the 
title page is " Sunshine for Sunday Schools," published by 
Messrs. John Church & Co., in 1873. The following hymns were 
included in that work, and are given here by permission of the pub 


More holiness give me, 

More strivings within, 
More patience in suff'ring, 

More sorrow for sin, 
More faith in my Savior, 

More sense of His care, 
More joy in His service, 

More purpose in prayer. 

More gratitude give me, 

More trust in the Lord, 
More pride in His glory, 

More hope in His word, 
More tears for His sorrows, 

More pain at His grief, 
More meekness in trial, 

More praise for relief. 

More purity give me, 

More strength to o'ercome, 
More freedom from earth-stains, 

More longings for home. 


More fit for the kingdom, 
More used would I be, 

More blessed and holy, 
More, Savior, like TJiee. 


" A vast fortune was left in the hands of a minister for one of his poor parishioners. Fear- 
ing that it might be squandered if suddenly bestowed upon him, the wise minister sent him A 
little at a time, with a note, saying : This is thine ; use it wisely ; there is more to follow. 
Brethren, that's just the way God deals with us." D. L. MOODY. 

Have you on the Lord believed ? 

Still there's more to follow ; 
% Of His grace have you received ? 

Still there's more to follow. 
Oh, the grace the Father shows I 

Still there's more to follow ; 
Freely He His grace bestows, 

Still there's more to follow. 

CHORUS. More and more, more and more. 

Always more to follow, 
Oh, His matchless, boundless love I 
Still there's more to follow. 

Have you felt the Savior near ? 

Still there's more to follow ; 
Does His blessed presence cheer ? 

Still there's more to follow. 
Oh, the love that Jesus shows ! 

Still there's more to follow ; 
Freely He His love bestows, 

Still there's more to follow. 

Have you felt the Spirit's power? 

Still there's more to follow ; 
Falling like the gentle shower? 

Still there's more to follow. 
Oh, the power the Spirit shows I 

Still there's more to follow ; 
Freely He His power bestows, 

Still there's more to follow. 



44 Behold, I stand at the door and knock." 

" They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick . I came not to 
call the righteous, Imt sinners to repentance." 

" I have redeemed thee I have called thee by thy name." 
" To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." 

This loving Savior 

Stands patiently ; 
Though oft rejected, 

Calls again for thee. 

CHORUS. Calling now for thee, prodigal, 

Calling now for thee ; 
Thou hast wandered far away, 
But He's calling now for thee. 

Oh, boundless mercy, 

Free, free to all J 
Stay, child of error, 

Heed the tender call. 

Though all unworthy, 

Come, now, come home 
Say, while He's waiting, 

"Jesus, dear, I come." 


Spirit Divine, Spirit Divine. 

Be Thou the Day-star in my darkness to shine 

Spirit of Truth, Spirit of Truth, 

Be Thou the Teacher and the Guide of my youth. 

Spirit of Love, Spirit of Love, 

Be Thou the Leader to my mansion above. 

Spirit of Power, Spirit of Power, 

Be Thine the praises of my song evermore. 



I may not know all the melodies of heaven, 
Sounding afar o'er the golden streets aglow, 

Yet to my soul let the sweet refrain be given, 
Come, blessed angels, your chorus I would know. 

CHORUS. Teach me, teach me, 

Teach me the song of the beautiful and holy ones, 

Teach me the song of the pure ones above ; 
Oh, teach me the song of the beautiful and holy ones, 
Teach me the beautiful song of love. 

I may not know all the glorified immortals 
Standing before Him, the holy, holy King, 

Yet would I join, as 1 near the shining portals, 
Loud hallelujahs, your chorus sweet to sing. 

Soon shall I hear them, the melodies of heaven, 
Sounding afar through the golden streets aglow. 

Soon to my soul shall the sweet refrain be given, 
Soon, blessed angels, your chorus I shall know. 

Dedicated to *' Daniel's Band " of the First Congregational Church, Chicago. 

Standing by a purpose true, 

Heeding God's command, 
Honor them, the faithf ul few, 

All hail to Daniel's Band I 

CHORUS. Dare to be a Daniel ! 

Dare to stand alone ! 
Dare to have a purpose firm, 
Dare to make it known. 

Many mighty men are lost 

Daring not to stand, 
Who for God had been a host, 

By joining Daniel's Band. 


Many giants great and tall, 

Stalking through the land, 
Headlong to the earth would fall, 

If met by Daniel's Band. 

Hold the Gospel banner high, 

On to victory grand ! 
Satan and his host defy, 

And shout for Daniel's Band. 


** Ask, and it shall be given ; Seek, and ye shall find." 

Precious promise ! Lord, I wonder Thou art still so kindl 
" Knock, it shall be opened," if we only could believe. 

Ask, seek, knock Savior, help us to receive. 
CHORUS. Ask, seek, knock, hear the loving Savior say : 
Ask, seek, knock Savior, help me to obey. 

Jesus, I ask Thee now, for Thine is all the power, 
Give me grace to look to Thee in dark temptation's hour. 
Help me to remember 'tis Thy gentle voice I hear. 
Ask, seek, knock Savior, wherefore should I fear ? 

Lord, I am waiting now Thy blessed face to see ; 
Earnestly I'm knocking, knocking; open, Lord, to me. 
To Thy cross I'll cling till Thou a blessing dost bestow. 
Ask, seek, knock Lord, I will not let Thee go. 


This is My commandment, 
That ye love one another, 
That ye love one another, 
As I have loved you. 

Blessed words of Jesus 

We have heard to-day 
Savior, by Thy spirit, 

Help us to obey. 
May Thy love unite us 

To the living Vine ! 
May our hearts, enlightened, 

Glow with love divine ! 


May we seek Thy glory, 

Strife and envy flee ; 
By our love to others, 

Prove our love to Thee. 
Ever more as brethren, 

In sweet union live. 
As we wish forgiveness, 

May we each forgive. 

Grant us Thy salvation, 

Fill us with Thy love ; 
Give us each a foretaste 

Of the joys above. 
Ever meek and lowly, 

Ever kind and true, 
Ever pure and holy, 

Paths of peace pursue. 

This is My commandment. 
That ye love one another, 
That ye love one another, 
As I have loved you. 


What did the angel to the shepherds say ? 

Fear not, fear not, 
On that bright morning of our Lord's birth-day ? 

CHORUS. Fear not, fear not, 

Fear not, fear not, let the Gospel sound. 
Fear not, fear not, 

Roll the world around ; 
Trembling souls, dismiss your fear, 
To the mercy seat draw near, 
To the mercy seat draw near. 

What said the Master when the waves ran high ? 

Fear not, fear not, 
To His disciples said He, " It is I." 

What to the ruler did the Savior say ? 

Fear not, fear not, 
When cold and lifeless His dear daughter lay ? 


What to the Marys was the cheering word ? 

Fear not, fear not, 
When they with joy beheld the risen Lord? 

What saith the Son of Man, the First and Last ? 

Fear not, fear not, 
He whose eternal word abideth fast ? 


Though the way seems lone, 

And the sunlight gone ; 
Though the blinding tears will fall. 

Let us look away, 

And be glad to-day, 
At the thought of going home. 

CHORUS. Going home, 
Going home, 

To our Father's house on high, going home 
Where there's no more night, 
And the Lamb is the light, 
We are going by and by. 

Though the world is drear, 

And the tempter near, 
And his arrows pierce the soul ; 

Yonder beams the strand 

Of the Promised Land, 
J Tis the long-sought final goal. 

Though in hostile lands, 

Over burning sands 
Now with weary feet we roam, 

But a few years more, 

And 'twill all be o'er, 
He will come to take us home. 


Mourn, yes mourn, 
But not for her at rest, 
And happy with the blest ; 


Her toils and trials cease, 
Her soul may rest in peace, 
In perfect peace. 

Pray, yes pray, 
But not for her in heaven ; 
Pray we may be forgiven, 
And at the last may stand, 
With her in Glory Land, 
A happy band. 

Praise, yes, praise, 
That in the Crucified 
She lived, and loved, and died. 
May grace our souls refine, 
And may her hope divine 
Be thine and mine. Amen. 


A song bursts from the starry sky, 

Starry sky, starry sky, 
And angels from their throne on high 

Shout aloud their holy joy. 
JOB xxxvii, 4, 5, 6, 7. 

But oh, earth's first and warlike song, 

Warlike song, warlike song, 
Of vengeance, murder, guilt and wrong ! 

Evermore it rolls along. 
GENESIS iv, 23, 24. 

A song rings o'er the sounding sea, 

Sounding sea, sounding sea, 
" The Lord hath triumphed gloriously " 

Praise Him for the victory. 
EXODUS xv, 1, 2. 

O, list the welcome Christmas song, 
Christmas song, Christmas song ! 

Of heaven's bright and shining throng 

We the Gospel strain prolong. 
LUKE ii, 8, 9, 10, 11. * 


A psalm floats on the evening air, 

Evening air, evening air, 
And Jesus' gentle voice is there 
Oh, may we His worship share 1 
MARK xiv, 22, 23, 24, 26. 

There'll be a song of glad accord, 

Glad accord, glad accord, 
Through heaven's eternal anthems heard, 
"Alleluia, praise the Lord !" 


Good cheer, good cheer ! 

For a happy New Year 
Is brightly smiling before us ; 

Let merry bells ring, 

Let happy hearts sing, 
Good cheer, good cheer is the chorus. 

Adow.n the past, 

One look we cast, 
For friends and fancies olden ; 

Then forward glance, 

And dream perchance, 
Of future days more golden. 

CHORUS. Good cheer, good cheer 1 
For a happy New Year 

Is brightly smiling before us, 
Let merry bells ring, 
Let happy hearts sing, 

Good cheer, good cheer is the chorus. 
Good cheer, good cheer ! 

For the glad and happy New Year I 
Good cheer, good cheer ! 

For the glad and happy New Year 1 

Good cheer, good cheer! 

For a happy New Year 
Is brightly smiling before us, 

Let merry bells ring, 

Let happy hearts wing, 
Good cheer, good cheer is the chorus. 


In future years, 
From smiles and tears, 
Our lives shall luster gather ; 
And come what may, 
We'll always say, 
" Thy will be done, our Father." 


Sweet little violets, 

Born in the wild- wood ; 
Purest of loveliness, 

Innocent childhood ; 
Shy as the antelope, 

Brown as a berry, 
Free as the mountain. air, 

Romping and merry. 
CHORUS. Tra la, la, la, la, la, &c. 

Blue eyes and hazel eyes 

Peep from the hedges, 
Shaded by sun -bonnets 

Fray'd at the edges ; 
Up in the apple-trees, 

Heedless of danger, 
Manhood in embryo 

Stares at the stranger. 

Out in the hilly patch, 

Seeing the berries 
Under the orchard trees, 

Feasting on cherries 
Trampling the clover blooms 

Down 'mong the grasses, 
No voice to hinder them, 

Dear lads and lasses. 

Dear little innocents ! 

Born in the wild- wood ; 
Oh, that all little ones 

Had such a childhood 1 
Heaven's blue over them, 

Earth's green beneath them, 
No sweeter heritage 

Could we bequeath them. 



Lord Jesus, come ! 

Nor let us longer roam 
Afar from Thee and that bright place 
Where we shall see Thee face to face. 

CHORUS. Lord Jesus, come! 
Lord Jesus, come ! 

Lord Jesus, come ! 

Thine absence here we mourn 
No joy we know apart from Thee, 
No sorrow in Thy presence see. 

Lord Jesus, come ' 

And take Thy people home, 
That all Thy nock, so scattered here, 
With Thee in glory may appear. 


I journey forth, rejoicing, 

From this dark vale of tears, 
To heavenly joy and freedom 

From earthly bonds and fears, 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit; 

Good-night, good-night till then. 

Why thus so sadly weeping, 

Beloved ones of my heart ? 
The Lord is good and gracious, 

Though now He bids us part. 
We oft have met in gladness, 

And we shall meet again, 
All sorrow left behind us ; 

Good-night, ^ood-night till then. 


I go to see His glory, 

Whom we have loved below ; 
I go, the blessed angels 

And hoi v saints to know ; 
Our lovely ones departed, 

I go to find again, 
And wait for you to join us : 

Good-night, good-night till then. 

The two hymns following are taken from " The Joy," issued by 
Messrs. Church & Co., in 1873 : 


" Is it safe? is it safe? " hear the timid cry 1 

" Who will tell me what to do ? 
Is it safe to wait ? is it safe to try ? 

Ah me, if I only knew ! " 
Alas, said I, come tell me, pray, 

What foolish man is this ? 
The laughing echoes seemed to say, 

"His name is COWARDICE." 

Will it pay 1 will it pay ? " came a frenzied yell 
From a surging, scowling crowd ; 

From the men of State and of Church as well- 
In sorrow my head I bowed. 

Can man, immortal man, thought I, 
So low and selfish be ? 

Their gilded motto streamed on high, 
I read it POLICY. 

' Will it please? will it please? " 'twas a soulless sound, 

Floating on the perfumed air, 
And again I sighed as I looked around 

On the captives of fashion there. 
'What ho," I cried, "and whither now? 

Whose worshipers are ye ? " 
Before their queen I saw them bow ; 
Twas cruel VANITY. 


" Is it right ? is it right ?" 'twas a ringing tone, 

And the jostling crowd stood still, 
For the voice was clear though it rose alone, 

And spake with a heavenly thrill. 4 

" Joy, joy, sweet angel voice," 1 cried, 

" Dwell, ever dwell with me," 
" This thine to choose," the voice replied, 

" My name is HONESTY." 


" To die is gain," 

All earthly cares forsaking, 

From toil and pain, 
To endless joy awaking, 

To die is gain. 

To die is gain, 
My weary soul home bringing ; 

O'er heavenly plain, 
Sweet angel voices singing, 

To die is gain. 

To die is gain, 
From strife and sin to sever, 

With Christ to reign, 
Forever, oh, forever, 

To die is gain. 



IN 1874, Messrs. Church & Co. published " Gospel Songs, a Choice 
Collection of Hymns and Tunes, New and Old, for Gospel Meet 
ings, Sunday Schools, etc., by P. P. Bliss." In addition to com 
positions formerly published, the following were contained in that 
work : 


Be near, O God, to me, 

Nearer to me ; 
So shall I truly be 

" Nearer to Thee." 
Thy face I cannot see, 
Still be Thou near to me, 
Nearer, God, to me, 

Nearer to me. 

Fold me beneath Thy wing, 

O Savior divine : 
There may I sweetly sing, 

" Jesus is mine." 
O'er all life's stormy sea, 
Still be Thou near to me, 
Nearer, God, to me, 
Nearer to me. 

Thy hand, in youth's wild way, 

Did me uphold ; 
Forsake me not, I pray, 

When I am old ; 


I put my trust in Thee, 
Now and eternally, 
Be near, God, to me, 
Nearer to me. 


Written for K. A. Burnell apoii his fiftieth hirthday, July, 1874. 

Come, brethren, as we march along, 

Come glory in the Lord : 
Bring each a psalm, a sacred song, 

And glory in the Lord : 
His hand hath led us hitherto, 

Come glory in the Lord ; 
We've proved His precious promise true ; 

Oh, glory in the Lord. 

CHOKUS. Forget the trials by the way, 

Press toward the great reward ; 
Exalt the cross of Christ to-day, 
And glory in the Lord. 

Though we in danger dread may be, 

We glory in the Lord ; 
In perils oft, by land and sea, 

We glory in the Lord ; 
In weary watchings night and day 

We glory in the Lord ; 
He says, " With you I am alway " 

We glory in the Lord. 

Fight on, O soldier of the cross ; 

We glory in the Lord ; 
For Jesus' sake count all things loss, 

And glory in the Lord ; 
In life or death, in ease or pain 

We glory in the Lord ; 
" To live is Christ, to die is gain " 

We glory in the Lord. 



How much owest thou? 

How much owest thou ? 
For years of tender watchful care, 
A father's faith, a mother's prayer, 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 
For calls and warnings loud and plain, 
For songs and sermons heard in vain, 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 
Thy day of grace is almost o'er, 
The judgment time is just before, 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 

How much owest thou ? 
O child of God and heir of Heaven, 
Thy soul redeemed, thy sins forgiven, 

How much owest thou ? 


Between me and my Savior 

Three mighty mountains rose, 
That all the way and ever 

My coming did oppose ; 
And darkness gathered round me, 

The light was growing dim, 
Until my Savior found me, 

And now I rest in Him. 

I waited for a feeling, 

Some new, mysterious power, 
A heavenly light revealing 

My heart as ne'er before ; 


This mountain dark and gloomy 

Concealed a loving Lord, 
Until His voice came to me 

"My child, believe My word." 

I waited for a fitness ; 

To pray would be a sin ; 
My past life bore the witness 

How vile my heart had been ; 
This mountain crushed my spirit 

Till God deliverance gave 
'Twas sinners without merit 

That Jesus came to save. 

And then my fear of failing, 

Of hopes indulged in vain, 
Of efforts unavailing 

Eternal life to gain 
This mountain rose before me ; 

I called for help divine ; 
Said Jesus, " Dost thou love Me ? 

Then rest thy life in Mine." 

" Gospel Hymns and Sacred Songs " was the joint production of 
Messrs. Bliss and Sankey, and the preface to it bears fac-similes of 
their autograph signatures. The work was published in 1875, by 
Biglow & Main, New York and Chicago, and John Church & Co., 
Cincinnati. The following hymns were published in it : 


Wand'ring afar from the dwellings of men, 
Hear the sad cry of the lepers the ten. 
" Jesus have mercy ! " brings healing divine ; 
One came to worship, but where are the nine ? 

CHORUS. Where are the nine ? 
Where are the nine ? 

Were there not ten cleansed? 
Where are the nine ? 


Loudly the stranger sang praise to the Lord, 
Knowing the cure had been wrought by His word, 
Gratefully owning the Healer Divine ; 
Jesus says tenderly, " Where are the nine?" 

" Who is this Nazarene ?" Pharisees say ; 

" Is He the Christ? tell us plainly, we pray." 
Multitudes follow Him seeking a sign, 
Show them His mighty works Where are the nine ? 

Jesus on trial to-day we can see. 
Thousands deridingly ask, " Who is He? " 
How they're rejecting Him, your Lord and mine ! 
Bring in the witnesses Where are the nine ? 


Weary gleaner, whence comest thou, 

With empty hands and clouded brow ? 

Plodding along thy lonely way, 

Tell me, where hast thou gleaned to-day ? 

Late I found a barren field, 

The harvest past my search revealed, 

Others golden sheaves had gained, 

Only stubble for me remained. 

CHORUS. Forth to the harvest field, away ! 

Gather your handfuls while you may ; 
All day long in the field abide, 
Gleaning close by the reaper's side. 

Careless gleaner, what hast thou here, 

These faded flow'rs and leaflets sere ? 

Hungry and thirsty, tell me, pray, 

Where, oh, where hast thou glean'd to-day? 

All day long in shady bow'rs, 

I've gaily sought earth's fairest flow'rs ; 

Now, alas ! too late I see 

All I've gathered is vanity. 

Burden'd gleaner, thy sheaves I see; 
Indeed thou must a- weary be ! 
Singing along the homeward way, 
Glad one, where hast thou glean'd to-day ? 


Stay me not, till day is done, 

I've gathered handfuls one by one ; 

Here and there for me they fall, 

Close by the reapers I've found them all. 


One offer of salvation, 

To all the world make known ; 

The only sure foundation 
Is Christ the Corner Stone. 

CHORUS. No other name is given, 

No other way is known, 
'Tis Jesus Christ, the First and Last, 
He saves, and He alone. 

One only door of heaven 

Stands open wide to-day, 
One sacrifice is given, 

'Tis Christ, the living way. 

My only song and story 

Is Jesus died for me ; 
My only hope for glory, 

The Cross of Calvary. - 

In 1876, " Gospel Hymns No. 2 " made its appearance, contain 
ing the following of Mr. Bliss' compositions : 


In Zion's Rock abiding, 

My soul her triumph sings ; 
In His pavilion hiding, 

I praise the King of kings. 

CHORUS. My High Tower is He ! 
To Him will I flee ; 
In Him confide, in Him abide ; 
My High Tower is He I 


Wild waves are round me swelling, 
Dark clouds above I see ; 

Yet, in my Fortress dwelling, 
More safe I cannot be. 

My Tower of strength can never 
In time of trouble fail ; 

No power of hell, forever, 
Against it shall prevail. 


We're marching to Canaan with banner and song, 
We're soldiers enlisted to fight 'gainst the wrong ; 
But, lest in the conflict our strength should divide, 
We ask, who among us is on the Lord's side? 

CHORUS. Oh, who is there among us, the true and the tried, 

Who'll stand by his colors who's on the Lord's side ? 
Oh, who is there among us, the true and the tried, 
Who'll stand by his colors who's on the Lord's side ? 

The sword may be burnished, the armor be bright, 
For Satan appears as an angel of light ; 
Yet darkly the bosom may treachery hide, 
While lips are professing, " I'm on the Lord's side." 

Who is there among us yet under the rod, 

Who knows not the pardoning mercy of God ? 

Oh, bring to Him humbly the heart in its pride ; 

Oh, haste while He's waiting and seek the Lord's side. 

Oh, heed not the sorrow, the pain and the wrong 
For soon shall our sighing be changed into song ; 
So, bearing the cross of our covenant Guide, 
We'll shout, as we triumph, " I'm on the Lord's side." 


" Man of sorrow " what a name 
For the Son of God, who came 
Ruined sinners to reclaim 
Hallelujah ! what a Savior 1 


Bearing shame and scoffing rude, 
In my place condemned He stood, 
Sealing my pardon with His blood 
Hallelujah ! what a Savior ! 

Guilty, vile and helpless we ; 
Spotless Lamb of God was He, 
" Full atonement " can it be ? 
Hallelujah, what a Savior I 

Lifted up was He to die, 
" It is finished " was His cry, 
Now in heaven exalted high. 
Hallelujah, what a Savior ! 



THE following letter from Mr. Bliss' friend and co-worker, Mr. 
Sankey, will be read with peculiar interest at this time : 

It was in the autumn of 1870 that I for the first time met P. P. Bliss. I had 
just arrived in Chicago to join Mr. Moody in his work in that city, and had 
gone with him to attend the noon-day prayer meeting in Lower Farwell Hall. 
Mr. Bliss was leading the singing, and at the close of the meeting Mr. Moody 
demanded of us a song. Seating himself at the piano which was in the room, 
we sang from " Hallowed Songs : " 

Oh, think of the home over there, 

By the side of the Kiver of Light, 
Where the saints, all immortal and fair, 

Are robed in their garments of white, 
Over there, over there. 

This was our first song together, and the last one we sang, a few days before 
he passed " Over There," was " Hallelujah ! what a Savior ! " It was my pleas 
ure to have met Mr. Bliss very often afterward, in the Saturday noon meetings, 
for the study of the International Sunday School Lessons. In these meetings, 
as well as in the usual daily prayer meetings, he was always a blessing and an 

During the time I was in Chicago, prior to our going to England, I became 
familiar with many of Mr. Bliss' songs, and they struck me as being specially 
adapted for reaching the masses, and, that I might have them in convenient 
shape for use in evangelistic work, I gathered a number of them from his 
" Charm " and " Sunshine," and, with other sacred songs, arranged them into 
a " Musical Scrap Book," which, with my Bible, was the only book I took with 
me across the sea. 

It was while singing from this scrap book, ' ' Jesus of Nazareth Passeth 
By," " Come Home, Prodigal Child," and Mr. Bliss' " Hold the Fort," " Jesua 
Loves Me," and " Free from the Law," in the old Cathedral city of York, and 


in Sunderland, England, that we began to fully realize the wonderful power 
there was in these Gospel songs. The demand for them soon became so great 
that we were compelled to have them published in a cheap form, which we did, 
under the title of " Sacred Songs and Solos." This collection contained a 
number of Mr. Bliss' best songs, which, together with a companion book of 
" Words Only" (the latter being sold fora penny) is believed to have attained a 
larger circulation than any collection of hymns and tunes ever published. 

The first of Mr. Bliss' hymns that became popular in Great Britain was 
" Jesus Loves Even Me," and, more than any other hymn, it became the key 
note of our meetings there. The next song which became immensely popular 
was " Hold the Fort," and it is to-day, perhaps, the most popular sacred song 
in England or America. 

I should think Mr. Bliss' " Almost Persuaded" has won more souls to the 
Savior than any other hymn written by him. 

It has been no unusual thing, in our special meetings for young converts, 
to have them testify that it was the singing of " Almost Persuaded," or " What 
shall the Harvest Be ? " that led them to decide for Christ. During the last 
year, the hymn " Waiting and Watching " has been specially blessed, and we 
believe that through the singing of this little hymn, thousands have been led 
to desire to live a better and a holier life. This song, with many of his new 
ones, will ever have a deeper and a tenderer meaning to us, now that he has 
entered within the gates into the city of the great King, where he may be 
" Waiting and Watching" for us ; and with what new joy and rejoicing shall 
we now sing his sweet words : 

Many loved ones have I in yon heavenly throng ; 
They are safe now in glory, and this is their song : 
Hallelujah ! 'tis done ! 1 believe on the Son ; 

I am saved by the blood of the crucified One." 


" He was not, for God took him." Gen. v, 24. 

BOSTON, Feb. 1877. 

The following letters from Japan and China are given in full to 
show the far-reaching influence of the Gospel Hymns and the sym 
pathy of Mr. Bliss in work for Christ all over the earth. He loved 
and prayed for all who named the name of Christ, and especially 
prayed for those engaged in missionary labor in foreign lands. The 
writer of these letters he became interested in through his wife, 
who was a cousin of Mrs. True. She had accompanied her hus 
band, who was a missionary in Japan, and after his death remained 
in that country with her little girl, to carry on the work of winning 
souls for Christ. The letter of October llth Mr. Bliss received at 
Jackson, Michigan, in the latter part of November. He read it 
over to me, with his heart full of sympathy for the lonely one in 


the Lord's work in the far off land, and with much emotion said : 
" Whittle, we should be ashamed of ourselves if we ever speak of 
sacrificing anything in being in the work as we are, compared with 
such devotion." Very fervent and tender was the prayer that fol 
lowed for this sister and for all missionary laborers. The same day 
he ordered a hundred books forwarded by his publishers to Japan. 
The happy letter of January 1st he, of course, never saw. Two 
days before it was written he had passed into the presence of the 
King to receive the " well done " of the Master, in answer to the 
prayers in the far away mission home in Japan, and from many and 
many another home and heart made glad by his Christian sympathy 
and Christian song. May many a Christian who reads these letters 
be stimulated to remember in prayer this dear sister in Christ, for 
whom Mr. and Mrs. Bliss prayed, and the cause of Christ in Japan, 
and all over the earth. These dear servants of Jesus who have 
gone out from us are our brethren in the Lord. Let us bear them 
often before the Throne. Let us have a place in our hearts for 
them always, for " their work's sake," and let us encourage them by 
our sympathy and by our aid in every way we can, for Jesus' sa*ke. 

" There is one body, and one spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of 
your calling ; One Lord, one faith, one baptism, One* God and Father of all, 
who is above all, and through all, and in you all." Eph. iv, 4-6. 

It was clear to Mr. Bliss, from the Scriptures, that the coming 
of the Lord was delayed by the lukewarmness of the Church in 
spreading the Gospel, and may his frequent and oft-repeated 
prayer be speedily answered, that the- baptism of the Spirit may 
come upon the Church, that she may complete the number of such 
as shall be saved, and the Lord may return. 

TOKIO, JAPAN, October 11, 1876. 

DEAR BROTHER, Your kind note of July 8th lies before me. I had it in 
my heart to reply by the first mail after its reception, but an unusual pressure 
of care and labor, incident to a change of residence and work, made it impossible. 

You know somewhat of our work in Yokohama, by way of Sister Sarah, I 
presume. Perhaps you will not take less interest in my present field of labor. 
Last August, I was applied to, by a Japanese Christian, to take charge of a 
school for girls, in one of the principal streets of this immense city. He pro 
posed to furnish the building and be responsible for all of the expenses of the 
school except the salary of myself and assistant. 


The fact that such an opening occurred in the native city, where all of the 
missionaries wished to go, but were not able, because of government restrictions, 
made it seem to me, and to all with whom I spoke of the matter, sufficiently 
important to warrant me in leaving the work in which 1 had been engaged to 
occupy a field so hopeful. Now I am here in the midst of heathendom with 
my little girl, and no other person in the house except natives. The school is 
opening well, I think, and I hope to be used of God in preparing many of these 
dear girls for usefulness in this land, where Satan has so long reigned. I do 
indeed find that, were it not for the very precious promises of God, my lot 
would be one of special trial. I am not alone, but even the presence of a 
Heavenly Friend does not still the heart-cries for earthly love and sympathy. 

The harvest is great and the laborers few ; so I will not be impatient, but 
when the Master has finished the plan for me here, I shall be glad, I think, 
to join my dear one on the other shore. I hope you will not understand me 
to complain of my lot. Far from it. I know that I am entirely unworthy of 
this blessed work ; my heart will sometimes ask why my dear husband, who 
was so much better fitted for it, and who so wished to engage in it, was taken 
home, and I sent alone. God does not make mistakes. 

You very kindly offer to furnish some singing books for our use. I am 
very glad to accept, as we teach English (that is the attraction to bring in- 
pupils), and singing is a very important help. I have one copy of Gospel 
Hymns and Sacred Songs, and we have already learned a few pieces, but, of 
course, find it. very difficult to do so without books. 

I do not wish to make too large a request, but if you can send fifty copies, 
I will sell as many as I can to the girls, and pay you for as many as you wish, 
or use the money for other mission purposes. You see I take you at your 
word, and believe in accepting all the aid offered us by Christian friends. 

I wish I could tell you how much we need your prayers. I can not, but I 
pray God to teach all Christians at home to pray as never before for this land 
in this time of special interest in her history. 

With the prayer that God will make you the instrument for leading many 
more souls into the Kingdom, I am your sister in Christ, 


I meant to have said if you prefer to send any other book, do so, of course. 
I spoke of that because I have enjoyed the music much. 

No. 12 GINZA SANCHOME, TOKIO, Jan. 1st, 1877. 

DEAR BROTHER, Surely it is a pleasant thing to be able to begin this new 
year by writing a letter of thanks. 

We had our Christmas festivities on the 26th, as we could not prepare in 
one day, and our school-rooms are also our church, and so we did not wish to 
decorate on Saturday. There were more than three hundred persons present, 


and nearly all were Japanese. For this I was very thankful, as it furnished 
the opportunity to tell many for the first time of our Savior's wondrous love. 

I retired exceedingly weary, but glad in heart, because I believed the Mas 
ter was pleased with our efforts to spread the news of His love. Before I arose 
next morning, a servant announced at my door, "Americano yubin" (Ameri 
can mail) 1 He knew full well that, notwithstanding my fatigue, I would wish 
to know at once the glad tidings. I hastened to see what was in store for me 
and to my surprise and^'oy, there were the " hymn books." I cannot tell you 
how glad I was, but I told our Father, and I am sure He will return a hundred 
fold. At morning worship we had a thanksgiving service, and afterward the 
girls and I had a " sing." I wish you could have seen their happy faces, as 
they saw the nice new books, and turned at once to find " Whosoever Will." 
They had learned that from my one copy, and sang it the evening before. But 
there were so many ! What was intended? There was no letter to explain, 
and I could not wait a whole month to know, and so I just said we will share 
our joy with the other three schools in our mission. I gave a part to Miss 
Youngman, who has a girls' school, and some to Mr. Ballagh, who has a boys' 
school in Yokohama, and sent some to Miss Marsh for her school, also in Yoko 
hama. That leaves a nice supply for us, and we sing and sing until we are 
hoarse ! I hope I have not done wrong with them. The others were delighted, 
and you may be sure that your name and songs will be well known in our 
mission in Japan at least. 

I wonder whether you would not be interested in a sketch prepared by one 
of the girls in my school for our Christmas entertainment. I have a class of 
three, in English composition, and a few days before Christmas I told them 
that for their own profit and the pleasure of their friends, I wished them to 
prepare something on the life of Daniel. There is no translation of the Old 
Testament, and they must do it from what they could get from their English 
Bibles without help, and read without correction. I think I will send you one 
of them ; not because it is so good, but to show you a little the ability, and 
turn of mind of a girl fifteen years old. 

This is, as you see, "New Year's," and the custom of calling prevails even 
in Japan. I have written in odd minutes between calls. 

With many thanks, and ready to refund whatever part of price you say 
and with love to Mrs. B., I am yours truly, 

M. T. TRUE. 

Mrs. True sends the sketch spoken of, which we omit here, as 
foreign to the purpose of this work. She adds a postscript, con 
cluding as follows : 

I will send by this mail a Japanese hymn book. If you have not seen one, 
you may be interested in it. There is great difficulty in getting hymns to fit 
any meter which pleases the Japanese ear. I wish we had some musicians to 
compose music according to their ideas that is, in a meter which they like 


and we could get translations to fit, I think music is such a power here as 

The following letter from a missionary lady in China testifies to 
the appreciation there of Mr. Bliss' hymns : 

SOOCHOW, CHINA, Dec. 11, 1876. 

DEAR SIR, I am sure from the spirit of your songs which many of us in 
this far land love to sing that you are interested in all missionary operations 
and will be interested in hearing that some of your hymns are being given to 
this people. I know a number of the missionaries have translated your hymns 
into Chinese, and, as they are favorites with me, I translate them oftener than 
those of any other writer, to use in a little paper I edit, called the Glad Tidings . 
Messenger. Thinking you may like to see one of your songs in Chinese, I 
send you my last little paper, in which you can perhaps recognize, " Blessed 
are They that Do," though I changed it somewhat for convenience in rhythm. 

May God use your service of song, and bless you richly in all its effects. 

Yours truly, 


A St. Louis friend writes : 

ST. Louis, MISSOURI, February 5, 1877. 

On one of those Sunday afternoons when a Gospel meeting was being held 
by yourself and Mr. Bliss, in the skating rink, there came as fearful a storm of 
wind and rain as I ever witnessed. The old timbers quivered ominously. 
You were speaking, but the noise was so great as to cause you to stop. The 
storm continuing, plain symptoms of alarm were becoming visible in the audi 
ence. Mr. Bliss, noticing this; by an inspiration from God, struck up a verse 
of the grand old hymn, " God moves in a mysterious Way." The storm was at 
its fiercest. Just as he sang the words, " He rides upon the storm," there was 
an instantaneous cessation of the storm ; a little break occurred in the cloud, 
and a bright ray of brilliant light flashed directly and fully for a moment upon 
his face. Mrs. B. had been uneasy, and asked me I was right at her side 
if there was any danger. I reassured her, and when the incident occurred, 
she looked at me with one of the pleasantest and sweetest smiles and nodded 
her head ; her look and manner being as much as to say, all is perfectly safe, 
for He who rides upon the storm has sent the brightness of His sunshine upon 
us at this moment, as He sent the rainbow. 

W. H. W. 

Eev. Arthur T. Pierson, of Detroit, speaks from the fullness of 
his heart respecting the dead singer : 


DETROIT, February 13, 1877. 

I have but a few moments in which to give you my estimate of our dear 
departed Brother Bliss. You know what rare opportunity that four weeks' 
stay at my house afforded me for knowing you both. When I think of him, I 
think of Anointed Song. You remember when, to fit your sermon, 1 wrote 
those words, " With harps and with viols," that he went away to his room for 
a season of prayer, before he was willing to attempt to compose the music for 
those verses. Is it any marvel that dear Bliss' songs have been made so con 
spicuously the channels for the conveyance of spiritual impressions, when we 
know that not only the words, but the music, too, are "sanctified by the word 
of God and prayer ? " Has not Mr. Bliss been God's instrument, in these days of 
perverted church music and operatic quartettes, to teach us how the Gospel may 
be sung, as well as preached ? 

He was well named " Bliss." What a happy man he was ! What a ray 
of sunshine, what a spring of joy in the household ! My children will never 
forget him ; and will always think of him as an illustration of the blessed 
peace and radiant cheerfulness of a Christian life. Ah, dear Whittle, what 
Cowper calls that " poor, lisping, stammering tongue " lies silent now, but " in 
a nobler, sweeter song," he sings the power of Christ to save. 

Affectionately thine, 


Extract from a letter dated 

MOBILE, ALABAMA, February 6, 1877. 

The night of that fearful disaster we were holding a church sociable at our 
house. It was bitter cold, but a good many had assembled, and near the close 
of the evening my brother sat down to the piano and with a group of voices 
commenced singing some of those now household hymns of the Bliss and San- 
key collection among others, " We're going Home To-morrow." How little 
we thought then of the terrible tragedy that was being enacted in another part 
of our land, and was even then taking home the two who first sang it to us 
here in Mobile, and in the singing led so many to long for the home beyond. 
To me it will ever be sacred to their memory. 

How vividly are the incidents of his short stay here with us recalled. Our 
acquaintance makes us feel a part ownership in him as a friend ; and is he not 
the dear noble brother of us all who name the name of Christ ? 

The church has lost in him and his dear wife two members of its very own 
family circle. Eternity alone can tell the deep impression made upon all by 
his song sermons in the pulpit, where his beautiful voice told so pleadingly the 
" old, old story " to poor dying sinners, or spoke the praises of his God in halle 
lujahs for the finished work of the Son. A chord of universal sympathy has 
been touched in our city, and we would fain join our voices with those of his 
many friends everywhere, in chanting his last sad requiem. May we be as 
ready when our summons comes. H. H. D. 


APPLETON, Wis., March 6, 1877. 

In the spring of 1875, it was my privilege to hear the vocalist, Mr. P. P. 
BlisS, in Chicago. With the earnest preaching and exhortation of Mr. Whittle, 
some of the sweet melodies of Mr. Bliss were intermingled. Never before 
did I so understand the .power of sacred song to touch the heart, leading Chris 
tians to clasp closer and closer their birthright, and calling the wanderer home. 
It was a mixed multitude that evening, of high and low, rich and poor. Near 
me sat a group of young men, looking torn and " bruised by the fall." As Mr. 
Bliss sang the appeal embodied in the song, "Oh, brother, believe it, Chrisl 
has redeemed us once for all," I observed tears coursing down those hard 
cheeks. The wanderers were touched, perhaps saved. 

Eternity alone can estimate the value of these consecrated gifts of song, 
and the part they bear in the rescue of fallen humanity. Humanly speaking, 
great multitudes have heard and obeyed the call sent to them, through the 
" Gospel Hymns " of our departed friend. His voice will be heard on earth 
no more, but his work still lives. And he lives. Ashtabula was but the dark 
river, or the " chariot of fire" to bear him away to the home of which he had 
so often sung. It was the new life, and the "new song" begun; 'twas Im 
mortality. L. A. B. 

One Sunday a man came into the Sunday School at the Boston 
North End Mission, drawn by the sweetness of the children's sing 
ing. He remained until the close, and came again that evening to 
the prayer-meeting. When the customary invitation to seek the 
Savior was given, he came forward and found " peace in believing." 
To a few who had remained to pray with the penitent seekers he 
said, " My friends, I feel that I'm a saved man, and / owe it to 
your children's singing 'Jesus loves me,' this afternoon. I couldn't 
realize it, I've been such a miserable sinner ; but after I went away 
I thought it over, 'Jesus loves me;' and then I thought of the 
next line, * For the Bible tells me so,' and I tried to believe it, and 
I came here this evening to get you to pray for me." He became a 
regular attendant at the Mission, and gave the clearest evidence of 
a genuine change of heart. 

At one of the revival meetings at Edinburgh a gay, giddy girl 
attended. She went late and was unable to get a seat, so she wan 
dered about in the hall outside. Inside the church they were sing 
ing, led by Mr. Sankey, 


Oh, I am so glad 
That Jesus loves me, 
Jesus loves me, 
Jesus loves me. 

The words went to her heart and her conscience, and she said, " I 
cannot sing that." When that meeting broke up she went to the 
meeting for anxious inquirers, and is now a rejoicing Christian. 

A missionary of the American Sunday School Union in Mis 
souri, after he had organized a Sunday School recently, sang to 
them Mr. Bliss' delightful song, 

I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 

and followed it with the question, " Are you glad ? If not, why ? " 
He had hardly finished when a young man rose, and rushing up to 
him, threw his arms around his neck, sobbing, " Oh, sir, you must 
not leave here till I'm a Christian ! " Prayer was offered for him, 
antl he was saved. Then he exclaimed, " Oh, that song ! I could 
not get away from it and it has saved me." 

A young woman in England went to a meeting where she heard 
Mr. Sankey singing this same hymn, 

I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 

and while the hymn was being sung, began to feel for the first time 
in her life that she was a sinner. All her sins came up in array 
before her ; and so numerous and aggravated did her sins appear, 
that she imagined she never could be saved. She said in her heart, 
"Jesus cannot love me. He could not love such a sinner as I." 
She went home in a state of extreme mental anguish, and did not 
sleep that night. Every opportunity of obtaining more light was 
eagerly seized. She took her place in the " Inquiry Koom." There 
she found to her astonishment and joy that Jesus could, DID, DOES 
love sinners. She saw in God's opened Word that it was for sin 
ners Jesus died, and for none others. When she realized this she 
too began to sing : 

I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 

Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me, even me. 


Iii a praise meeting, during the revival services -in Chicago, Mr. 
Sankey spoke as follows in regard to the power of this and other 
hymns : 

What I have to thank God especially for is tlie wonderful way He has used 
the power of song. I remember about five years ago coming to yonder depot 
one morning early. It was my first visit to this great city, and I knew none 
here save one man. I went along Madison street, up State street, to the North 
Side, and met my dear brother Moody. I had met him one year before in a 
distant State, while he was engaged in the work of the Master. As I went 
along those streets, I recollect how I wondered if God had a work here for me 
in my coming to this city, or whether I had come on my own volition, and how 
while thinking in this way I sent up a prayer to God to bless me in the service 
in which I was about to engage. With thankfulness I remember the very first 
day I spent in this city. Somewhere down here we came among the sick and 
lowly, and went from one house to another singing and praying with the peo 
ple ; and what a blessing we received! 

God led us into other fields. I remember when the Tabernacle was rebuilt 
how I used to enjoy gathering the little people in, and teaching them those 
sweet songs that are already encircling the globe. Yes, encircling the globe, 
for but a few days ago I received a copy of these Gospel Hymns printed in the 
Chinese language. They are sung in Africa and Asia, and are heard in France 
and Germany, England and America. I remember what peace and pleasure I 
had as 1 first taught these little hymns on the North Side. One day a lady 
called on me when I first had those classes, and said, " There is a little singing 
girl belonging to one of your classes who is dying. She wants you to go and 
see her." 1 went to her home a little frame cottage and there I found a lit 
tle maid dying one whom I had known so well in the Thursday evening 
meetings. I said, "My dear child, how is it with you ? " " Will you pray for 
my father and mother as you pray for us ? " was the reply. " But how is it 
with yourself ? " I again asked. " Oh, sir," she answered, " they tell me I am 
about to die, but I have found the Lord Jesus Christ." " When did you 
become a Christian ? " I inquired. " Don't you remember one Thursday when 
you were teaching me to sing 

I am so glad that Jesus loves me, 
Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me ; 

and don't you remember how you told us that if we only gave our hearts to 
Him, He would love us ? and I gave it to Him." 

What that little dying girl said to me helped to cheer me on more than 
anything I had heard before, because she was my first convert. Thank God, 
there have been many since. 

During a Western Sunday School Convention, there arose a 
cry of dissatisfaction, "A ring!" "A ring!" The strange and 


false charge was made that the managers were conducting the con 
vention according to some recent scheme. Quite a discordant 
excitement ensued, during which a distinguished singer who was 
present, was called on to sing. He sang, 

All this I did for thee, 
My precious blood I shed 
That thou mightst ransomed be, 
And rescued from the dead ; 
All this I did for thee 
What hast thou done for me ? 

Through the song Christ seemed to whisper to the discordant 
convention, " Peace, be still/' and when the song had ceased, a 
calm, Christ-like spirit had filled the convention and continued 
with it to the end. 

A gentleman in Edinburgh was in distress of soul, and hap 
pened to linger in a pew after the noon meeting. The choir had 
remained to practice, and began 

Free from the law, oh, happy condition, etc. 

Quickly the Spirit of God carried that truth home to the awakened 
conscience, and he was at rest in the finished work of Jesus. 

Mr. Sankey was with Mr. Moody in Philadelphia, years since, 
during the progress of a very interesting meeting at Dr. Reed's 
church, when many were being awakened, and sang the beautiful 
Gospel hymn, "Almost Persuaded." After the close of the meet 
ing, an attorney, who had been very much interested, came forward 
and said that he was not only "almost" but "altogether per 
suaded " to put his trust in the Lord Jesus. This sweet song wai 
used of the Holy Ghost in carrying the blessed Gospel of God's Son 
to his heart. 



following letter from Eev. Henry Burton bears testimony 
-1- to the influence of Mr. Bliss' hymns upon the people of 

15 APSLEY CRESCENT, BRADFORD, Eng. Feb. 19, 1877. 

I am much obliged for your letter received yesterday, with its deeply inter 
esting notices of our beloved friend. His death has been quite a shock to us 
all on this side the water, for though not personally known to us, his name has 
become a household word in all the Christian churches of Great Britain. 
We seemed to love him as a brother. There was such a sweet and winning 
power about his simple songs that they carried us captive before we knew it. 
No one can estimate the influence his melodies have exerted upon the spiritual 
life of England. We praise God for His precious gift of song, and now that 
He has called our dear brother up to the hallelujahs of the sky, we are dumb 
because He has done it. 

I had a letter from Brother Bliss, dated, " Kome, Pa., 25th May, 1876." It 
was mainly in reference to the hymns I sent him, but there is one sentence in 
it that is so characteristic of the humble follower of Jesus, I will transcribe 
it for you : 

Thanks for your complimentary mention of the songs I have had the pleasure of writing. 
You need not call them mine. If there is any good in any of them, it came from Him, the 
Source of all good. To Him he all the praise. 

As to the hymns I sent, you are quite at liberty to make any use of them 
you may see fit. 

Praying that the rich blessings of the All-Mighty, the All- Loving One may 
rest evermore abundantly upon your labors, I am 

Yours in Christian Fellowship and Love, 


The following, from an unknown writer, is clipped from the 
Youth's Companion : 


On the stage at one of the Liverpool theaters, a comic singer came out 
before the footlights to sing. Just as he was about to commence his waggish 
melody, the tune of a sweet Sunday School hymn, learned before, came sud 
denly to mind, and so confused him that he completely forgot his part. Ee 
stood a moment trying to recall it, and then retired, covered with shame. 
The manager, enraged at his failure, and still more enraged at his apparently 
foolish explanation, paid him the remainder of his wages and ordered him at 
once to quit his service. Out of employment, he wandered about the city like 
the unclean spirit, seeking rest and finding none. His heart was full of curses, 
and to drown his mortification he drank deep and desperately, till his days and 
nights were one continual debauch. 

In the meantime, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey began their meetings in 
Liverpool. The fame of the evangelists was in every mouth, and the young 
actor, hearing them discussed and ridiculed among his low associates, con 
ceived the idea of writing a burlesque about them, to be put upon the stage. 
He sobered himself sufficiently to begin. But he felt he could not make his 
work complete without more " points " or " hits " to give it zest. So he deter 
mined to attend a meeting himself, and hear the men whom he intended to 
lampoon. He went, and the same power that in the sudden memory of that 
early hymn had driven him once from the stage arrested him and held him a 
reverent listener. At the close he remained among the penitent inquirers, and 
was soon led to accept the Lord Jesus as his Master. The young man is now 
in London, preparing himself to be a missionary. 

Often a remembered hymn will keep sacred hold of a wicked heart when 
nothing else can. That simple Sunday School song, to the poor comedian, was 
a voice come back from his by-gone and better days. In spite of himself it 
changed his fate, and led the way to the still better days beyond. 

Our meetings in Nashville, Tennessee, were advertised to com 
mence April 15. When the time drew near, the writer was 
detained in Chicago by sickness in his family, and Mr. Bliss started 
alone. Before starting, application was made by telegraph and 
letter to different brethren to accompany him and preach at the 
opening services, but without success. Bliss prayed over the mat 
ter, and left Chicago very happy and peaceful in mind, saying, 
"Don't you worry a bit, W. The Lord has some one to be with 
me, I know." We had both thought of telegraphing Dr. Brookes, 
of St. Louis, to go, thinking of him as just the one needed, but 
deciding that it would be of no use to send to him, as he was too 
busy in his work at St. Louis to go so far from home. The morn 
ing after leaving Chicago, before the train reached Louisville, Bliss 
went through the cars, distributing Scripture texts. As he entered 
the St. Louis sleeping car, there sat Dr. Brookes. With a joyous 


greeting Bliss exclaimed, " This is the answer to my prayer. You 
are to go to Nashville to-night with me, to take W.'s place." The 
Doctor looked rather puzzled at his assurance, and replied, "I am 
sorry to disappoint you, but I am on my way to deliver a lecture to 
the students at Danville College, at their commencement to-mor 
row ; and as I can't possibly reach Danville in time by going on to 
Nashville, I am afraid your prayer is not answered." Bliss said, 
"Well, wait until we get to Louisville and see. I am sure that 
you are going to Nashville with me." On their arrival at Louis 
ville, Dr. Brookes was amazed to find that he had made a mistake 
of seven days in the date of his appointment, and that his lecture 
could not be delivered until the week following. He went on with 
Bliss and Conducted the meetings for a week. The evening ser 
vices were held in the Exposition Building, and from four to five 
thousand people gathered nightly to hear the Gospel preached by 
Brookes and sung by Bliss, and very blessed results were secured. 
Bliss has told me that the first evening he was with the Doctor at 
the Exposition service, he sang, "When Jesus Comes." He was 
troubled at noticing that the Doctor leaned forward and covered 
his face with his hands. He thought something in the hymn must 
have met with his disapproval ; but before he closed the song he 
saw that it was sympathy with the song and emotions in glad 
accord with it, that possessed him. Many, many times afterward 
did he have to sing to the Doctor "When Jesus Comes." 

I believe it was at Nashville that Mr. Bliss called upon an 
invalid lady who had been speechless for some years. She had once 
been a singer, and after he had sung to her, she whispered to him, 
" My great regret now is that when I had my voice I did not use 
it more to sound His praises." The incident made a deep impres 
sion upon him, and led him to write the words of the song, " Work 
for your Master," found in an incomplete condition among his 
papers and finished by "Paulina." 

The following letters need no introduction or explanation : 

BOSTON, February 19, 1877. 

A young lady came into the inquiry room at the Tabernacle, on Wednesday 
evening in great distress, saying she had been seeking for years for forgive 
ness of her sins, but had kept the matter very secret and never intended to 


" confess Christ " till He had given her abundant light and assurance. She 
would not promise to make known her seeking- to her companions, and went 
away as dark as she came, carrying with her, however, the verse, " He that 
believeth not God maketh Him a liar." She returned on Friday night, and 
while Mr. Sankey was singing "There's a Light in the Valley," she said, " I 
will do anything for such a Savior," and peace came at once. In the inquiry 
room she arose and said, " I will take Jesus." She is now rejoicing. 

I am truly yours, 


209 BKOADWAT, INDIANAPOLIS, January 27, 1877. 

I notice in one of my religious papers a call on all who may have any facts 
to communicate respecting the influence of the compositions of the lamented 
Bliss to communicate them to you. It is certainly due to his memory and 
eminent services that I acknowledge the very large use my family, (who have 
labored widely for years as Gospel singers, and are known as the " Carman 
Family ") have made of his songs. 1 may particularly instance his " Ninety 
and Nine," "If Papa were only Ready," " Jesus of Nazareth," " Almost Per 
suaded," "How Much Owest Thou? " and " Calling Now." They have sung 
these in revival meetings in Syracuse, Rochester, Erie, Cleveland, Norwalk, 
Dayton, Richmond, Indianapolis, Evansville, and many other places, deeply 
impressing thousands. 

An aged and skeptical gentleman in Norwalk, Ohio, dated his convictions, 
which led him to Christ, to hearing Mrs. Carman sing " If Papa were only 
Ready." Quite a list of persons in Cleveland were reported to her as converted 
through her singing in that city, where she and our three boys made much 
use of Mr. B.'s pieces. Both in direct Gospel work, and also in their " Evenings 
of Song," his compositions have been found by them invaluable. And beyond 
any of these, Mrs. B/s " Rock of Ages " has been their great standard quartette. 

Yours fraternally, 

Pastor North Baptist Church, Indianapolis 

GENEVA LAKE, Wis., February 8, 1877. 

In compliance with your request, made through the columns of the Stand 
ard, permit me to tell you of the great blessing which has come to me through 
the hymns of " dear brother Bliss." That one commencing, " Down life's dark 
vale we wander," has been such a comfort. His hymns are so full of the Gos 
pel of Christ, I shall ever remember with pleasure those days when I was 
permitted to listen to that voice, which is now hushed to human ears, but 
which is continually praising " Him who loved us and washed us from sin 
and unto Him be the glory forever, Amen," and with whom we hope to join in 
singing praises forever, " when Jesus comes." ******* 


LEA VN WORTH:, Feb. 7. 1877. 

DEAR BROTHER Having seen a notice of your request published in the 
Sunday School Times, I take pleasure in responding and giving iny testimony 
in favor of the music written by your late friend and colleague. I have been 
singing and teaching for twenty-five years, and in all that time have never 
been more impressed for good, or so thoroughly awakened and revived spir 
itually, by any music, as by that of Mr. Bliss. Last Sabbath, I sang selections 
from it (including Mrs, Bliss') for the convicts in the Military Prison at Fort 
Leavenworth, and all seemed deeply interested and affected. 

The songs call commendations from many wherever heard, and the fate of 
their author is felt and sincerely lamented here as elsewhere. 1 am heartily 
in love with his sweet melodies and recommend the use of the book wherever 
I go. Respectfully, 


DABLINGTON, Wis., Jan. 27, 1877. 

DEAR SIR I can truly say that I have been blessed, in listening to many 
of the songs of the late P. P. Bliss. The song, " What hast Thou done for 
Me ? " has been more impressive to me than many a sermon that I have heard. 
I had a little brother about three years and a half old, who died on the 23d 
of March, 1876, who, a few hours before his death, told his papa to sing. 
"I should like to die. said Wilie, if my Papa could die too," and his papa 
sung that beautiful song composed by Mr. Bliss, " If Papa were Only Ready," 
and before night his soul had taken its flight to the Spirit Land. Often, when 
he was with us, he used to sing, in his childish way, " I am so glad that Jesus 
loves Me." 

Eternity alone can reveal the good that has been and will be accomplished 
by the beautiful songs of P. P. Bliss. 

Tours truly, 


HUNTINGTON, INDIANA, February 4, 1877. 

DEAR CHRISTIAN BROTHER IN CHRIST I can see that I have been greatly 
blessed by the hymns of the late P. P. Bliss especially with the one called 
" Jesus Loves Me." It was daily food to my soul. I greatly regret that sc 
fine a musician and useful man was so suddenly called away in the prime of 
life. I pray to our Father in Heaven that his music may be a blessing to all 
generations. Yours in Christian love, 



NEW YOBK, February 8, 1877. 


DEAII SIR I was converted at Louisville, Kentucky, while your meetings 
were being held there, about two years ago, and I can say that I was greatly 
blessed through the sweet singing of Mr. P. P. Bliss. 

Yours respectfully, 


CHICAGO, March 8, 1877. 

In response to your request, I take pleasure in communicating the follow 
ing facts in regard to my life, and conversion through the instrumentality of 
that song by Mr. Bliss, ''What shall the Harvest Be ? " 

At the breaking out of the war, in 1861, I hastened to take service in the 
army, and soon after in August of that year I was appointed a First Lieuten 
ant in the regular army. At that time, I was not yet eighteen years of age, 
and never had been away from home influences. I had never tasted any kind 
of intoxicating liquor, and did not know one card from another. The regiment 
to which I was assigned was principally officered by young men, many of whom 
were old in dissipation. The new life was an attractive one, and I entered upon 
it with avidity. In a very few months, I became a steady drinker and a con 
stant card player. I do not remember to have made any attempt to resist the 
encroachments of vice ; on the contrary, I took a mad delight in all forms of 
dissipation. I laughed at the caution of older heads, and asserted, with all 
the egotism of a boy, that I could abandon my bad habits at any time. But 
the time speedily came when I recognized the fact that my evil desires had 
obtained the complete mastery of my will, and that I was no longer able to 
exercise any control over myself. From that hour I knew no peace. The 
years that followed were but a succession of struggles against the dominion 
of my appetite, and a repetition of failures. With each failure, I lost some 
thing of my power of resistance and gained something of evil. In 1870, I 
resigned my commission and returned to civil life, determined to make one 
last stand against my passions by breaking away from my old associations 
and beginning a new life. The result was attained in my condition of a few 
months ago. I do not like to recall the past six years. They are as a fright 
ful dream, from which, thank God ! I was at last awakened ; but the recollec 
tion of which will always bring sorrow and remorse. 

When the Tabernacle was opened, last fall, I was in Chicago, presumably 
on my way to Minnesota. Only a few weeks before, I had left my family, 
promising with my last words that I would stop drinking, and try once more 
to be a sober man. I did not keep the promise five minutes ; I could not. I 
stopped here, actuated by a desire to indulge, unrestrained, my appetite for 
liquor' and cards, and in those few weeks I had taken a fearful plunge down 
ward. At last I had made up my mind that there was absolutely no hope for 
me, and I wanted the end to come quickly. 1 gave myself up to the wildest 
debauchery, and speculated, with a reckless indifference on how much longei 


my body could endure the fearful strain. In anticipation of sudden death, I 
carefully destroyed all evidences of my identity, so that my friends might 
never know the dog's death I had died. It was while in this condition that I 
one day wandered into the Tabernacle and found a seat in the gallery. I 
looked at the happy faces about me and I hated them. I had all the vindic 
tive feeling of a wild animal hunted to his last covert and waiting in impo 
tent rage the final blow that is to end his miserable life. I did not pay much 
attention to the service. I was drowsy and stupefied with liquor. But after a 
while there was a perfect stillness, out of which presently rose the voice of 
Mr. Sankey (may God forever bless him !) in the song, " What shall the Har 
vest Be?" The words and music attracted my attention, and I straightened 
up to listen. They stirred me with a strange sensation, and when presently he 


Sowing the seed of a lingering pain, 
Sowing the seed of a maddened brain, 
Sowing the seed of a tarnished name, 
Sowing the seed of eternal shame, 
Oh, what shall the harvest be? 

the words pierced me like an arrow. My deadened conscience was aroused, 
and with one swift glance memory recalled my bright boyhood, my wasted 
manhood, and showed me my lost opportunities. Every word of the song was 
true of my own case, and in bitter agony I was reaping the harvest my mis 
deeds had brought me. I thought of my old mother, my loving, faithful wife" 
and children, and of how they, too, were compelled to reap of my harvest of 
dishonor. My awakened conscience lashed me as with a whip of scorpions, 
and I rushed from the Tabernacle and sought to drown its voice in more whis 
ky. But it was of no use. Wherever I went, whether to the bar of the sa 
loon, or to the gaining table, or to the solitude of my own room,befoi-e my eyes 
in letters of fire were always the words, " What shall the harvest be ? " For 
two weeks I endured this torture, having no rest, until at last on my knees I 
cried to God for mercy, and He heard my prayer. Broken, weak, and vile and 
helpless, I came to Him, believing that ''the blood of Jesus Christ His Son 
cleanseth us from all sin," and trusting that His love 'and compassion would 
regard even me. And, Major, I have not trusted in vain. He has removed 
from me my old desires and appetites, and made me a new creature in Christ 
Jesus. He has guided me, shielded me, and fought my battles for me, and 
day by day my faith grows brighter, and my love stronger. 

" The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer ; my God, my 
strength, in whom I will trust ; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, 
and my high tower." 

Very truly, yoift friend and brother in Christ, 


UPPER ALTON, Illinois, February 30, 1877. 

During Mr. Bliss' tour with Dr. John Hall, in 1874, I met him in Spring 
field, Illinois. The services were held in the interests of the Sunday School 


Union, in the First Presbyterian Church. Governor Beveridge, in a few re 
marks, introduced the speaker (Dr. Hall) and the singer (P. P. Bliss). At the 
close of the services, while conversing with Brother Bliss, when I inquired oi 
his welfare, he said, " I am happy as a king to-night. This has been one of 
the most joyful days of my life." "Why so?" I asked. "lam just thirty- 
five years old to-day," he replied. " Indeed ; then I congratulate you on your 
present ; and pray tell me how does the review of the past appear ? Has not 
God helped you ? " A glow of gratitude and meekness lightened up his face 
as he said, " Yes, wonderfully ; I am amazed. Oh, how God has helped me." 
Then, grasping my hand, while great tears welled up in his eyes, with all the 
pathos of his soul he said : " Pray for me, that success may not be a tempta 
tion to me." Evidently the great desire of his heart was 

Oh, to be nothing nothing 
Only to lie at His feet. 

Yours in the word and work of the Gospel till Jesus comes, 

W. S. SLY. 
Pastor M. E. Church. 

ST. Louis, Mo., February 10, 1877. 

DEAR SIR ******* y ou 

recollect that whilst engaged at St. Louis, I was a constant attendant at all the 
meetings you two held at the Rink, the First Presbyterian Church (Dr. Gantz's) 
and also at the First Methodist Episcopal Church. I've never forgotten you in 
my daily and evening prayers, and would love to see you once more. Bro. Bliss 
seemed to take deep interest in my spiritual welfare, and he told me that God 
had a work for me to do in a singing capacity, as he had, and he gave me great 
encouragement in that direction. I do not regret his sudden departure from 
earth at all, because God was satisfied with what he had striven hard to do 
while in the body, in saving souls for the Master's use. The harvest is great, 
I know, but then new laborers will spring up, and finish the work left un 
finished by those our Heavenly Father deemed proper to take unto Himself. 
From your Brother in Christ Jesus our Lord, 

JAS. W. 

OWECO, Feb. 9, 1877. 


DEAR SIR In looking over the letters I have received from Mr. Bliss, I find 
one written to me January 28, 1873, in reply to ojie I wrote, informing him of 
the death of one of the members of our church whom he was acquainted with, 
she being the leading soprano singer in our choir and a very active and uselul 
member of our Sabbath School, and in the prime of life. 

He writes : " It has always seemed desirable to me to be permitted to go 
directly from the full activities of Christian life here, to the beautiful mansions 


yonder ; no interim of old age, second childhood, or idle waiting." It seemed 
to me that this had been so literally fulfilled in his case that it might add in 
terest to his biography. You will notice that the word directly is underscored, 
which is the same as it is in his letter to me. His whole letter is full of good 
cheer. It was written just after the church in Chicago was burned, of which 
he speaks, and finally ends up by saying : " But know the living Lord has 
something better for us ; shall rebuild immediately." 

We are glad to see that you have found a man to take Mr. Bliss' place, and 
that you are laboring on in the Master's cause. 

We pray that you may have great success in the work. 

Yours truly, 


DETROIT, MICH., Feb. 3, 1877. 

DEAR BROTHER Though we are comparatively strangers, I trust we are 
trying now to serve the same Master. I say now. As you may remember, in 
the business men's meeting at Kalamazoo, election morning, I spoke to you 
and told you I could not make a start, though I was a church member, I felt 
so guilty on account of my past life. You told me to just take God at His 
word and trust the results with Jesus. I went home and resolved, God being 
ray helper, I would. I told my wife (whom you will probably remember as 
the invalid who came to the four o'clock meeting and requested Brother Bliss 
to sing the Ninety and Nine) of my resolve, and we started there and then, but 
very weak. The next afternoon, Brother Bliss called on us at our house and 
spent about half an hour in singing those sweet songs, in which myself and 
wife joined by special request from that dear brother. He sang " Rock of 
Ages," and related the circumstances under which Mrs. B. composed the tune. 
He then sang " Sowing the Seed." I gave him a little bouquet of violets for 
Mrs. Bliss, and we parted to meet no more on earth. I mention these little 
things as I date all my true Christian experiences to those two meetings one 
with you, the other with him ; and, dear brother, I truly thank God to-night that 
His servants pointed me to God and not to any explanation of their own. I 
did, 1 trust, take God at His word. 

I soon moved to Detroit and here I have joined the Y. M. C. A. and am try 
ing to work for the Master. My prayer to God is to be such an one as the 
blessed Savior will be willing to work through for His name's honor. I have 
several missions to superintend in connection with the Y. M. C. A., and feel that 
I want Brother Whittle to remember me at the Throne of Grace. May our 
blessed Jesus prosper His work in your hands, is my prayer. 

I remain very truly your friend in Christ, 


LINDLET, Steuben Co.,N. Y., Feby. 12, 1877. 

DEAR BROTHER During the summer of 1874, I met a person who heard 
Mr. Bliss sing " Almost Persuaded; " he said he never heard anything like it. 


I shortly saw an advertisement of the Gospel Songs by P. P. Bliss, for sale by 
Church & Co. in Cincinnati, and thought this particular piece must be in it ; 
so, in November, 1874, I sent for the Gospel Songs. Lo and behold, 1 then had 
"Almost Persuaded " my wife being a splendid soprano singer, myself only 
an ordinary bass and we commenced learning them. Every new one we 
commenced was always better than the last one ; so in the course of six 
months we could handle every piece in the book. After these came along the 
Gospel Hymns, and of course we could not do without it. 

In February, 1875, a stranger (by name L. D. Ayers) came in our midst and 
got permission to preach in the Free Methodist Church, the only one here, it 
being a mile from my house. He had been preaching about a week before 1 
thought it worth while to go and hear him ; and when I did go, I was satisfied 
that he was no fanatic. He could not sing, and the singing was very poor. 
I then took hold to help him with the four others, so that the singing was put 
on me. After going a week, I told my wife I could not get along any longer 
with the singing without her help, and that she must go and do the singing, 
which she did. After going a few nights, singing from our old hymn books, 
we then commenced singing one and two pieces of Bliss' on an evening and it 
was just like magic on the preacher and audience, and the house began to fill 
with people from a distance to hear the singing and preaching. About seven 
ty were converted, nearly all heads of families ; backsliders were reclaimed. 
It was indeed a great feast of good things. The preacher admitted, as did nearly 
all, that these Gospel Songs of P. P. Bliss did more than the preaching. The 
result was that a couple of hundred of Gospel Songs are now distributed in 
Tioga valley, including a large number of Gospel Hymns. 

Yours in Christ, 

KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN, Feb. 16, 1877. 

We were holding our watch-night service when the news of the death of 
Brother Bliss and wife came. The 10.30 train of Sunday evening brought us 
a paper at 11, and just before the hour of 12 I made the announcement. I 
never saw anything like it. There were four hundred people in the chapel, 
and all were in deepest sorrow in an instant many in sobs and tears, 
others in silent and solemn meditations and prayer for God to help and 
comfort the poor mother for we then supposed the whole family had gone 

With reference to Brother Bliss' labors, I would say that last Thursday 
evening, at our prayer service, Miss Jessie Ains worth, who has united with our 
church, came to me and said that she was led to the Savior through the sing 
ing of Brother Bliss. I asked her if she could name any particular piece that 
led to her awakening. She said he sang the piece with tho words "Cut it 
down/' referring to the h'g tree, and she felt it meant her. She told me thii 
with rejoicing that she ever heard Brother Bliss. 


There are other individuals, and many of them, I dare say, who have attrib 
uted their conversion to his singing. I am quite sure Brother E. C. C. was 
first awakened by his singing. 

And now a word about our religious state. I may say our condition as a 
society has never been better in the history of the church. There have been 
to date one hundred and seventeen accessions to the Methodist E. Church, and 
scarcely a week that does not bring some new heart to the Blessed Christ. To 
Him be all the glory. 

When we have given the silver trumpets the right sound, till the dear 
Savior says, as in Brother Bliss' case, it is enough, then we will meet Brother 
B. again and the throng of the blood- washed. 

I think of Brother B.'s words and song daily, and endeavor to respond, Yes I 
Yes ! My Savior, Yes 1 

Are your windows open toward Jerusalem ? 

Though as captives here a little while we stay ; 
For the coming of the King in His glory, 

Are you watching day by day ? 

Your Brother, H. F. SPENCER, 

Pastor Methodist Church. 

KALAMAZOO, March, 1877. 

The Gospel in Mr. Bliss' sweet hymns and the Gospel in his own and Mrs. 
Bliss' personal pleading with me led me to Christ. What this interest was in 
Christ-like spirit and faithfulness can be judged by the following incident and 
the two extracts from Mr. Bliss' letters that I enclose : A lady came to me 
since Mr. Bliss' death, and said she had something to say to me, and it was 
this : The evening before Mr. B. left Kalamazoo, Mrs. Bliss came to her after 
the evening meeting and spoke to her about me, asking her to keep her eye 
on me and after she had left to talk to me on the subject of religion, " For," 
said she, "I may never see him again, and I have taken a deep interest in 
him." Oh, Mr. Whittle, how this message comes to me now as from the dead. 
Now I have at least two less to pray for me on earth, but two more in heaven. 
I trust that I may ever hold up the cross of Christ wherever I may be, and at 
last, when God will call on me, that I may be able to say, under standingly, " It 
is well, 1 am ready." Pray for me, Mr. Whittle, for I have a great many things 
to contend with, and above all pray that I may be able to fully overcome my 
greatest enemy, smoking. JOHN xiv, 14. 

Every day I see or hear something about Mr. Bliss. My greatest hope is 
to meet him in heaven. Yours, 

R. H. D. 

I remember once hearing Mr. Bliss talking to old Father Denary, of this place, 
who has but one arm. I^e said, " Well, Father Denary, when we meet in 
Heaven, I shall not know you by your one arm, shall I? Remember, we're 


going home to-morrow." And the tears streamed down the old man's cheeks 
as he answered, " No, thank God, thank God! '" 

The following are Mr. Bliss' letters above referred to : 

JACKSON, MICH., November, 1876. 

Remember still there's more to follow. Do not depend on yourself, but 
look ever to Jesus. He'll carry you through. * * * * Oh, how my heart 
goes out toward you and my dear friends in Kalamazoo. May God bless you 
all. Yours for His sake, 



Your letter gives us much pleasure. May you ever take Jesus as your 
leader, and be an armor-bearer, working for the Lord. When you are sure 
that you are free from everything (you know the old enemy I make this 
fling at), please write to me again. * * * I shall always feel that I 
have an interest in you and your welfare. * * * May God ever bless you 
and have you in His keeping. Mrs. B. and the rest send regards to yourself 
and friends. Yours for His sake, 

BLISS & Co. 

JACKSON, Mich., January 8, 1877. 

BELOVED BROTHER In Jackson, as elsewhere, many hearts are mourning 
for the loved ones in Israel that have fallen. How dear and precious is their 
memory to us. 

You will remember that on the evening of your first Sabbath in Jackson, 
Mr. Bliss came over to the Second Congregational Church. His singing and 
speaking were blessed of God, and on that evening our chorister and wife were 
converted through Mr. Bliss, and joined the church last Sunday. The entire 
congregation were deeply impressed. 

Affectionately your brother in affliction, 

Pastor 2d Cong. Church, Jackson, Mich. 

From Charlie, a little lad in Nashville, who trusts he became a 
Christian in Mr. Bliss' meetings there in April, 1875 : 

NASHYILLB, February 25, 1877. 

I received your kind letter a few weeks ago ; also Mr. Bliss' picture and 
song, for which Ma, my little sister and brother, join me in returning many 


thanks. I wish you to remember me in your prayers. I would be so glad to 
see you. Below I send a copy of Mr. Bliss' letter to uie : 


Mr LITTLE FRIEND Your kind letter was received in due time. We have been flying about 
so that this is the first good chance I have had to reply. Mr. Whittle and I both thank you 
very much for your token of good will to our little boys. They are not old enough to answer, 
but we will keep your gifts for them. We will pray for you. I was, as your mother says, full 
of tun when I was a boy. Mrs. Bliss says I have not gotten over it yet. I do love fun, and 
love to romp and play with my little boys. We have a little baby boy ten months old. Paul 
Bliss is nearly three years old, and I love my friends and music very much ; but that does not 
prevent my loving Jesus. No, I think I love Him all the more for giving me so many pleasant 
things and a cheerful, happy heart. I hope you pray to God every day. Pray for me. My 
love to Sister Annie, for Jesus' sake. Yours in Him, 



[From the St. Paul (Minnesota) Dispatch.] 

In a burst as of heavenly music, he came, 
And heart spoke to heart with each tone ! 

'Twas Christ and His cross was the glorified theme 
Which gathered all hearts into one ! 

We heard him ! it seemed that a seraph had sung 

Enwrapped in a mortal's disguise ! 
But while the deep cadence around us still hung, 

The seraph had pass'd to the skies. 

Oh mourn not for him, or the dear ones he loved, 

For soon was the agony o'er, 
And the jewels God gave him to gladden his life 

Will be his on the evergreen shore ! 

Dear Brother, farewell 1 What wonders desired 

Shall now to thy vision unfold ! 
What chords thou didst touch in thy moments inspired, 

Whose vibrations may never be told ! 

ST. PAUL, January 2, 1877. 




~\T EARLY all of the following have been published in sheet 
_L\ music form by Messrs. Church & Co. The others appeared 
in the Sony Messenger, by the same publishers. The words are 
here given by their permission. 


Dame Fortune smiled upon my youth, 

Gave me kind friends and parents dear, 
Who taught me virtue, love and truth, 

The right to love, the wrong to fear. 

Gave me of learning my small share 

My verse exhibits that is small 
Gave my heart strength its ills to bear, 

Gave health, strength, voice, friends, learning, all. 

Through childhood's days she led me on 

And smiled upon my boyhood years ; 
Her favors all, save wealth, I've won, 

But wealth brings cares and toils and tears. 

She's given me all I'd have her given, 

She's given me cause to hope through life, 
And after life to hope for heaven, 

And next to heaven she's given MY WIFE. 
-\KCADE N. Y., Last day of October, 1874. 

THE WOOD BIRD'S so:tfG. 193 


Farewell, old year, farewell ; 

We can no longer stay ; 
Our spreading sails the breezes swell 

To speed our onward way : 
With song of wave and splash of oar 
We leave thy fond, familiar shore. 

Farewell, old year, farewell ; 

We leave thy sacred shore ; 
Yet oft on thee will mem'ry dwell, 

And count thy treasures o'er, 
While future years will brighter shine 
Reflecting joys as pure as thine. 

Farewell, old year, farewell, 

'Tis late we must be gone ; 
One day, again, thy scenes will tell 

When earthly life is done ; 
One day again thy joys we'll see, 
From earthly ills and sorrows free. 
December, 1869. 


Hear ye not the wood bird's song, 

As it gaily floats along, 

On the breeze so sweet and clear, 

Telling that the spring is near ? 

Cold the winter winds have blown, 

Sad the leafless moan, 

Silent now those perfumed bowers, 

Gone the fragrant, blooming flowers. 

Over prairie, grove and hill, 
Hear that song, so loud and shrill. 
Blessed harbinger of spring, 
Welcome tidings dost thou bring 
Tidings of a brighter clime, 
Tidings of a sweet spring time, 
Blooming flow'ret, bush and tree- 
Songster sweet, we welcome thee. 
April, 1869. 




Over the land of our weal, 

Freedom and union increase ; 
List to the earnest appeal, 
"Let us, oh, let us have peace." 

Members of church and of state, 

Let your iniquities cease ; 
Only the good are the great 
"Let us, oh, let us have peace." 

What though our neighbors do wrong, 

Slander and envy increase ? 
Cheerily join in our song, 
"Let us, oh, let us have peace." 

Fortune to freedom shall yet 
Grant a perpetual release : 
Let us forgive and forget ; 

"Let us, oh, let us have peace." 
August, 1869. 


Pots, kettles and pans, pans, kettles and pots ! 

I'm sick of their sight, and I'd give them all for a bunch of " forget-me-nots ;" 
But my children cannot live on the scent of a nosegay fair ; 
They would much prefer a chicken pie to flow'rets rich and rare, 
But I never complain. 

Tub, boiler and suds, suds, boiler and tub ! 

My arms are red and my fingers are spread, with terrible, terrible rub. 
You may talk of your babbling brooks, you may sing of the streamlets bright ; 
It would take waters of both, I know, to make these clothes white, 
But I never complain. 

Wood, shavings and coal, coal, shavings and wood ! 

My fire has gone out, though I coaxed it as long and patient as any one could 
You may sing of the " Brave Old Oak," you may praise " Mountain Pine," 
I'd rather have some splinters now, to kindle this fire of mine, 
But 1 never complain. 


Pan, duster and broom, broom, duster and pan ! 

I'm worried to death, and I'd give all the world if I'd only been born a man. 

Oh, pity me, ye who dwell in cabins with one small room ; 

Oh, pity me, ye who never know what 'tis to handle a broom. 

But I never complain. 
January, 1870. 


The sad muffled drum sounds the last march of the brave, 
The soldier retreats to his quarters, the grave, 
Under death, whom he owns his Commander-in-chief. 
No more he'll " turn out with the ready relief," 
But in spite of death's terrors and hostile alarms, 
When he hears the last bugle, he'll stand to his arms. 

Farewell, brother soldier, in peace may you rest, 
And light lie the turf on each mouldering breast, 
Until that review when the souls of the brave 
Shall behold their chief ensign, fair mercy's flag wave 
Then, freed from death's terrors and hostile alarms, 
When we hear the last bugle, we'll stand to our arms. 


Written for Daniel's Band, Louisville, Kentucky. 

Boys are wanted, so they say, 
Boys are wanted every day, 
Boys are wanted ; we will pay 
Cash for boys. 

CHORUS. Boys are wanted, brave and true, 
Boys of mind and muscle, too, 
Boys who dare the right to do, 
Faithful boys. 

Boys are wanted, here and there, 
Boys who will for work prepare, 
Boys are wanted everywhere, 
Willing boys. 

Boys to handle hoe and spade, 
Boys to bend who're not afraid, 
Boys to follow any trade, 

Business boya. 


Boys of speech and boys of song. 
Boys to righten many a wrong. 
Boys to help the world along, 
Noble boys. 

Boys the busy world employ, 
Boys, and not self-acting toys, 
Boys are wanted real boys 

Boys, Boys, Boys. 



Do you hear the thrilling sound, floating out upon the air, 

That stills at once the noisy throng ? 
'Tis the tender, pleading tone of a mother's voice in prayer, 

Tis followed by a burst of song. 

CHORUS. Rise, oh rise, the day begins to dawn, 

The shadows flee away, away ; 

We're a faithful praying band, bound to purify the land- 
Our watchword " work and pray." 

In the sweet and holy name of humanity we plead, 

For temperance we sing and pray ; 
For our fathers and our sons and our brothers intercede, 

To drive the demon drink away. 

'Tis the old familiar shout of the army of the Lord, 

The Ruler of the earth and heaven. 
He alone can give the power, He alone can speak the word, 

To Him alone the praise be given. 


Och, list to my sorryfull song, 
For matthers is all goin' wrong : 
And shure I must shpake, 
Or me heart it will break, 
An' I'll not be detainin' ye long. 

SIRE AXD SOi*. 19? 

Bad luck to Miss Kittle McKay, 

She's taken me sinses away, 

Say in' " Monny a shlip twixt 

The cup and the lip." 

Ah, there's monny a shlip now, they say. 

Ah, Kittie was nate as ye plaze, 
Faith, she could make butther and chaze, 
She minded the pig, 
And the praties she'd dig 
In sich illegant, lady-like ways. 
I bought me a rake and a shpade, 
A gim of a gairden I made, 
* Coom tind it," I said, 
But she shook her swate head, 
And I'm wonderf ull sorry indade. 

My shanty I plashtered wid mud, 

And I shtop't all the howels that I could ; 

Thin my blankets I shpread 

Wid new .shtraw in my bed, 

And the matther so pleasantly shtoocL 

Then I towld her my love and intint, 

But she said she wad niver consint, 

And from my poor lip, thin, 

The cup she let shlip,, thin, 

And off wid Mike Rooney she wint. 

And shure, I'll be niver supplied 

While hr shweetness to me is denied. 

Me heart is so lone, 

In me bosom, och, hone 1 

I'd as soon we'd a both of us died. 

Me sorrows to shmodder I'll try, 

Though monny a time will I sigh, 

To think that the cup 

Which others may s up 

Has no dhrop for my two lips so dry. 


Farewell, my son, if thee must go 
To find a western home, 

Thy father's blessings follow thee, 
Though far thy feet may roam. 


Thee was a frail and feeble lad 
How soon to man has grown ; 

Now I am feeble, failing, too 
'Tis hard to stay alone. 

Good cheer, my sire, a year or two, 

And you my home will share, 
In peace and comfort spend your days 

Without a want or care. 
Old neighbor Williams' letter says 

That he is well to do, 
And gives consent to my request 

About his daughter Sue. 

'Tis well, my son. Long since I mind 

Another bright-eyed maid 
How like thy mother is that smile 

But now I'm sore afraid 
Thee'll hardly find a place for me. 

A year how long 'twill be ; 
My son, I may not need thy care ; 

God bless thy home and thee. 

Farewell, my son, though miles away, 

For thee my prayers shall rise 
That heaven may cheer life's fleeting hours 

And peace illume thy skies ; 
My heart to thee will fondly turn 

Where'er my feet may roam ; 
And by and by we'll meet again, 

My son, we'll meet at home. 


There's not a flower that decks the field, 
Nor bud by wayside bower concealed ; 
Whose life a perfume rich doth yield, 

But blooms for me, but blooms for me ; 
There's not a star in yon deep blue, 
That shines with radiance calm and true, 
Nor mirrored in the morning dew, 

But shines for me, but shines for me. 

There's not a heart whose beating thrills 
In sympathy with human ills, 


WTiose longing loving only fills, 

But beats for ine, but beats for me. 
There's not a joy the heart can move, 
No pleasure here, no bliss above, 
No earthly weal, no heavenly love, 

But waits for me, but waits for me. 

The ten songs that follow are published in sheet music form by 
S. Brainard's Sons, Cleveland, Ohio, by whose permission the words 
are here inserted : 


'Tin the heart makes the home, ever brightly to bloom : 
'Tis the heart, 'tis the heart makes the home. 
Through the dark, weary day or in joy's milder ray, 
'Tis the heart, 'tis the heart makes the home. 
Though humble and poor is my cot on the moor, 
The love-light brightly beams through the gloom ; 
Though storms gather round, purest joys here are found. 
And I turn, fondly turn to my home. 

'Tis the heart makes the home, though afar we may roam ; 

'Tis the heart, 'tis the heart makes the home. 

How we turn from the new to the old, tried and true ; 

'Tis the heart, 'tis the heart makes the home. 

No halls of the gay, let them lure as they may, 

Ever charui while the heart longs for home ; 

We laugh o'er our fears, and we smile through our tears, 

Still the home of the heart whispers come. 


With a bright winning smile I remember, 

And a glance of her witching eye so blue, 
Like a soft sunny day in December, 

To my life came my loving little Lou. 
And the dim future way seemed to brighten, 

And life's daily duties dearer, dearer grew, 
And my lone, weary heart seemed to lighten, 

At the thought of my loving little Lou. 

CHORUS. And to-day with my darling here beside me, 

With her loving heart, so noble, kind and true, 
I can battle with the sorrows that betide me, 

For the sake of my loving little Lou. 
By permission of S. BBAINABD^ SONS, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and music. 


Softly down on a calm summer even, 

Shone the stars from the distant dome of blue ; 
But a light brighter far had been given 

To the eye of my loving little Lou. 
As I told her the old simple story, 

To my heart her form I nearer, nearer drew ; 
Just a tear and a smile bright with glory, 

Then I called her my darling little Lou. 

Many years, happy years have departed ; 

Many friends, faithful friends, are lost to view, 
But can I ever bow broken-hearted, 

While I'm blessed with my loving little Lou ? 
No, the dream of the past stealing o'er me 

Gives the present all the fairer, fairer hue, 
While the bright future smiles aye before me, 

With the life of my loving little Lou. 


Oh, what a pretty picture, dear, 

Your likeness, darling Lou, 
'Twill make you jealous yet, I fear, 

It is so much like you. 
A pretty picture, really ; 

I'd know if I shall see, 
But if 'tis very pretty, why, 

It can't look much like me ; 

DUET. Not at all like me, not at all like me? 
Oh, the likeness I don't see, 
Tho' 'tis true, tho' 'tis bright, tho' 'tis beautiful, 
Tho' 'tis true, tho' 'tis bright, tho' 'tis beautiful. 
Oh, 'tis not at all like me, 

Oh, yes, my dear, 'tis true as life, 

And art can do no more. 
It is so very much like you, 

I've kissed it o'er and o'er. 
Ha, ha, 'tis poor, the likeness, sir, 

I do not quite discern, 
But tell me, pray, can you e'er say 

It kissed you in return ? 
* By permission of S. BRAINABD'S 80579, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and music. 


The picture kissed me V now, my dear, 

You surely are in fun, 
For though I kiss it o'er and o'er . 

It never pays me one. 
Ha, then you're wrong, I've caught you now, 

And you will quite agree, 
That if it never kisses back, 

'Tis not at all like me. 

DUET. 'Tis like you, as all can see, 
'Tis like you, as all can see, 
Oh, the likeness you must see, 
So true, so bright, so bright, so beautiful, 
So true, so bright, so beautiful, 
'Tis like you, as all can see. 


All aboard for the depot ; hurrah, we can't wait ; 
Ten minutes to train time, hurry up, you'll be late ! 
Oh, yes, here is room, find a seat near the door ; 
For we're never so full but there's room for one more. 

CHORUS. Room for one more. Room for one more, 

Never so full bfct there's room for one more. 

Room for one more, Room for one more ; 

So we're never so full but there's room for one more. 

There is " room for one more," in the world's omnibus ; 

What need of complaining, or making a fuss ? 

We can bear being crowded, the ride is soon o'er, . 

So we'll just move along and make " room for one more." 3 

There is "room for one more," in the cause that is just, 
Stand firm to your purpose, be patient and trust; 
Though the basement be crowded, the hall running o'er, 
In the broad upper story "there's room for one more." 

There is " room for one more " in the heart that is true ; 
Always room for the worthy, it may be for you ; 
Love's realm is unbounded, its sea has no shore, 
And there's never a heart but has " room for one more." 
* By permission of S. BBAIKAKD'S SONS. Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and r.iuelc. 



Mister Lordly keeps a wallet, so do I, 

He has piles of greenbacks in it, none have I, 

He's no happier with his coupons than am I 

With my little empty wallet light and dry. 

I hide my purse, lest he should see 

The empty thing and pity me. 

His fine wife has dainty fingers, mine has not ; 
But she gives him curtain lectures, mine does not. 
He goes home and gets a scolding, I a kiss ; 
She a frown, but mine a smile and perfect bliss. 
She rules his house, her rights demands 
And holds possession in her hands. 

Mister Lordly has his failings, so have I, 

But he wears his in his bosom, outside I. 

He will leave the world his money by and by, 

I shall leave my friends my metn'ry when I die. 

He's worlds of wealth his own to call, 

I've love and hope, and that is all. 

He has those that court his favor, none have I ; 
But I've wondrous satisfaction, glad am I. 
I'd not change it for his millions, no, not I. 
We must both return our income by-and-by, 
Then pray what difference wfll there be 
Twixt Mister Lordly 's self and me? 


Ten years ago to-day two hearts did fain begin 
To walk in wedlock's winding way, and share their mutual tin ; 
Ten years ago to-day, it seems but yester morn, 
And now they come around and say 'tis time to blow the horn. * 

CHORUS. We come with a clatter and din, we come with a trumpet and tray, 
We come with a tinkle of tin, to welcome our friends to-day ; 
Hear the tinkle, tinkle, tinkle of the tin 
In the dining-room, the kitchen and the hall* 
With a culinary chorus we'll perpetuate the din 
And our wishes for the weal of all. 

* By permission of S. BRAINARD'S SONS, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words aud music. 


Teii years ago 'tis strange, how swift the years have flown 
But you and I don't seem to change, like some that we have known ; 
We love our kith and kin, our friends are ind and true, 
And all our hopes, and loves and tin are just as good as new. 

Then fill the cup to-day, and raise Britannia high, 

Enjoy their luster while we may, 'twill tarnish by and by ; 

The present let us prize, the future welcome in, 

With " crystal," " silver," " golden" joys, we'll never want for tin. 


When the snowy daisies decked the meadows fair, 
And the apple blossoms filled the balmy air ; 
When the verdant woodlands smil'd in beauty rare, 
My Willie came to me a-wooing. 

CHORUS. Darling Willie came across the lea, 

Bright-eyed Willie came a-wooing me ; 
Oh, skip, ye little lambkins, sing, ye birds, in glee, 
For Willie came to me a-wooing. 

Violets he brought me from the shady dell, 
And his loving glances told he loved roe well ; 
But the half he said I'll never, never tell, 
When Willie came to me a-wooing. 

Now the flow'rs have faded with the blooming spring, 
Soon the fruitful autumn brighter joys will bring ; 
Here upon my finger shines a golden ring, 
Since Willie came to me a-wooing. 


John Chinaman, dear sir, since you're making such a stir 
In the waves that wash along our western strand ; 

Stop the jingle of your gong, while we sing our greeting song, 
As you gaze upon our broad and happy land. 

CHORUS. Ho, John Chinaman, now, John Chinaman, 
Leap o'er the crumbling wall, 
Bring along your tea, for don't you see 
We've room enough to welcome all ? 
* By permission of S. BKAIKAKD'S SONS, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and music. 


John Chinaman, Esquire, though we really don't admire 
All the Oriental notions you may bring, 

We have room enough for you, and we've work enough to do, 
And our nation's song of welcome now we sing. 

John Chinaman, they say you have loitered by the way, 
While the nations of the world were marching on, 
So we're waiting now to see what a " forward march " there'll be 
In the future of our distant neighbor, John. 


Oh, listen a while to my tragical tale, 

Be still as you ever can be, 
For I will be heard while I wildly bewail 

The fate of poor Thomas Maltese. 

CHORUS. Ah, pity poor kitty Thomas Maltese ; 

Ah me, ah me, ah me ; ah, pity poor kitty, ah me, ah ine. 

Old Thomas was one of the nicest of cats ; 

So kind, and so clean, and so quick ; 
We s'pose that he used to kill mices and rats, 

But we know that he killed the poor chick. 

Well, what if he did ? must the poor fellow die ? 

You've enough ; do you grudge him a crumb? 
We're all fond of chicken, though may be more sly, 

We're Done of us better than " Tom." 

Old Thomas has been a faithful old friend, 

But now they declare he must die ; 
I'm sorry to think of his terrible end ; 

If I only had time, I would cry. 

Don't kill the poor Thomas ; I think it a sin, 

Because he has seen his " best day ; 
But they'll dig him a grave and they'll tumble him in, 

And that's what he'll get for his pay. 
* By permission of 8. BBAINAED'S SONS, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and mnF5c. 



In her old arm chair she's sitting, 

As in the days of long ago, 
While she's knitting, knitting, knitting, 

Gently rocking to and fro ; 
And a dark'ning thought steals o'er me, 

Like a shadow o'er the lawn, 
Of the lonely days before me 

After grandmother is gone. 

CHORUS. Oh, when grandmamma is gone, when grandmamma is gone, 

And her prayers, and tears and toils for us are o'er, 
Who will cheer us day by day all along our weary way 
To the beautiful, the ever shining shore ? 

Silvered locks beneath the border 

Of her snow-white cap I see, 
" Through a glass," though dimly, fondly, 

Falls her loving gaze on me ; 
On the high, old-fashioned bureau, 

Lies the choicest book she's known ; 
Who will turn its sacred pages 

After grandmamma is gone ? 

Years ago, a dear companion 

Promised her, a blushing bride, 
" To protect, to love, to cherish " 

" E'en till death should them divide." 
O'er a low mound 'neath the willow, 

Summer roses long have blown; 
They will bloom above another 

After grandmamma is gone. 

O'er the hills the sun is setting, 

And the twilight shadows come 
Still she's waiting, waiting, waiting, 

Till the Master calls her home. 
Though I weep for friends departed, 

While they're going one by one, 
I shall have one more in heaven 

After grandmamma is gone. 
* By permission of S. BRAIN ARD'S SONS, Cleveland, owners of Copyright of words and music. 



If you've any task to do, task to do, 

Let me whisper, friend, to you, do it, do it, do it. 

If you've anything to say, thing to say, 

True and needed, yea or nay, say it, say it, say it. 

If you've anything to give, thing to give, 

That another's joy may live, give it, give it, give it. 

If some hollow creed you doubt, creed you doubt, 

Though the whole world hoot and shout, doubt it, doubt it, doubt it. 

If you've any debt to pay, debt to pay, 

Rest you neither night nor day, pay it, pay it, pay it. 

The two compositions following appeared in " The Joy," pub 
lished by Church & Co. in 1873 : 


' ' In me ye may have peace ; 

My peace 1 give to you. 
Rest, troubled soul, rest in the Lord, 
His love will bear thee through. 

" In me ye may have peace ; 

Though wars against thee rise, 
Hope thou in God, be not dismayed, 
Lift up thy weeping eyes. 

" In me ye may have peace ; 

Dear Lord, our refuge be, 

In weal or woe, in life or death, 

We would abide in Thee." 


Welcome, welcome, welcome, 

Messengers of love ! 
Kindred souls with joy are swelling, 

Like the blest above. 


Welcome, welcome, welcome, 

Joy illumes our way ; 
Love shall reign in every bosom 

With, unbounded sway. 

Praises, praises, praises, 

For the sacred past, 
For the mercies, rich, abundant, 

Freely o'er us cast ; 
Praises, praises, praises, 

For the glad to-day, 
For the future, grand and glorious, 

Praise, oh, praise for aye. 



npHE following composition was written by Mr. Bliss when at 
JL school, in 1859 : 

You are aware, my old friends, that you live in an age of darkness and 
ignorance an age in which temptation and depravities are becoming more 
and more numerous. You, too, live in a land of slavery a land on which the 
frowns of a just condemnation shade with an uncommon darkness. The cry 
of the oppressed and howl of the drunkard are ever to be heard on our moun 
tains and in our valleys ; deeds of sin are ever before us ; the wicked strug 
gle that sin may ever be predominant ; and we live to endure the deep curse 
of slavery and poverty which was brought on by the sins of our fathers. These 
considerations seem to forbid that we should ever attempt to elevate ourselves, 
our country, or succeeding generations by the acquirement of knowledge. 

We cannot but remember that ignorance is weakness ; that an ignorant and 
depraved people will ever be slaves ; and that on the ignorance of our youth 
depends the future slavery, the poverty, the misery, the contempt, and the 
disgrace of our despised country. Go on, then, with a contemptible ambition 
and dogged perseverance in the gully which leads to disgrace and dishonor. 
Press downward. Go and gather thorns from the marshes of ignorance ; inhale 
of the foulness therein ; drink deep of their stagnant pools and then join in 
the march of retrogradation. Become ignorant and depraved and you will be 
contemptible. Hate God and disobey Him, and continual unhappiness will be 

In the bound volumes of the Song Messenger, a monthly musical 
publication formerly issued by Root & Cady, now published by John 
Church & Co., are found several contributions from Mr. Bliss, writ 
ten over the pseudonym of Pro Phundo Basso. Mr. Bliss was, at 
the time they were written, connected in a musical w r ay with Root 
& Cady, and at their request contributed these pieces to make 
the paper more spicy and attractive by the vein of fun and good- 


natured satire that runs through these compositions. A few speci 
mens are given, that Mr. Bliss' fun-loving and wit-creating char 
acteristics may be appreciated. 

At ye close of ye Normal Academic of Musick, at Jaftesville, 12th daye of 8th month, 1869. 

I must confess almost of you, 

And take ourselves to thee, 
And then I want to be a while, 

And then well, let us see. 

Gone is our Normal, past, expired 

The hand of mem'ry sweeps 
Backward, still backward, there, I'm wired ; 

Hush, booby, "why these weeps?" 

We've had a good time, haven't we? 

And every one supposes 
Of all the chorus, psalm or glee, 

The biggest thing was " Moses." 

As King of Egypt, I confess, 

He's taken some attention, 
But as a Pennamite, I guess 

That from this ere convention, 

About the sweetest influence shed, 
" Still gently o'er me stealin'," 
As once a brother poet said, 
Is this kind, social feel in'. 

And let's not choke it down with care, 

Nor let the sweet flower perish, 
But keep it blooming fresh and fair, 

And friendly feelings cherish. 

And when life's croquet game is o'er 

And all our arches past, 
May we wild rovers rove no more, 

But hit the port at last. 

Ah, beg your pardon ; by your grace, 

'Twas also my intention, 
If you would grant me time and space, 

Some local points to mention. 


Three cheers for Janes ville I propose, 
Hip, hip ah, that don't bring it ; 

If I'd count, one, two, three, I s'pose . 
You'd all jump up and sing it. 

Such lovely ladies, model men, 

What verse shall sound your praises ? 

Such soothing sidewalks (!), then again 
Such beautiful bouquetses. 

Joy be with Janesville, so say I, 

And so say all of us, 
May thine aquatic fowls hang high, 

Thy singers sing no wuss. 

And now, good bye, Janesvillians, all, 
We take our leave informal ; 

May no sad tho'ts your hearts appal 
At mem'ry of our Normal. 

I cannot stop till I declare 
That no field hand or farmer 

In music's realm can we compare 
With our Prof. H. K. Palmer. 

And though the singers bloom at morn, 

At noon his larynx withers, 
While here for weeks, fatigue we scorn, 

And scale him all to slithers. 

In every heart some seeds of truth 
Strong root have daily taken, 

And oft the sweetest songs of youth 
Will thoughts of Root awaken. 

We came to learn the laws of song, 

And now we go as sudden, 
And won't we keep, thro' all life long, 

Kind thoughts of W. Ludden? 

And yet around the faculty 
My muse immured still lingers, 

To celebrate the praise of he 

Who teacheth " wiggling fingers." 

A model teacher, too, is he, 

Nor doth waste words nor wrath use, 
A man and a musician see 

In W. S. B. Mathewe. 

A LAYE. 211 

Then my friend Titcoinb friend ? Yes, sir, 

Because of genus homo, 
He's more than homo, he is vir, 

They say he's found a chromo. 

All sorts of dispositions here 

We've had, though now dispersing, 

And as we go, I think 'tis clear, 
We've all had first rate Nourse-ing. 

And now I'm done, you think 'tis time ; 

Good bye we're off to-ruorrow ; 
May life be smoother than my rhyme, 

And more of heaven's light borrow. 


Wouldst have renown, dost thirst for fame 
High honors wouldst thou see ? 

Seekst wealthe, withal, and for thy name 
Large popularitie ? 

Harkee. I know a handiwaye 

Of which I'll blaze to thee ; 
My charges ? Naught ! I'll sing my laye 


1 Highwaye to honor," is ye name 

" And immortal itie," 
But of ye plan I dare not claime 

While he his conscience sore must hurt, 

Whate'er his calling be, 
Who doth to wealthe and fame assert 


Do this, and thus thy aims conceal, 

So noted thou shalt be, 
Nor word nor look shall e'er reveal 

Thine ingenuitie. 


First : Love thyself all things above, 
So loved thou shalt be, 

And joy at finding in thy love 

Next : Praise thyself, thyself may bless, 

Thyself continuallie ; 
So shall thy sweet self-praise possess 


And yet two simple souls, I praye, 
Might 'scape ye rules scot free 

Ye mindeful list'ner to my laye, 


December, 1869. 


Written by himself with ye full aud williuge consent of bis lawful and beloved Miranda. 

(In ye tone of A.) 

Twas on a sun full morning, 

All in ye month of May, 
When all ye birds and lambkins 

Did skippe and eke did playe ; 
A songfull youth did saunter 

With hearte so glad and gaye, 
Adown a trodden cow-path, 

Yclept ye " Milkey Waye " 
(Which youth itt was Pro Phundo 

Maybe 'twere good to saye), 
His tunefull voice lamenting 

Of " faithfull ole dogg Traye," 
Whose gentle, kinde attentions 

Nor age nor grieffe could swaye. 

Bewhiles ye kine bereaved 

Most mournfully did braye, 
All for ye youthfull callings 

Ye butcherman did slaye : 
Full many a cock a-crowing 

With many a piping jay, 
To greete ye gladsome morning 

Did cheerfully essaye, 


Likewise to joine Pro Phundo, 

And swell his roundelaye ; 
Ye gorgeous sun aslantwise 

Did send Ins kindest raye ; 
Beglimmering on ye milk paile 

Of Miss Miranda Gray. 

Pro Phundo's hearte did kindle 

As it were kiln-dried haye 
Upon a bar post leaning 

(Long since gone to decaye), 
Ye question there he popped, 

Nor risked to delay, 
Whiles Miss Miranda blithely 

Drew forth ye foaming spray e ; 
Nor fright nor fitt of fainting 

Did she at this betraye, 
But gentlemaidly courage 

And valour did displaye. 
Consented \* hence Pro Phundo 

Pro Phundo is to-day e 

- - ' if 

Come, all ye sad and single, 

Who listen to my laye, 
Attende unto my counsell 

And eke ye same obeye. 
From sweete and solid comfor.te 

Prythee no longer straye ; 
From foolish affectation 

Turn heartily awaye. 
Be honest in your courtshippe, 

And frank also, I praye. 

When to an honest damsell 
An honest youth doth paye 

His honest hearte's affection, 
Why should she answer " Naye ? " 

" Begone ! " her tonge a telling, 
Whiles all her hearte says " staye 1 " 

Pro Phundo and Miranda, 

May all be blest as they. ~ 
Jannary, 1870. 



Miranda says wbitch makes itt so 

I'd better write and tell 
Why into musick I did go, 

And where and how, as well. 

No doubt to me you've noticed oft 

His is ye longest life, 
And eke his head doth lie most soft 

Who most doth please his wyfe. 

So list, give ear, attende while I 

My narrative unfold ; 
So shall my head reposef ull lie 

For doing as I'm tolde. 

'' Why I'm in musick ? " oh, my eye 

I can no clearlier see, 
Than I could guess ye reason why 
Miranda married me I 

Where f 'neath ye tunef ull hemlocks dear 
That roll their anthems grand 

O'er Pennsylvania's northern tier 
Miranda's native land. 

Elk Run first taught me melodie, 
While angling through its dales, 

Its saw-mills gave my rhythm to me, 
Its sun-fish gave me scales. 

Ye friskie fox staccato taught, 

Ye screech owl tremolo ; 
Ye mill wheels mezzo forte brought, 

Ye dam fortissimo. 

Ye scythe whet and ye cross cut's ring, 

Ye ox cart's tenore creake 
Did to my hearte a musick sing 

That words can never speake. 

Thus all things musick brought to me, 
Whitch still to me doth cling, 

Whitch same, I argue, easilie 
Did me to musick bring. 


How into musick I did go 

I'll lastlie saye to thee, 
And of my scantie ways I know 

Thou'lt laugh right inerrilie. 

In '59 resolved I 

Tu " go itt " though so young, 
So started out with purpose high 
" Old Fannie" and ye " pung." 

O'er Bumptown hills and Litchfield's heights, 

By Susquehanna's shore, 
I taught, by tallow candle's light, 

Myself, if no one more. 

In schoolhouse, church and tavern halle 
Ye "singin' skule" was founde; 

But once a week on each I'd call, 
And so I "boarded 'round." 

Two dollars by a night received 

My every waunt supplied, 
Miranda (may I be believed) 

Was also satisfied. 

Through snowdrift, mud and rain I'd ride, 

By turnpike, gulfe or ferrie, 
Miranda nioastlie by my side, 

And we were happy verrie. 

Such lots of friends and worlds of funn 

Would more than fill this letter, 
I'll stop and write another one, 

Miranda says I'd better. 
February, 1870. 


Why do you sing ? Say ? can you tell ? 

Speak, Tenor, Base, Soprano I 
Why all this fuss of " scale" and " swell" 

This " mezzo " and "piano? " 

Why waste at " Normals " time and strength- 
Say nothing of the money 

To talk of " power, pitch and length ? " 
It seems to me so funny. 


Just here 1 want to stop and laugh 
To see Don Quix dismounted, 

When asked the spaces of the staff 
Don't answer till you've counted. 

Then think of taking lessons, too 

A notion universal 
And some,wi*h nothing else to do, 

Frequent the choir rehearsal ! 

Alas, this wanton waste of breath 

Doth rouse my indignation, 
And loudly so my judgment saith 

Demands investigation. 

" Why do you sing? " Here comes Lo Dee 

With voice of mimic thunder ; 
He always flats on fourth space G, 
But that's a minor blunder. 

" Haw, haw ! old boy, who wouldn't sing? 

My treat ; come on," he thundered ; 
" Two thousand from the minstrel ring, 

For chorister twelve hundred." 

" Why do you," ah, who comes ? let's see 

Walk in, Professor Blowhardt; 
They say you sing the tenor B. 
Be seated ; you need no card. 

You say you've left the St. Paul choir. 

I've heard the tale completer ; 
They couldn't raise your sal'ry higher 

Unless they robbed poor Peter. 

" Why do " Miss Hisee is it you ? 

You want a what ? position ? 
But fifteen hundred won't quite do 
For such a fine musician ? 

O, yes you'll advertise, I see, 

With lengthy explanation 
No odds, you say, what liturgy 

Or what denomination. 


Why ! Bless my soul, here's Prima Don 

Signora Al To Etta ! 
With diamond brooch and broad chignon, 

And says " Write me a letter 

To introduce me in St. L 

To Mr. Blank's committee ; 
They say they'll pay their quartet well ; 

I'm tired of this dull city." 

" Jesus loves me, loves me well 

'Twas my little daughter, Nell, 
Out beneath the cherry tree 
Singing quite extempore. 

" Darling, come." I call her twice, 
But the bird-like, childish voice 
Caroled still the sweet refrain, 
So my calling was in vain. 

Then I went and joined her there, 

Kissed her cheeks and stroked her hair, 
" Darling," said I, " Can you tell 

Why you sing ? " Then little Nell 

Raised her witching hazel eyes 

With a look of sweet surprise, 
" Cause I love to," answered she ; 

" Papa, come and sing with me." 
August, 1870. 


'Twas night. Above South Bend the silvery stars 
Shone softly ; and the dust that all day long 
Kept drifting heap on heap, until the streets 
Like turbid rivers rapid rolling seemed 
And on the sidewalk gathered ankle deep ; 
And in the parlor, dining-room and hall 
Flew freely, penetrating everywhere 
In copious showers, begriming hands and face 
In rich abundance, and in clouds profuse 
Eyes, ears, hair, teeth beclouding, was at rest. 


On the veranda, where the cooling breeze, 
Sweet-scented as by water lilies, rose, 
Alone in somber silence, thus I mused : 

" The Normal's ended ; and how brief it seems ; 
Begun half done and, ere we knew it gone, 
And with it what? ****** 

(Some ' skeeters/ I am sure.) 

How rich and wise we came ; and though our friends, 
The teachers and the dear South Benders say 
All right good bye 1 we leave, alas ! how poor, 
And so lament (oh, bother, dogs, be still :) 

Down in the country we were first here last ; 
There king of toadies ; here a toad 'mong kings. 
And what a fall was there, my countrymen, 
When all our princely ornaments did turn 
To warts unseemly. 

Ah, what sickening grief, 
When Maestro Bassini said, Not so ; 
And down to ' Zca, i-a ' with saddened heart 
Ingloriously we tumbled ; 

or when he 

Who touched the keys, and at his bidding gushed 
With limpid, liquid sound the ' silver spring,' 
Our fort(e) demolished with his magic ' touch,' 
And then, like Master Mason as he was, 
On firm foundation taught us how to build 
More lasting structure ; 

or when G. F. R. 

Urbanely smiled and drew with cruel skill 
The lever of our teaching safety valve, 
And all the gas of self-esteem escaped, 
And with a chill of disappointment sore 
We saw the bubble of our fame collapse ; 
Or when a voice from Boston said ' luni turn ! ' 
And we were silent, or ' achieved ' cried, 
' A new created world,' right on the tick.' " 

What wonder we go home disconsolate, 

And fail to see wherein the 'vantage lies 

Of tending Normals thus ? But there's the bell 

Notre Dame 'tis midnight I retire, 


Miranda long in sleep serene hath lain, 

Sweetly unconscious of my whereabouts ; 

Softly my downy couch I seek and so 

To wonted labor, teachers hence repair, 

Though humbled, earnest; though in weakness strong. 

Boast not, but labor patiently; anon 

The glory cometh. 

Bear in mind, 

The empty hogshead makes the louder noise ; 
And brass may glimmer e'en where gold is dim, 
The shallow brook may down the rivers roll, 
And you Whist, Hush ! 

Miranda waketh ; 
I may ' quit.' 

September, 1870. 


Well, there, 

I declare ! 

I can't sing or write a paean 
Fit to sound the praise of Leon, 

Mid this humming, 

Fiddling, drumming, 
Though a pleasant street to be on. 

There, hark ! 

Yes, it's Clark- 
Fife, guitar, triangle, flute, 
Organ, anything to suit, 

Pipe and horn, 

Night and morn, 
Rumpty tumpty, hootty toot. 

Hey, boys, 

What a noise ! 

Ah, I wonder what that air is, 
Wonder if they know what care is I 

Ho, ho, ho ! 

See the show 
1 Who can beat that ? " Rome or Paris ? 


Canst thou imagine a beautiful day 
And a long wagon-box half full o' hay 
A-rolling afar o'er the mountains away, 
Containing a dozen of singers so gay ? 

Canst thou imagine a beautiful tree, 
A-spreading its branches so fair and so free, 
A-saying to you and a- singing to me 
" Evergreen, evergreen mayst thou be ? " 

Canst thou imagine a beautiful bird, 
A-singing the sweetest song you ever heard ? 
Listen thou, listen thou, catch every word, 
So should this bosom by this song be stirred. 

Canst thou imagine a beautiful stream, 
A-babbling, a-babbling along like a dream, 
Like life's low lullaby doth it not seem ? 
Here we uncheck, thus, and water our team. 

(A large snake is seen in the water ; the off horse starts up suddenly, a 
carpet bag falls out behind, etc, etc.) 

'Twas night- 
Clad in white, 

I was sleeping sleeping some ; 

For Miranda was yes dumb ; 
But she woke 
Me and spoke 
The Turks ! The Turks ! They com(b) ! they com(b) ! 

" Then there was hurrying to and fro," 
And I am very much afraid 
I ne'er again on earth shall know 
Another just such serenade ! 

The Leon farmers and their farms 
The floral beauties of the vales, 
Its daughters, daisies matchless charms 
I can't describe my pencil fails. 

Sing? Yes, 

More or less, 

But it isn't my intention 


To describe our Grand Convention 
In this letter, 
Though a better 
Is beyond my comprehension. 
No. 2 Clark street, Leon, New York, October, 1870. 

ROMB, PA., May 23, 1870, 


Is it pretty to sing in the cars ? 

We drew out a thousand miles of music from the " Prize " last week, com- 
itig from Chicago. There was also an opposition quartet, led by a Buffalo edi 
tor, accompanied by spotted pasteboards and a wicker demijohn. Supported 
by some ministerial and musical friends, we opened on them such batteries as 
" The Armor of Light," " ImmanuePs Land," " There's a Light in the Valley," 
etc., which soon compelled them to beat an ignominious retreat, taking their 
demijohn, but leaving a visible odor of poor tobacco and worse whisky. 

But didn't we have a pleasant children's meeting last night, introducing the 
" Prize " as a prize to the delighted Sunday School ? and didn't we enjoy their 
hearty hand-shakings and their boisterous " Thank you, sirs ? " And didn't we 
pick up the bouquets that were thrown for " Remembered," etc., if it was Sunday 

night ? 

" New life I breathe while on the sea," 

Or in " my country home ; " 
And " a farmer's life is the life for me," 
But " there's no place like " Rome. 

And if I had time, 
I'd tell you in rhyme 

The farmer's dolce joys ; 
But such a song 
Would be so long 

That ho, here come the boys 
With an extra hoe, 
And away we go 

To the field to plant the corn ; 
How I love the flowers, 

And the blast of the dinner horn. 


All agree that children sliould sing. The time for discussing that question 
eeased when music, as a science, began to be taught in our common schools ; 
when piano and organ became as common in household furniture as book-case 
and bureau, and when instruction book and sheet music came to be as famil 
iar to our boys and girls as spelling-book and newspaper. 


All know that children love to sing. Next after the adoption of a resolution 
that the birds " can and are hereby authorized to warble," may come the ques 
tion of granting the children God's own bright birds of Paradise permission 
to express their delights in song. All thoughtful, observing people admit the 
power of children's songs. We may question the introduction into Sunday 
Schools of object-teaching, of blackboard exercises, or of the library books ; 
but we must have singing books. A Sunday School may prosper in a dark 
basement room, with low walls and poor ventilation, but music is indispensa 
ble. You may have a flower garden without a fountain, a parlor without 
pictures, or a summer day without the sunshine ; but do not expect a wide 
awake, stirring, effective Sunday School a school that shall enjoy a healthful 
popularity, and be in the highest sense successful, without Sunday School sing 
ing the " Sunshine of Songs." 

Therefore, we are not here to meet the question, " Shall the children sing ? " 
but to suggest WHAT, and HOW. Singing is emotional utterance. Singing 
"earnestly," "heartily," " lustily," as Wesley directs, .is one thing, and a good 
one ; making a loud, harsh, discordant sound is quite another and different 

While all that really deserves the name of music is usually regulated by 
the law of musical form, it does not follow that all emotional utterance is 
singing. All music is sound ; but all sounds are not music. 

What shall the children sing? Unquestionably we cannot be too careful 
to guard against putting a cup of poisoned song to their youthful lips, and yet 
I cannot sympathize with those who would have only doctrinal, didactic, dog 
matic songs, or rather sermons. If a child really sings, he must not only fully 
understand, but love the meaning of the words employed. 

We must not expect the infant class or ten-year-olds to appreciate and 
enjoy as we do that which we call the best, in sentiment or in song. Remem 
ber, " milk for babes, strong meat for men." Make the difference apparent ; 
strive to lead them to a higher musical taste and nobler spiritual enjoyments, 
but do let the children sing of birds as well as of burdens ; of beauty as well 
as of duty ; of earth pleasures as well as of heavenly treasures ; of temporal 
employments as well as of spiritual enjoyments. Let song develop feeling, 
while it never fails to direct and purify the affections. 

I well remember a loving, large- eyed lad who in the day-school could 
scarcely sing the old song of A B C D E F OJ, but that the tears would fall and 
mark the time. The lad knew not why he wept, but the faithful Christian 
teacher turned this mighty motive power to heavenly purposes, and gave these 
outflowing sympathies wholesome food. So the love of song grew and pre 
vailed ; so the channel of the affections widened, and so the lad, though taller 
grown, stands here to plead for song. 

Thank God for simple schpol-day song, 

Scorn not the childish lay ; 
The feeble spark of love-light f anued 

May end iii heavenly day. 


In order to sing 1 properly and profitably, the time must be entirely given to 
and the attention wholly fixed upon the exercise. No slamming of doors, no 
communication among officers, no walking, talking nor parade of visitors 
should be allowed to disturb. We might as well walk or talk during a prose 
prayer (I did not say prosy) as to thus disturb a prayer in verse. I would as 
soon think of speaking to a brother while praying as while singing. 

Then it seems to me the leader of children's singing needs often to say. 
"Not too loud." Earnestness is not always best manifested by loudness. 
Noise is not always power. Besides, more voices are injured by forced, screamy 
sounds than, perhaps, by all other evil means combined. " Like pastor, like 
people ; " BO, like choristers, like choir. If the leader be careless in style, in 
tonation, pronunciation, etc., tbose led will very likely be even more so. 
" Good singing " means, first, sweet, pleasant tones, true intonation, distinct 
articulation, etc. Earnestness, vigor, life, spirit, etc., come afterwards, and 
depend upon the first. Mr. O. Blackman, teacher of music in the high and 
primary schools of Chicago, and author of "Graded Singers," for juvenile 
instruction, says that the Sunday hour in some of the mission schools nearly 
counteracts all the week's work, by this terrible practice of screaming. 

In teaching children new songs, is, perhaps, the greatest care necessary. 
Let the chorister sing over two or three times, in easy, pleasant, correct man 
ner, lines and stanzas of the hymn, thus giving good examples, which in music 
as in morals, are much more powerful than precepts ; especially if precept and 
example differ. 

May not the Sunday School meet once a week, say on Thursday or Friday 
evening, and practice their music ? Now, don't frown and say, " impracticable," 
unless you have tried and found it so. Usually young people are glad enough 
to be called together ; and cannot a " singing meeting " be made interesting and 
profitable? Engage some earnest lady or gentleman leader at a fair salary ; 
if convenient, have a piano or organ to accompany ; invite the choir of the 
church to assist, and singing meetings will "pay." Invariably question the 
children as to the meaning of the difficult and unusual words of the song, so 
that first of all they may be able to sing with the head that is, " with the un 
derstanding." I have a painful recollection of some ridiculous misconceptions 
of such words as " Prone to wander," which I thought meant a long-legged 
fowl wandering in a swamp ! " Fearless I'll launch away," was simply a mis 
pronunciation of lunch away. Nor do I like to admit that my comprehension 
was unusually dull ; in proof of which, let me mention the case of a little imagi 
native listener he sings among the angels now, and can understand their song 
better, 1 am sure who came home from Sunday School one day praising the 
song, but wondering at the request, " Let me die in a harness-shop ! " You 
smile at the mistake ; but is it not a serious neglect not to give the dear chil 
dren more light? One of the greatest evils of fashionable singing is the in 
articulate delivery of words. 

Adaptation of songs to the lesson, especially that of the closing piece, is 
very important, though often disregarded by superintendents and choristers. 
How much more effective a lesson when "harrowed in" by an appropriate 


song ; and, on the other hand, how often have we seen the impression of a 
lesson almost completely removed by the unfortunate introduction of some in 
appropriate rattle-te-bang song, because the children could " make it go" well, 
or visitors were present, and the school must be made to " show off." 

A great need in all Sunday-school work Is sincerity. Nowhere is hypocrisy 
so wofully apparent, so generally tolerated, and so powerfully taught, as in 
singing. What else can we expect when children see the church members 
turning leaves or idly gazing about the room while singing " Nearer, my God, 
to Thee," or witness a solo or quartet display the words, "Jesus, Lover of 
my Soul," to the tune " When the Swallows Homeward Fly ? " Not to speak 
of a singing master who, if he be not otherwise intemperate, stands before 
them with tobacco-stained teeth, or with smoke-tainted breath, singing the 
sweet, pure songs of Zion. 

Above all things, then, sing and thereby teach others to sing feelingly, with 
the spirit. Show your sincerity in song worship, and the children will learn 
to be sincere. In a word, if you would have them sing sweetly, earnestly and 
devotionally, sing thus before them ; for in nothing are children more apt at 
imitation than in singing. 

Sing not alone with lip and voice, 
But with the heart and soul rejoice ; 
Then they that hear will join thy praise, 
And real, heartfelt songs shall raise. 
April, 1873. 


Sunday School worker, do you^appreciate the power of song ? 

Think how readily children catch the meaning of a hymn, and how last 
ing may be its influence. Remember how many have been led to the cleans 
ing Fountain through the instrumentality of song, when argument and en 
treaty have failed. Cannot you, yourself, remember now songs that you heard 
in childhood ? More, can you not recall the very voice and manner in which 
they were sung? While the sermons ably written, well delivered sermons, 
with their nights of oratory and tender appeal where are they? Their very 
texts forgotten ! Their flashing brilliancy lost in the dark sea of forgetfulness, 
at least so far as you are concerned. Not so the song. Many of us can remem 
ber the tunes and hymns sung in church last Sunday. How many can repeat 
the text from which the sermon was published ? 

Fellow-singer, are you not guilty of under-estimating our talents, while we 
may be over-estimating our rights ? Bury not the God-given talent, but with 
all thy powers serve the Master. " Sing unto the Lord, then, all ye people, both 
young men and maidens, old men, and children ; " and let us remember, when 
we stand up in the congregation to sing, that we are either singing to the Lord. 


or (is it possible ?) taking His name in vain! Praising, or playing the hypo 
crite ! Worshiping or mocking ! 

Sing on, then, oh children, teachers, Christians ! and may there be not a few 
who hear, and learn to love the story of the cross, by singing it. Sing on, fellow 
traveler, and may there meet you in the " Better Land" many a redeemed soul 
washed and made white, to whose mortal ear your voice is familiar, and who 
will give thanks eternally for being led thither by the sanctified influence of 
your song. 

June, 1873. 



1. "Write, much. All old masters wrote much ; otherwise they would never 
have obtained what you and I so much desire immortality. For instance, 
what would one page of Shakespeare's " Paradise as you like it," have amounted 
to? Or, read a single paragraph of Mark Twain's " Impudence Abroad," and 
stop ! No, my dear young friend, with the voluminous Beethoven, the pro 
digious Mozart and the everlasting Wagner for your illustrious examples 
write, write, write ! ! 

2. Think well of your own. Nothing can be more unnatural in a young 
author, writer, poet, etc., than lack of appreciation. I speak with much 
earnestness on this point ; for, depend upon it, your reputation at home and 
abroad, nine times out of ten, will be no " freak of fortune" bestowed by fairy 
hands, or thrown gratuitously at your feet by an indulgent public, but will 
begin and end with yourself. 

Think of the youthful Mendelssohn rehearsing snatches of his " Creation " 
before the crowned heads of England and the Sandwich Islands 1 Think of 
the immortal Nero playfully stabbing his youthful associates, so that he might 
gain the first prize in thorough bass and madrigal ! Think of Mephistopheles, 
etc., ad lib. 

3. Live and die poor. Here a great many fail. 'Tis so hard to continually 
and effectually turn a deaf ear to the seductive wiles of earthly riches. Alas I 
how many buds of poesy are choked by sordid thoughts of filthy lucre ! How 
many sweet singers have bren gagged by Mammon's golden chain ! How 
many Fra Diavolos have been lured from zenith of the lofty art by the ignis 
fatuus of earth's glittering gems ! How many a poor singing-master do you 
know, who is likely soon to retire and die in affluence ! 

Remember Edgar A. Poe, who, in spite of " marble bust," his " velvet so fa " 
and " purple lining," was poor as a raven. Remember poor John Howard Paine 
who wrote some sweet verses about home and birds, etc., and then died with 
out one. Remember Rossini, Parepa, etc. ; be careful to live poor and die poor. 

4. Go West ! Doubtless upon this, more than anything else, depends your 
future greatness. By all means follow the star of empire ! What would 
Christopher Columbus have known of fame to-day if he had sailed North from 


Genoa (or even East), instead of West ? Where would the May Flower have 
landed, had she pointed otherwise than West ? Remember, oh, my young Ver- 
dis, Handels, Goethes, Chaucers, Coopers, etc remember the great Yo Semite. 
Remember the great undeveloped future. Remember Brigham Young. 
Remember the Modocs, and go West. 
June, 1873. 


I refer to our vacation. Spiritually, physically and financially, it was a 
success. Here is the record . 

One week visiting at Portage, New York, amid scores of relatives and the 
scenery of the Genesee River, the wildest in creation (the scenery, not the rel 
atives). One week working on the farm, " the dear old farm," in Rome, Penn 
sylvania, and my arm is lame yet. One week convention in Rome, and it was 
joyous (new). One week in Towanda, Pennsylvania, likewise joyful (first 
time). One week in Chester, Vermont, at State Sunday School Convention, 
"Brilliant with Bliss and Sunshine I" (Original.) 

Firstly, then, it paid spiritually. Any man's heart will be rested by going 
home and looking again into the loving faces of his mother and sisters. A 
singing man will be much cheered by taking his own new book and going back 
to his " own native land " for a convention. But how my soul feasted on the 
Sunday School praise meetings, Bible readings, etc., and the wonderful sym 
pathy of the Vermont State Convention. C. M. Wyman, whose name is so pre 
cious to many who will read this, used to teach music in Chester, and his 
brother, remarkably like him, was in the Convention. Do you wonder that I 
enjoyed making mention of his intense Christian character and musical fervor? 
Do you blame me for asking Vermont to send us more such men ? Do you 
suppose I could then and there*sing his own " Immanuel's Land" unmoved? 
Surely, voice and skill are much, but soul and character more. 

Secondly, it paid physically. All singing men are not constitutionally 
lifters. Therefore the variety of digging potatoes for one's own breakfast, of 
splitting kindlings, shaking apple trees, engineering wheelbarrows, etc., to say 
nothing of moving pianos, transferring baggage and carrying valises, babies, 
etc., has been found useful. Depend upon it, my dear fellow-sitter, the think 
ing machine will not " produce " unless some attention be paid to the furnace, 
boiler, pipes, etc. Don't crowd. You're on time ! What's the hurry ? 

Lastly, (and leastly, if we only could see it),, it paid financially. Of course 
the expense was, like many a musical man's expense, greatly in excess of re 
ceipts, but money is worth only what it will bring, and we doubt if ever the 
money expended would have brought us more satisfaction. Somehow the 
" panic " didn't seem to reach Vermont, as they paid and over-paid us, and no 
collection ! I go to Clinton, Missouri, next week, and I hope it will pay. 

Musically and truly, 

P. P. B. 



The ternG* " praise meeting," "service of song," " praise service," etc., have 
of late become quite common in connection with religious gatherings. What 
is the best manner of conducting a praise meeting ? 

First : Every meeting for God's worship should be a praise meeting. We 
always have much for which we should offer praise. " In everything by prayer 
and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto 
God." " The joy of the Lord is your strength," and " whoso offereth praise 
glorifieth Me." 

Many a good sermon has been blown away for want of a hearty hymn to 
harrow it in. Many and many a poor prayer-meeting has dragged its slow 
length along for want of the lubrication of a cheerful praise-spirit manifested 
in some soulful song. 

A special "praise meeting," like any other, can't be worth anything and 
cost nothing. Preparation and percussion are the two p's requisite. Give, a 
meeting-house, with a common-sense platform, a cabinet organ, and one book 
of hynma and tunes to each individual present, good light and perfect ventila 
tion, and he is indeed a heavy minister who can manage to have a dull, unin 
teresting, unprofitable service. Preparation may extend to arrangement of 
hymns selected beforehand, as didactic, descriptive, devotional, etc., and tunes 
as chanting, cantabile, choral, etc., authorship and incidents of hymns and 
tunes, date of composition, etc. ; Bible texts volunteered from the audience, 
on praise, containing the word "praise," or, whom should we praise? why? 
when? where? how? etc., with prayers full of purpose, are among the 
necessary preparations. Percussion in my next. 
DETROIT, October 22, 1874. 

" How did it go off? " is as frequently and as properly asked of a praise 
meeting or any other religious or musical meeting, as of a cannon. 

One very important thing is promptness. Don't wait for anybody, or any 
thing. First, ask a blessing. "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my 
expectation is from Him; "then a familiar hymn and tune which all can sing. 
"Ariel," "Shining Shore," "Rock of Ages," or "Sweet Hour of Prayer," 
will be a good " send off." Urge every one to sing as well as may be, but 
be very careful that no one or two or four sing so well as to separate themselves 
from the rest. When the sun rises, stars disappear. One who sings a little too 
well may discourage a dozen. Stimulate the desire to sing rather than urge 
singing as a duty. 

" Why is ye always a whistlin', Jem ? " asked a laboring man of his fellow. 
" I whistles to make myself happy," said he ; " What for do you ? " "I has 
to whistle 'cause I is happy," was the reply. How many poor Christians we've 
seen singing to make themselves happy; how few have to sing because they 
are happy. Good singing may produce good feeling, but better have the heart 
right, then good singing, true praise, will be 


The Christian's vital breath 
The Christian's native air. 

Don't criticise too severely. Many matters of time, tune, etc., will regulate 
themselves, or, at least, be most improved by being well let alone. And gen 
erally, those who sing at all think they sing pretty well ; so don't waste time 
and breath by scolding. If your congregation had a chance to sing oftener, 
they would sing better. 

The best way to learn to sing is to sing. Make due allowance for the 
modesty of such singers as that good old deacon who said he knew his voice 
was rough and heavy, so in order to not make any discord he always tried to 
keep a little behind the rest ! 

Occasional Scripture texts, illustrations, prayers, etc., will add greatly to the 
interest of a praise meeting. Finally, adjourn just before the meeting is out. 
The best time to stop is just when you feel most like going on. So I stop. 
December, 1874. 


[Of course I write it ; but it's about her.] 

On reading something like this from a letter received from her old fellow in 
New York. She don't know that I read it ; but while she was getting the baby 
to sleep, I peeped into her desk, and as the letter lay there in the further cor 
ner, in plain sight, under some old scrap-books and things, my eye very nat 
urally fell on the following sweet and touching extract : 

" And now my own dear Mirandy, i sympathize for you. If you can't stand it any longer 
fly i will meat you. How can you indure that base one ? i pity you i pity you. M.K. t., 

After reading that and some more, I felt inspired, and sat right down on the 
spur of the occasion, and wrote the following beautiful philippic : 

Pity that blackbird singing on that thorn bush, 
Pity that thorn bush that that blackbird sings on, 
Pity Pro Phundo and the teara he would shed 
Don't pity me, sir. 

Pity that terrier that has a wharf rat caught, 
Pity that wharf rat that a terrier has caught, 
Pity yourself and your own poor wife, but 
Don't pity me, sir. 

We're awful poor, but still we're middling happy, 
We're not to blame for living in Chicago ; 
Some folks may think Pro Phundo is a bore, but 
Don't pity me, sir. 


I am content to board and wash and darn him, 
I am not growing poor by living with him, 
I am not, by a long shot, " Mirandy " 
Don't pity me, sir. 

And ten more similar stanzas, when my feelings overwent me, and I laid 
my head down on my penwiper, and, in the ecstasy so familiar to all poets, 
soon fell asleep. 

March, 1874. 



greater part of the following letters were written by Mr. 
Bliss to his relatives ; the others, to those who were so near 
and dear to him as to seem to be of his own kin. The first one con 
tains the first poetry he is known to have written : 

EAST TROY, July 29, 1855. 

My mind is established, with full purpose of heart, to serve God, to live 
acceptably and be prepared to meet my Judge in peace. Let us be careful to 
love God supremely, and keep His commandments, that He will be willing to 
own us, and that we may all meet around His throne to part no more. 

P. P. B. 

This world is all a fleeting show, 

With trouble, toil and care ; 
Its joys are trivial and we know 

Its pleasures can't endure. 

The best of friends and neighbors part, 

And as we say farewell, 
How often does the tender heart 

With thoughts of friendship swell. 

But if no more on earth we meet, 

Our friendship can't be riven, 
And let us live prepared to greet 

With raptured joy in heaven. 

Written and composed by 



SPRINGFIELD, March 2, 1856. 

With much pleasure I take up my pen to inform you of my condition. At 
present, I am in the enjoyment of good health ; my cough is nearly cured by 
taking good care, and as to my having been hurt, I am sorry you have heard 
of it, for it is entirely well now. The circumstances are thus : Last Friday as 
I was drawing logs with a pair of young oxen, belonging to Mr. Campbell, they 
started while I was astride of the log, hooking the chain, and rolled the log on 
to my left foot, and drew it about twelve feet before I could stop them ; then 
you see I was in a predicament noways desirable ; being entirely alone, and 
some ways from the house. I was obliged to dig away the snow from under 
my foot (a process somewhat tedious) before I could get loose. My boot was 
considerably mangled, but, happy to say, my foot escaped injury, or ifearly so, 
although it was quite painful for a day or two. I was able to go to school the 
next Monday. 

I am sorry to say that yesterday was the last day of our school. Oh, how I 
wish you could have been here. We had a grand exhibition in the Baptist 
Church, before about 200,000,000,000,000 no! no! 200 spectators; and it was 
a show indeed. Such times we had with the gal-gal-gal vaiiic battery and slippers, 
which made us dance whether we felt disposed to or not ; and such good dia 
logues, and everything passed off so interestingly and agreeably that all en 
joyed themselves very well. But when we had finished our performances, and 
had to take the farewell hand and to say good-bye in earnest, I tell you it 
seemed like parting with friends, and indeed it was ; for many an eye was 
filled with tears, and all expressed their wishes that we might meet again, on 
earth ; but 1 have reason to believe that if we are not granted this privilege, the 
greater part of us will meet in heaven, to enjoy each other's friendship forever. 

I have formed a great many acquaintances in my life, but never did I as 
sociate with those that were so dear to my heart, as since I have been here. 
All are so friendly, so charitably disposed, that one cannot but love their 
society. I shall prefer staying in Springfield this summer to any other part of 
the world excepting home. Mr. Campbell wishes me to remain with him this 
summer, but I have made no agreement with him to that effect, nor shall I 
until I hear your minds expressed on the subject. 

For myself I feel as strong in the Lord as ever and have nothing discour 
aging to say to any one, and I thank God I am what I am, and am determined 
that nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ. Pray for me that I may 
make Heaven my home when done with the things of this world. I wish I 
could be at home to enjoy the good of the meetings with you, but you must 
remember me. Give my love to all who take the trouble to inquire after my 

Write often and give me all the news. When you have made any maple 
sugar, j ust send me word, and I will start for home, I reckon ! 

It is still good sleighing here and pretty cold weather too. No news, I be 
lieve, so good bye. In a hurry, 





You will see by the date of this, that I am here, and I can tell you I am 
well, and well satisfied, too, with my situation, being now comfortably located 
in the institution and commenced my collegiate course to-day. I put right 
down to Towanda, Monday afternoon, after I came back from home a-foot ; 
stayed over night ; came up here Tuesday morn and did chores all day ; got 
my board, and was allowed $1.00 to apply on tuition ; since that time have 
earned 50 cts. There is a chance of my getting all the jobs of work I want to 
do, which will pay my way. Board, lodging, washing, lights and fuel, room 
rent included, cost me just .$2.00 per week. Have a nice spacious room on 
tke fourth floor, facing Front St., where I have a full view of the whole city 
and suburbs. A very pleasant place this is, and the people are very hospitable, 
especially the steward and his wife, which will be of great benefit if I can 
retain their good will and friendship, which, of course, I shall strive to do. I 
am a kind of chore-boy, but I am not ashamed of it. I saw wood, bring water, 
sweep rooms at so much apiece, and am resolved to earn every penny I pos 
sibly can honorably. 

To-day we commenced ; just organized; classed off a few classes. Don't 
expect to have much of a school this week ; just got arranged into classes. I 
intended to go to some other school than this, but I guess I could not have 
been better situated. Hear what Mr. Dayton, the steward, says : " Come along 
to school one, two or three terms, and if you can't pay me now, pay me 
after you have earned it ; for if you teach this winter, you can then pay me ; 
so come along." So I've come, and oh, how I Avish I could afford to stay about 
four years ; but it is as it is, and I won't complain, but " do the very best 1 
can," you may be sure. I have taken up Grammar, Algebra, Physiology and 
Latin for my studies during the coming term. 

Towanda is twenty miles east of Troy, a direct line of stages running 
between, and a trusty stage-driver (lucky for me). 

I must close and save some for next time. Expecting to hear from you soon, 
I remain as ever 

Your affectionate Brother, 


KINMUNDT, ILLINOIS, July 9, 1868. 

I have not heard anything from you since we came West. Phe and Mate 
have both written ; Mr. Youngs also, but you have not. We hope you are 
well, and, if so, I think you are becoming quite worldly not to write to any 
oi us. 

We have all good health and times. Warren is in good spirits as usual. 
We have six hours' singing per day. But oh ! how warm the weather I ! Heavy 
thunder showers also. Expect we'll be here till July 24th ; then go up the 
Mississippi River to Winona. Pray for us that we may have a pleasant and 


prosperous journey. Almost every Sabbath I go out to address the Sabbath 
Schools and sing with them. In several towns I have held children's meetings 
at five o'clock, Sabbath, trying to do something for the cause of the Master. 
If He shows me the way for work in this direction and because I like it, I 
think He will I mean to give some considerable time to it, and I write es 
pecially to ask you to pray for me in this field of labor, the Sabbath School. 
Pray that I may be blessed in leading the children to Christ, and glorify God, 
not myself. 

July 9th, 1868. 

July 9th,1838. 

30 years ! ! ! 

Do you remember thirty years ago ? Well, I don't curse the day, as Job 
did. No ; I've been so brought up and so blessed, that it is a good thing for 
me to live, and yet I may say " to die is gain. " 

I'm growing old! but, I'm not sorry. What! sorry to think we are 
"Almost home ;" nearer the "shining shore." Nearer through the swamps 
and snares of this life, nearer the bounds of life eternal ? No, I'm not sorry ' 
Roll on, Roll on. Good bye. Be faithful. Trust in the Lord forever, 

Your son, 

P. P. 

BUSHNELL, ILLINOIS, January 10, 1869. 

This is the Lord's Day, but between the services it seems right, and proper 
to write to you. 

'Tis very pleasant ; not a cloud to be seen, no wind stirring, all is peace 
ful ; the town is quiet, and the bright sun is shining. How this day reminds 
us of that eternal Sabbath, the rest remaining for the people of God. I sup 
pose Pa Young is at home to-day, and has told you all about us. Truly the 
Lord has been very good to us the past year, and we trust Him for the years 
to come. 

I hope you, too, have enjoyed yourself better and are rising to higher life 
and attaining greater spiritual growth than in years before. I make it my daily 
prayer that you may be contented, established in the faith and filled with the 
love of God. 

Your letters for a few months past, and Mr. Young's report in particular, 
lead me to hope your last days will be your best. God grant it ! 

I think we may be home in May. Then what shall I bring you ? I think 
you have been a pretty good little girl, and anything you want, ask for it ! 

Lou is writing to Phe. We are both in the best of health. Lou never had 
go good health, she says, since she can remember. 

There goes the bell ! So good day for this time. May the Lord's word com 
fort and sustain you and us. Your own big boy, 

P. P. 


CARTHAGE, IIXIHOIS, January 29, 1869. 


This is Sunday, a quiet room, good dinner, pleasant day and sleepy wife 
Lou is most sick all favorable for letter- writing. 

My mind, for a few days past though I have been unusually busy has 
dwelt considerably on the departed days and friends. Four years ago ! How 
swift the years go by. Yet, I don't believe I would recall them, or, if in my 
power, stay the flight of time. 

One of Pa's prayer meeting expressions used to be "improve the time." 
This is what we need to do, then the future has no fears, the past no regrets. 

How about " tin wedding ? " Don't you think 'twill be nice ? We couldn't 
afford a wedding when we were married. Now I've tried the goods and think 
I've found a choice article ; so I want to celebrate. Had we better have it in A. P.'s 
new house, on account of more room that is, if they'll let us ? Of course you 
need not say anything of this, to them, or any one else, if you please to keep it. 

May the Lord give you grace for all your trials and save us all in Heaven. 

Your big boy, 


FAIRBUKY, October 31, 1870. 

How do you do ? and how do your women folks do ? Did Lou tell you of 
my silver-tipped "baton" present? Having much 'cess and such good times. 
Wish you and Mate could tend my big conventions all the time. I often thank 
the good Father for giving me voice and talents in my profession. How much 
better for me that He led me out of the humble life in which I was born, and I 
hope better for the world and His cause. I am glad I have such a good sister, 
too. You always remind me so much of Pa. If we all had his faith and trust 
such humility ! but lam glad and thankful we were always poor ; and oh, we 
begin to see dnd feel, how mucli we owe to Pa for his example and influence. 
We may be in better circumstances, but we can hardly hope to lead a better, 
purer, more zealous Christian life. Only if we can meet him " where the 
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest " one of his favorite 
passages. May " Our Father " bless you all. P. P. 

CHICAGO, February 19, 1871. 


I wish I might have written you on your last birthday, which I see by the 
record in Pa's old Bible, was February 16th, 1805. Seventy-six, ah, no, I mean 
sixty-six years old ! Well, the Lord be praised for giving me a mother so old 
and so great and good. I thank Him daily for early influences intended to 
lead me to Christ. For, whatever of poor advantages, small houses, plain 
living, threadbare, patched clothing, back-woods society, and unpleasant recol 
lections of my childhood I have to cherish, this precious thought my 
parents prayed for me, even before I knew the meaning of prayer, and they 


consecrated me to the Lord and His service, nor can a prayer, earnest and 
heartfelt, ever be forgotten before God. I feel the answer to prayer every day. 

Am just home from Sunday School; six hundred and eighty-five present ; 
the Holy Spirit was there also. Pray that the Lord will bless me in the work. 
Pray for my assistant officers, for the choir, some of whom are not Christians. 
Pray, too, for L. M., a young lawyer, almost persuaded, and for C. A. Pray, 
too, for Mr. S., who "can't quite come ; " he knows the way. These three I am 
very anxious about, but many are seeking the kingdom, and I believe these 
will yet be saved. Jesus seems very precious to us in our home ; we talk of 
the Lord, and I love to feel as if He were one of our family really our Father. 

I meant to tell you all about our new house, and describe our daily life, 
how we get up at six ; milk our cow, by setting a pail on the back steps with a 
ticket in it (8c. a quart) ; shake the grate so the fire starts ; make tea, coffee or 
chocolate, sometimes tea and coffee or chocolate, then buckwheat cakes good 
ones flour from Rome, Pennsylvania, country butter, and beef or veal. The 
market man comes twice a week and gets our order for whatever we want, and 
sends a team around with it free of cost. Our fuel is quite a bill ; the rent 
forty dollars ; so our living is very nearly one hundred dollars a month just 
about the same as boarding, and so much nicer. Then we've just bought a P. 
Annie. Yes, sir, after Waiting twelve years, I thought I must have one. 

The bell is ringing for evening service, so I must go. Now don't scold me 
for waiting so long, nor for writing so much. I am very busy on The Charm, 
a copy of which I shall send you as soon as out. Phe must have the first, as 
she named it. Write often. Lou joins in love. 

P. P. B. 

Our darling friend, sweet Mrs. Case, 
The image of your smiling face, 
With rosy cheeks and eyes so bright, 
Seems ever pleading : " Write, do write." 

Since we received your friendly letter, 
My darling wife has grown much better ; 
Enjoys the bliss of bed and table, 
But yet to write seems hardly able. 

Ah, with what joy would we 'uns greet you, 
If at the Normal we could meet you ! 

What " shakes," and " thrills," what cordial k s, 

In case the Cases blest the Blisses. 

Of course, we'll have you at Gustavus', 
But oh, from dusty, long rides save us 
To your house ? " yes, 'tis our decision, 
Provided you have large provision. 


This open question I must pop : 
You didn't tell me where to stop. 
If at Burghill, or if at Greenville, 
Or leave the R. R. at that Mean ville 

Where, one cold midnight, I remember, 
We were dumped out but then, September 
Will be more pleasant. My intention 
Now is to have a loud convention. 

Good-bye, our love to Me. and Addie ; 
Be a good girl and mind your daddie. 

B. P. P. 

CHICAGO, Dec. 8, 1871. 

Thought maybe you would like to hear a few words from us. 

We have been roaming as usual, only a little more so. For instance, in the 
last three weeks we have visited Philadelphia, New York, New Haven, Albany, 
Providence, Boston, and Portland, Maine. 

We left Portland Wednesday morning and arrived home late Thanksgiving 
eve. So we gave our thanks while traveling. We think we have so much to 
be thankful for. The Lord has been very good to us, and we have done so 
little in return. 

Oh I did not tell you what we have been doing East. Mr. Bliss has been 
singing with D. L. Moody in his fire meetings. Mr. Moody is trying to raise 
money to rebuild his Mission Sabbath School. 

We have had a splendid time. You remember how we talked last summer, 
about going to the Jubilee next spring. It is rather uncertain now whether 
we can afford it or not ; but we shall see. 

Are you coming to the Chicago Normal next summer? If so, we shall hope 
to have you with us some of the time. 

We have not much that is elegant here rfow, but we have the most "mag 
nificent inelegance," that the world has ever known. It is almost a miracle 
how the people could put up so many little " shanties " in such a short space 
of time. 

So you see Mac's folks. Remember us to them. Mr. Bliss says ask if Mr. 
Case opens his conventions with prayer. 

That the good Lord may keep you, and bless you and yours, is the earnest 
prayer of your friend, 


Remember us to father and mother, brothers and sisters. Don't forget to 


CHICAGO, January 29, 1873. 

How is it with thee? And thy darling Annie e'l Just about now you are 
preparing for Baconsburg, and Mr. Seward. 

Do you know my wife actually proposed as I have to go East in a few 
weeks, that we come to B. and attend your Convention ! Had it not been for 
an impudent Iowa town calling us away the same week, I do believe we'd a 
been thar ! If this reaches you in Convention don't stop singing Go right on 
with " The Multitude of Angels " and at recess squeeze Mr. Seward's hand 
awfully for me. Don't promise him to be at Binghamton this summer all the 
time ; come to Chicago some. 

Are full of business of all kinds Conven and S. Sch. (which means Sunday 

Mr. Young's wife's brother is with us this winter, kind o' helping round. 

How are the dear friends Mac and Addie ? Bless their hearts ! 

Boston Jibulo is rather doubtful since the fire. I'll tell you, instead of 
going there, you all come here and get used to the climate and city before the 
Normal. I want to see you very much and tell you how we love you ! What's 
the use keepin' such things to one's self all the time ? Seems as if our friends 
are leaving us every day for the " other side." We must talk fast, the boat 
is coming. 

Love to Pa Williams' folks. Do your best. Live near the Lord. Farewell. 

P. P. B. 


We wish ye well ; 
Lou is lying loosely low ! 
Big-eyed Baby PAUL prospers, 
" Sunshine" smiles soothingly. 
" P. P. Jr." jolly ; 

"P.P. Sr." silly! 

[N. B. That last line is composed for the occasion by Mrs. P. P. Bliss.] 

What I mean to communicate is the good news that all is well. Only I 
have to go to Monmouth Monday for a Convention. I don't want to leave home 
one bit, but Brother Hanchett you remember him says come. Chicago seems 
to me very pleasant and friendly, as all the world ever has. 

Wish you lived here. Adieu. 

I must go and sing to baby. He likes me ; you would like him. Come and 
see. P. p. 

CHICAGO, 11, 9, 72. 
DEAR BROTHER C. C. C. c. c. c. c c. 

Your $40 favor received this day. 

Blessings on ye both. 
Grace, mercy, peace, joy, 


Love, gladness, beauty, 
Happiness, cheerfulness, 
Comfort, voice, business, 
Wife, friends, classes, 
Oysters and tight pants 
Be yours forever. 

P. P. B. & Co. are, as usual, digging ditties at my desk. Choir splendid. 
S. S. ditto. The Lord's work going on surely. Wife not very comfort 
able hopeful always. A teacupful of love as strong as boneset to each 
of ye. 

Our horse is no better, and now the stove's got it ! 't won't draw. 

How's Greeley? Poor man. Hurrah for Black! Why don't Grant and 
May write to me ? Tell 'em I have a tip of the old elephant's tusk on my desk 
and will call it " Mizpah," if Grant will find in Genesis what that means. 
Adieu, Adieu. 

P. P. B. 

CHICAGO, January 15, 1873. 

May the Lord be very near to you and bless your soul for the sweet, good 
letter we received to-day. Lou says that ever since we saw you last year, on 
the hill, and at Towanda, your letters have been splendid ; and she never en 
joyed a visit with you so much in the world as the last one. 

Darling Paul, how you would love him! I just begin to appreciate what 
you have done for me ! He is a nice, fat boy ; sleeps and eats well ; has a 
great big head, big blue eyes and indications of light hair. O. P. Young ! 

Lou says as soon as he can go out you shall have a picture. Warren mani 
fested a great deal of pleasure, more than we expected. He often mentions 
him in his letters. Warren is still teaching in Southern Illinois, and can stay 
here in the West as long as he wishes ; plenty of business for him. 

I hope Willie Jennings will do well ; and I can agree with you that per 
haps he needs contact with the world and business. God bless him ; and the 
more I can help him and other of my relations, the better. 

You will find in a box sent to Towanda, a black dress ; have it made " up 
and down," to wear to Chicago ! Won't we have a good re-union, when we all 
get home to heaven? I so want to see Pa Bliss and Reliance Jamie, and the 
blessed JESUS ! ! 

Truth is : the mercy and favor of Our Father in Heaven seem continually 
shining on us, unworthy and unthankful as we are. Oh how we ought to 
praise and love Him. Help us. 

Can't you and your folks find me some stuff for " Song Tree "I " 

Don't go to Boston Jubilee. I don't believe 'twill pay. 

I'm glad 1 ever knew you. 

P. P. B. 



Tried and True, worthy brother and sister. Our partners in the ever 
lasting inheritance. [How thankful ought we to be for such friends !] You 
speak of friends being convenient " to pay in advance," etc. I believe it was 
some such unimportant matter that kept us from the " Feast ival " at Cin 
cinnati. But we are soon to have a " G. B." in Chicagano. Corne and " burst." 

My old mither and sister Jennings are visiting us for a few weeks. They 
both love you as well as they can till they know you better. 

Yes, indeed, the Lord has blessed " Sunshine " greatly. Help us to praise 
Him for it. It's His book any how, and He should have the praise. No end 
of compliments for page 10. 

The Paul boy is in his usual spirits gay and blissful. Next Sunday, I 
think, he will put on his best (McGranahan's) robes and be baptized. 

My " Joy " is full. Sunday School prosperous, thirty joined the church last 
Sunday. We are in our new basement. Kate Cameron died last week. We 
sung her " That City," from " Joy," at her funeral. May we all follow her. 


[To Mrs. W. J. Crafts.] 

CHICAGO, Aug. 7, 1873. 

How kind of you to send a full volume of your sweet things when we 
know you must be very busy. You are not " our debtor," neither, indeed, can 
you ever be ; our lives have been made sweeter and richer by your contact, and 
the oftener you come by letter or by bodily presence, the better for us. 

Yes, thank you and your good mother (how we'd love to see her), the Eye 
Teaching came. It is a rich thing for me, and must do good. Dr. Vincent is 
jolly great and good. Some people are great and good, but can't be jolly. I 
can't like them quite so well. 

By the way, whence comes the song from which you quote, 

Watching and waiting for me ? 

Bro. Hartley gave it all to me, but I am anxious to know if it is copyright. 
No, I don't seem to rest much in hope of seeing a throng of heavenly ones 
waiting and watching for me they might be in better business nor of hear 
ing echoes of my songs there. I want something better. About the best thing 
in Heaven seems to me will be eternal freedom from sin and Jesus' immediate 

There we shall see His face 
And never, never sin. 

If we can will write you from Rome, Pennsylvania, where we must leave 
Paul with hie grandmother. 


We have delightfully cool weather in Chicago this summer. Are very 
much occupied with our N. N. Musical Institute, which is a success. 

Good-bye Bless you, 
love you much. 

CHICAGO, Nov. 1, 1873. 

Eight years ago to-day, Towner, Bliss and wife, "Yankee Boys," arrived 
in Chicago. How God has blessed us all the way. Seems as if He picked me 
out from the beginning ! He must have had His eye on me and on the work 
He was preparing for me when we lived on Elk Run. He has helped us so 
far, and surely He will not let go of us now. 

More and more I am praying for one thing Consecration to Christ. All 
from Him, all for Him, all to Him. 

Aid me by your prayers. May you be a blessing to all and so be always blest. 

P. P. 

CHICAGO, Last day of 1873. Normal. 

Why didn't you stay a week with us? Come back now 

I write on business Real " State" 

Do you wish to sell your puburban soperty at Ridgeland ? I will give you 
$150 a foot for 135 feet ! Provided you will take 13^ feet ! on Church Avenue 
at $1500 a foot in part payment. Seriously help me to be thankful for about 
$500 extra copyright which came yesterday. God is and has been surprising 
me with such success. Help me to make it a real success and not a hin 
drance to my own and others' spiritual which is the real welfare. 

My birthday verse is Prov. xxx 9, (beginning with the 8th verse). Please, 
if you have not seen it, let Mr. Case also see the inclosed criticism on N. N. M. 
I. concert. This is a little pleasanter, but oh, " what difference will there be?" 

I'd rather have a little girl or boy smile in my face and say, "I think you 
are real good," which means though it may be not comprehended " I think 
you are some like Jesus," than to have a column of high sounding praises in 
every newspaper in Chicago. " The things that are .not seen are eternal," I 
tell you ; " the kingdom of heaven is within," and let's you and I get as much 
of it packed up as possible before we take our long journey. Amen. 

I am not forgetting the little songs for you and C. C. 

Forty Kisses 

From three 

CHICAGO, February 7, 1874. 

I thank you for the Portage letter. It is a good one. You must have 
noticed that lately we do enjoy your letters more than we used to do. You 


will let me say it that it seems to us your spirit grows sweeter, and your life 
more even and' calm. It is not surprising that it should be so ; for haven't you 
and your friends prayed for it? If we are in Christ, may we not all expect to 
grow more and more like Him ? Let us try to live in the Vine and bear fruit 
to the honor of His Holy Name. You may be sure we shall pray for you, and 
I never can forget that you prayed for me and watched over me many years 
before I could pray for myself. I love to make mention of praying parents in 
my prayers and conversation. I feel the strength every day of the early relig 
ious training and surroundings just as a man must be benefited all his life 
time by youthful physical exercise. I am determined the godly ancestry shall 
not stop with me, but that Paul shall be the subject of much prayer. He shall 
inherit a good fortune of faith, even if his worldly goods can be tied up in a 
cotton handkerchief, as mine were when I started for Troy. 

Well, we are tired and sleepy to-night. The choir, about frfty in number, 
came in and surprised us last night ; brought a big basket full of pop-corn, 
nuts and candy for their own refreshment, and a beautiful silver tea set, six 
pieces, tea and coffee pots, cream and sugar bowls, butter dish, and spoon- 
holder, frosted finish and finely lettered B. Cost seventy-five dollars. You 
may believe we were surprised and cheered. Bless their kind hearts ! I don't 
know as I shall ever find such a good choir again. I told them, jokingly, if 
I'd known I'd got such a fine present, I might have resigned before ! Now 
when you and Phee come to see us, we can give you better tea, maybe. 

Good night, be good to yourself and Phe. Take care of little Phil, and I 
will remember you in my will. P. P. 

CHICAGO, February 13, 1874. 

All well. Tried again to splash on to you at Conneaut or Burghill, and 
couldn't quite do it. Arrived home last Friday, and the choir had 'sprised us 
with a clothes-basket full of pop-corn, nuts and candy for themselves and a 
set of silver tea things six pieces for us. Bless 'em ! So much I get for 
resigning. Who would not be resigned ? 

I go to Iowa next week, in the region of Br'n Waugh, Rheam, Turgeson, 
et al. Expect a good time. I just tell you we had a grand, good big conven- 
.tion at Honesdale, Pa., "175" singing "Hallelujah Chorus," "How lovely 
are the Messengers," " In Heavenly Love Abiding," etc. This was the country 
of my beginning. a poor village singin' master. Now "the Professah from 
Chicago " with his accomplished lady, wearing better clothes and more hair, 
seemed to make a much profounder effect. I hope we were not vain, but we 
can't deny a little pride at our success. 

Paul Bliss is the blessedest child, fat and healthy, good-natured as as his 
paw, that's me. 

Oh, 1 am writing some such good song& of the prayer-meeting order 
now-a days. 



The Lord has wonderfully blessed "Sunshine Songs." "Calling Now," I 
found at Gustavus', or rather at your house, do you remember? And that 
like Mac's " Heaven for me," has been sung and complimented very much in 
this country and in England. Bro. Sankey is doing wonders in Scotland, with 
Moody. Pray for me and my songs. If it does others half as much good to 
sing them as it does me to write them I am thankful. 

To God be ALL the glory. Our church is to be re-dedicated Sunday. Dohn 
is to lead the music. 

I know not what they'll do. More showy music was demanded, and I re 
signed. I must insist on plain music for devotion in public worship. And I 
can have no sympathy with operatic or fancy music for Sunday. 

Pardon so long a letter ; but I love you. 

P. P. B. 

DEAR TT ~ CHICAGO, Mch. 9, 1874. 

Yours received and oh, how good it seems to have such a sister to write 
such letters. You'll never know how much you help me. Your sweet patient 
life your abiding trust even in the thick darkness and your earnest sisterly 
prayers all help me ; and 1 don't know how much, either. 

But what an accumulation of prayer must be before the throne for some of 
us. And then the dear Jesus praying for us think of that ! Earthly friends 
are good, but what a Friend we have above ! Be sure you are remembered by 
us but how much better by Him. Oh, surprising mercy ! to love His enemies, 
to die to win our love. On His sweet word I'm resting, " I know no safer stand, 
not e'en where glory dwelleth in Immanuel's land." 

I send a book in your name to W. H. The best book I've read in a long 
time " Arthur Bonnicastle." I hope W. H. will succeed. He has the mate 
rial, if he can only cultivate persistent, steady pluck ; if he is not too much 
like his uncle. My prayers are for him ever. 

Lou proposes to send you some things you need, if you will tell. A box 
worth a dollar or $1.50, wouldn't cost more'n 2s. for express. 

She thinks she can buy things here cheaper than you can there. Make out 
a list from silk dresses down to sewing machines. 

I go to Michigan Monday morning. Yours all the way. 

P. P. 

CHICAGO, March 28, '74. 

How is it with ye ? I have some news to say : 

First, I am about to change in fact, have changed my plan of work. In 
tending to write and sing Gospel songs in Gospel meetings, instead of Conven 
tion teaching. So giving all my time, voice and heart to the cause of Christ, 
direct. I've always wanted to do this, and now I can and must. 

Oh ! pray that God may use me and bless my songs (His gift) to the win- 


ning of many precious souls. Praise Him continually for selecting me, even 
me, out of such surroundings, and giving me such honor. You can't imagine 
how perfectly happy I am, and Lou too, already. 

Major Whittle and I were at Waukegan three days and gained by the Holj 
Spirit thirty votes for Christ. He, too, has given up all for Jesus' service, and 
we shall likely go together a good deal. Pray for us. 

Your devoted, 

CHICAGO, June 11, 1874. 

Jude iid. 

I was married before I was twenty-one. I pity poor folks who have to wait 
and wait ! Much valuable time is lost by waiting. 

But I thank Dr. Vincent for favor received, don't you ? How I wish you 
would come and see the Blissful family. Why not ? We have more room now 
than when you were here. Paul would say " De auntie " and " How do unkie." 
Yes, I know girls don't grow old so fast, if married therefore I wanted you 
to marry. 

Chautauqua ? H'm ! Michigan is a much beautifuller lake, and as to boat 
rides, etc., we hope to see some crafts here in Chicago, some day, perhaps a 
fleet of 'em. 

Let ff us hear from you often, please. Who is this W. F. Crafts ? What 
color hair? What church ? Is he rich ? Tall and handsome ? Good affec 
tion, too ? 

Only may he be as happy in married life as has been his and your loving 
friend and brother, P. P. BLISS. 

Maj. Whittle and I are holding meetings, day and night, in the Second 
Presbyterian Church, South Side. 

God is wonderfully blessing us in every way. Help us to praise Him 
for it. 

I am preparing a book of Gospel Songs for our special use, and would be 
right glad to have you send a list of hymns and tunes which have been most 
successful in your experience. And above all, pray for the book. All the good 
in it must come from God. 

CHICAGO, December 11, 1874. 

I beg your pardon for not sending your $2.00 sooner. I have been away 
from home and very busy in Gospel singing at Pittsburgh. 

Lou telegraphed me Tuesday that she and the boys were both sick ; so I 
came home. Will is almost sick, too. I've been flying around after a doctor, 
and got a good nurse. Sophy is a little better, so that she can help Annie, 
and now I guess we are all a little better. 

I can tell you that this Gospel song singing and talking to people about 


Christ and His love will be my business after this. Everything else is poor 
business. I am so thankful for what the dear Lord has done for me since last 
April. Nothing like it. How good God has been to me since first you knew 
me. Help me to praise Him, and pray for me, as I know you will while you 
live. Much happiness to you all. Yours truly, 

P. P. B. 


I can't wait must tell you that the Lord has done and is doing a great and 
mighty work here. Thousands and thousands crowding daily and nightly 
to hear the old-fashioned Gospel of Christ. Three or four meetings daily ; 
200 or 250 arose for prayers Sunday night. This morning I had a glorious 
praise meeting in the hotel. Last evening, in the mass meeting in the hall, 
an immense opera house jammed full 2500 or 3000 people. Among those 
who arose for prayer, and went down into the inquiry room with me, and I 
trust gave her heart to the Lord, was guess who ? My heart is full as 1 
write it V ***D*W****1 Hallelujah! There is joy in heaven. 

If all the meetings had been carried on and only this one result, how richly 
paid I would have been. Yet hundreds of souls just as precious have been 
saved, we believe. Oh! how good God has been and how precious Jejius iny 
Master is to-day. I write in V * * *'s name, who sends her love to you all, 
and asks that you and I set apart Sunday, Feb. 28, to pray for her, and to praise 
the Lord for His goodness. 

Of course you will pray and praise for me. It is in answer to your prayers 
of years ago and to the prayers of him who now dwells in the glory land, that 
God has chosen me. Not a day, hardly a meeting passes but I think, and can 
it be that He has chosen me to be an instrument, a vessel in which to carry 
the water of life to perishing souls ? Oh ! pray daily that I may be a vessel 
sanctitied and meet for the Master's use. 

I must be brief want to go and call on V * * * and see if she is in the 
light this morning. Also want to write to Phe and Lou the news. Five meet 
ings for to-day. I sing. 

All sick at home last I heard. Will had measles ; babies exposed and Lou 
tired. I hope the Lord will take care of them all. I know He will. Love 
to all. Joyfully, 



I send you papers of the meetings, so I needn't write you anything of them ; 
only must say 'tis a glorious calling to be a messenger for such a King and to 
carry such tidings, and to see so much success. 

Oh! pray for me while you live, and rejoice with me that God has set such 


honor upon me. Pray that I have two things, power of the Holy Spirit and 
a humble heart. 

Love to all the dear ones. I expect to come East Syracuse, New York 
State Sunday School Convention, June 8. 

Your happy boy, 
664 W. Monroe, Chicago. P. P. BLISS. 


Very pretty poetry you sent me. Where did you get it? The subject, 
" Hope," has always been my motto, and the Christian's hope! It seems to 
me that I can see Pa now, as he used to stand up in the little old school- house 
and tell his friends and neighbors of his hope, " which was like an anchor to 
the soul, both sure and steadfast ; " or, his hope finally to come off conqueror 
" yea, more than conqueror through Him that loved us," or he hoped we 
would all "be up and doing," and hoped we would all meet him in "the 
bright mansions Jesus has gone to prepare." Oh 1 how dark the world would 
be without " Hope." 

Take fast hold of the promises those blessed promises. " If I go and pre 
pare a place for you, I will come again and receive you," etc. Let's not for 
get who said this ; and won't He come ? We may forget our promises, but 
Jesus never. We may get tired waiting, but He will come and " receive us." 
Oh ! be ready ; and when I get to thinking about it I can't help saying 

How long, dear Savior, oh, how long 
Shall this bright hour delay ? etc. 

Sing that as Pa and Ma used to, on a Sabbath morning, to the tune of 
Northfield, and think of me. 

I hope we are getting nearer the kingdom, making some little progress in 
Divine life ; not as much as could be wished ; but do you remember Gideon's 
band in Scripture, "faint yet pursuing." Oh, trust in the Lord, as Job says, 
"though He slay me yet will I trust in Him." Lord, give us all such trust, 
and save us through Christ our Redeemer. Amen. P. P. 

I believe we should think of Jesus when we pray, as a dear friend really 
listening to us and ready to aid, not as some great power to be dreaded. So 
let us come with boldness, liberty, freedom, believing His word and hoping in 
His mercy. He likes to have us come in earnest, as the poor blind men came, 
saying, " Lord, if Thou wilt," and then He is ready to say " I will." 

CHICAGO, January 9, 1876. 


Happy New Year ! What different circumstances the different years bring 
us. Where and how were we in 1866 ? And January 1, 1856, 1846, etc. This 
is, on many accounts, the best and happiest New Year we ever saw. I cannot 


begin to recount the mercies of the past, nor do I appreciate the blessings of 
the present. I can only say, " The Lord is my Shepherd ; " then I am His 
sheep, and because He cares for me I desire to live for Him. Amen. 

We are all quite well. Paul and George are a little bad-coldish, but so as 
to eat and sleep ; Will and Lou ditto. I came home from Milwaukee last night ; 
have been there six weeks. The meetings for the past week have been greatly 
blessed. Many professed to accept the Gospel. Praise the Lord. Dear Bro. 
Whittle goes to Racine this week. I shall join him on Friday. Next week 
we go to Madison, the capital of Wisconsin, and the week after, the 25th, to 
St. Louis. Please pray for all these places. God will answer. I can testify to 
you that this life of service to Him who hath bought us is a very delightful 
one. My cup of joy has always been full, but in these glorious meetings it 
often runs over ; and I have to-day, Sunday, been at home all day with my 
family, resting and rejoicing. Lou and I have had sweet communion with 
each other and the Lord. I am thankful for a wife who can enter into and 
share the joy of Christian consecration and service. Of course it is the 
greatest trial of our lives, so f&r, to be separated so much, but it seems to me 
especially hard for her. My time is so taken up with the meetings, going 
and seeing, etc., while she is left with the monotonous, every-day duties of 
home life, and that almost like yours, a widow. But nevertheless, the Lord 
has given her a cheerful heart, and she is just as content and reconciled as 
any one could be ; says she would not detain me if she could, and prays, oh, 
so earnestly, for my success and safety. Again, I thank God for a praying 
wife and a praying mother. What would I have been but for both ? The 
Lord only knows. 

Some talk has been had of our coming to Towanda, but now it looks doubt 
ful, at least for the present. If we go South, as invited, from St. Louis to 
Mobile, Montg6mery, Macon, Savannah, etc., shall probably come around to 
New York or somewhere to meet Moody and Sankey, in March or April. This 
is all uncertain, but you can say to all who ask, We do not know. If the Lord 
approves of the plans, I am thinking of coming East about May and remaining 
till September or longer. Then you may not be at all surprised if on New 
Year's, 1877, my letter comes from England. 

I have no plan nor wisdom. Where " He leads I would follow." Pray 
that " upper wisdom " be given us in all these things. 

OWEGO, Tuesday. 

1 meant it, I wish I could be with you. My prayers and best wishes are for 

In Case we can get home to your concert after next, i. e., July 28, may I 
sing my Centennial Gospel Song and have the quartet names on slips inclosed ? 
" Arise and &rine," not yet printed. Our little vis with you yesterday, only 
makes us hungry for more. Don't fail to go to Rome. We must not, cannot 
let go of you. Please write oftener the coming year than you did last. 


I did not sleep a wink last night, went to bed about one. Stage came at 
3.20. " Great is tlie Lord," and " The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of 
trouble," and kindred themes kept running through my mind and with my 
prayers and praises I could not sleep. 

We go on to-morrow morning, and expect to get to New York the 25th. 

Please may we find a love-letter from all of you at Biglow & Main's, 76 East 
Ninth Street, New York ? 

Yours in haste a crowd of relatives are waiting Yours as of old, 


Lou joins in severest love. 

May 8, 1876. 

In regard to your convention, " I pray thee have me excused." This is the 
best kind of convention ticket, and I am full of engagements as long as I live. 
TERMS : " Whosoever will may come." 
INSTRUMENT USED " The Sword of the Spirit." 
TIME " Now is the accepted time." 

While ^ve were yet Sinners, Christ died for us." Romans, v. 8. 



7.30 P. M. each Evening, commencing Dec. 2 1st, 1875, 



Singing by Chorus Choir conducted by P. P. BLISS. Solos by P. P. BLISS. 


In addition to Evening Services, a Noon Meeting will be held at the Academy of 
Music each day from 12 to 1 o'clock, a Bible Eeading from 3 to 4 o'clock, and Young 
People's Meeting from 4 to 5 o'clock. Admission free WITHOUT TICKET. Tickets for 
Evening Services can be obtained without cost, upon application at Wisconsin News 
Co., of Pastors of Churches, or of E. Upson, Chairman Committee, Youug Men's 
Library Rooms, at Academy of Music. 


DEAR k -u""" 1 " AND 

Yours received in Chicago. We didn't stop at Burgville. Put the two 
babies and two girls in a palace car in Chicago, and left the same car in Wa- 


verly, New York, for Towanda our station. You may have heard of Towanda 
before. Some second-class Normal is to be held there this summer ; but 'twont 
be much of a concern 'cause my name isn't on the cireulaire. 

Print, brother, print with care, 

And print " P. P." on your cireulaire. 

However I may be induced to smile on you during the term if you give 
me my "Choice." While in Selma, Alabama, I received the information of 
Towanda Normal, and at once foresaw G. F. R., Mac, and Cases, et al., spending 
a Saturday and Sunday in Rome ten miles away "praise meeting" incur 
church, etc. More than this, D. L. Moody writes me from Chicago: "I 
want to see you, and if you will tell me where you will be I will come and see 
you this summer." Wouldn't it be good to have Moody here when you are ? 

Our boys are pretty well. Paul is a little croupy, running out so much ; 
but George seems better, right away. Wife is somewhat worn and wearied, 
but all things considered, we were never better off. Wish you were as well. 

Love to all the dear Williamses. 

Yours till we see you after that we can't promise. 

P. P. P. 

KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN, November 3, 1876. 

Let me give you a good morning kiss and wish you a " Merry November ! " 

Your last letter was received, I think, and I was glad, of course, as a good 
boy ought to be. 

We have been here two weeks, and about the best two weeks we ever had. 
Your prayers are being answered, and I am thankful for a mother who prays. 
I hope my boys will remember with profit the prayers of their father and 
mother. Please to pray for them, and for those who have care of them. 

We have been to Chicago meetings some, and sent you papers. Oh ! what 
a privilege to live in these days and to be in any way connected with such a 
work of grace ! 

Do you enjoy anything or anybody this winter? How is your health and 
mind and spirit? Is it well with your soul ? 

Song of Solomon, ii, 14, is a sweet verse. It is the Lord speaking to us, His 
children. He wants us to look up and speak to Him. How good He is. What 
grace ! what grace ! I send you a song, 

Hallelujah, what a Savior ! 

Mr. Sankey and I are to have a new book in January. 

Now I must go to prayer-meeting. Guess you'd better direct to Chicago, 
T. M. C. A. 

Don't know how long we'll stay here, nor where we'll go next. Anywhere 
with Jesus. Yours and His son, 




Which amounts to JACKSON, November 18, 1876. 
DEAR " MA:" 

This is our last week here ; next I may write you from Chicago. Yours 
received. I am sorry for your eye. 

Do not cry ; do not cry. 
For I hope it will be better 

By and by, by and by ; 
Wipe it with your little handkerchief, 

Do not sigh, do not sigh, 
You have eyes worth looking out of, 

So have I, so have I. 
Beams and motes are woful bothers, 

In your eye, in your eye, 
But a bile on yours or other's 

Is " too high ! "far too high ! 

I sent C. W. a box of books, but hear nothing from it. Hope they've 
got 'em. 

Thanks for the compliments to my boys. I think you and I have nice sons. 
I want to see my son P. P. Do you want to see yooirs ? Well wait till about 
Christmas, if the Lord will. Lou is making a worsted mat to put on our table. 
I'll have to go and get a table. 

[Closed by Mrs. Bliss.] 

Phil has been called away and his parting words were, "You finish this 
letter." The mat he spoke of is made of shaded worsted from a very dark 
scarlet down to a pink ; I think it will be very handsome. When I was 
keeping house I never found time for any fancy work, and now that I have 
a little time I am trying to improve it. We have sold or given away nearly 
all the things we had, so that when we go to keeping house again we will have 
to start all anew. I have kept my bedding, table linen, and silver, and about 
all the furniture we have is some clothes boxes. So if we ever do get a house 
of our own, I shall have everything new to start with. 

We sent you a paper telling you all about the meetings in Kalamazoo. 
Whittle and Bliss are being very much blessed in their work. There are many 
precious souls born into the Kingdom every day. The Lord is very good to 
us. He keeps our children in such good health, and takes such good care of us. 
We get pretty homesick to see the boys, but must wait until about Christmas. 

It is getting so dark that 1 cannot see ; so please excuse me, 

Hastily yours, 



PEOBIA, ILLINOIS, November 30, "fo. 

Yours with music came duly. Thanks. Have only time to acknowledge 
and hope to see you if we come to Rome, Christmas, as we hope to do. 

Having most blessed meetings here, still praying the Lord to send you 
into singing Gospel -songs in Gospel meetings. 

Glad you could call on my folks at Towanda ; wish I could do as much for 
you. Wishing you a merry Thanksgiving and a Happy " 77," 

Yours as ever, 

P. P. AND Lou B. 

At the time of writing the above letter, Mr. Bliss turned to his 
companion and said "Who is there that McGranahan could go 
with to sing the Gospel ? " A few moments' talk followed, but no 
one could be thought of with whom he would be likely to go. One 
month from the date of this letter, Mr. Bliss was killed and these 
lines are now being added in Dubuque, Iowa ; where Mr. McGrana 
han is sfnging the Gospel in meetings conducted by the companion 
to whom Mr. Bliss that day spoke. His prayers are answered. 

A dearly loved friend of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, in sending copies 
of letters, thus writes: 


Your letter with regard to the memoir you are preparing of Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss came duly to hand. Am sorry I could not have replied sooner. 

1 am very glad that you have undertaken this, for 1 think thereby the world 
will know more of the character of one of the most unselfish, humble Chris 
tians I ever knew. One could not know Mr. Bliss well without being the 
better for it. He has helped me in my Christian life much. I have played for 
his musical conventions held in different times in Illinois, and heard much of 
his teaching in music for the past sixteen years, and the same lovely, simple 
faith has always been very apparent. My first acquaintance with these dear 
friends was in Warsaw, New York, my home before I was married, where 
Mr. B. was employed to lead the choir of. the Congregational Church for six 
months. I belonged to that choir, and under his teaching was made to see more 
in every hymn sung than I had ever before imagined could be found in them. 
He was always careful to have every part of the choir's worship done in the 
most reverential, thoughtful manner possible. His Master's glory was always 
his highest aim. He has had great influence in his convention work, of late 
years. He always opened the morning session with prayer, followed by some 
devotional piece of music, which he would always use with good effect ; and 
then a few words would fall from his lips upon the subject which was so near 


and dear to his heart the saving of souls and all eyes would moisten and 
hearts were touched in many, many instances. 

1 believe the Lord crowned with His blessing all these words. Mr. Bliss' 
pleasant, genial manner made him a favorite wherever he went, especially 
among the young ; so every word spoken by him before the convention was 
treasured and believed. So he has been doing evangelical work for a good 
many years. 

I have copied only such parts of Mr. Bliss' letters as might be of some use 
to you, knowing you will have no time to waste in reading anything else. I 
cannot let them go without expressing my thanks to you for this generous 
work you are doing. I, with hundreds of others, will be so glad to have such 
a memoir. I cannot cease regretting that so many letters which 'might have 
been so useful now are destroyed. Our peculiar circumstances of giving up 
friends and home in pursuit of health called forth many letters, beautiful 
letters of loving sympathy, ever turning our thoughts to the Great Healer, and 
always telling of his own great joy and perfect happiness in working for the 
Master. It was his real, natural life. His father was just such an humble 
earnest Christian before him. 

I have been pained by mistakes made by the press, especially in one case 
where he was said to have been a Christian for the last six years, and another 
saying his wife taught him his first lessons of Divine love. She was a loving, 
faithful wife, but her rich Christian experience was developed under his in 
fluence, instead of as the press stated. N. E. M. 

The following are the letters from Mr. Bliss to which Mrs. M. 
so feelingly alludes : 

DETROIT, MICHIGAN, October the last, 1874. 

Surely no name is too sacred to represent the relationship, though the 
many, many miles stretching between us seem to make us very distant rela 
tives. How much you are both in my thoughts and prayers. It is sad to say 
" good-bye." 

Your penciled note gave us great pleasure, although a portion ("for me") 
had been omitted. Surely our past acquaintance warrants the supposition that 
anything, everything, we may write, will be perfectly understood and gladly 
received by each other. Never destroy, copy, or restrain anything suggested 
in regard to any member of the Bliss family. 

While this is being written you are' being whirled rapidly away, westward, 
chatting gayly of the aunt-elopes or Buffalo (Bills), plowing snow banks, eat 
ing venison, or, it may lH, sending back a thought or word to "664," " Gospel 
Songs," " Paul" and his " corner," etc., etc., while here, in the study of Rev. 
Arthur Tappan Pierson, Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church a mighty 
man, a perfect scholar and such a genial affinity these lines are penned to 


you, though the hour is taken from the noon prayer-meeting. Four meetings 
a day leave little time for anything else. So this may be regarded as home 
missionary work ! 

You will not expect much in this letter concerning Chicago : a very tender 
feeling is awakened by the name ; a gentle " redness of eyes" is induced by 
thoughts of wife and Paul and George. Yet the mighty question of my dear 
Master's business engages with a profound interest my whole soul. While 
the souls of men are dying, and the good news of the glorious Gospel will be 
so eagerly listened to, it is no time to hesitate. 

Dear Lou is trying hard to say, " Go, and God speed thee," and her true 
woman's nature is being so ennobled and consecrated that, with no less love for 
me but so much more for the blessed Jesus and His sweet service, her heart 
has heaven's own rest of peace. 

Morning prayer meeting at eight o'clock, attendance from 100 to 250, led by 
Whittle, Bliss or some other preacher. Bequests by the dozen are read, one 
at a time, and prayer, silent or audible, offered for each one. 

Five persons arose for prayer this morning ; groups of six or more remained 
to talk or pray together. Noon meeting daily at Young Men's Hall. Whittle 
leads to-day. Bible reading every P. M., and to-day a children's meeting at 3 ; 
Gospel meeting at T.30 (prayer meeting at 7) ; and oh, how you would enjoy 
seeing and helping on such a work. Incidents? Details? Where to begin, 
is the only question. Last evening two girls came up to me to " talk religion," 
just in fun ! 'Twas a painful sight ; my heart was grieved the Holy Spirit, 
oh, how much more ! This morning one of them came to prayer meeting and 
spoke of it with grief and penitence. One of the first families have a " high- 
toned" girl who hasn't spoken to her father for three years 1 She is asking 
prayer ; but we told her this morning, How can you ask prayer ? how can you 
pray with such a heart? Scores are being converted hopefully, joyfully, 
scripturally converted. Praise ye the Lord. 

Two weeks more here ; then we go to Pittsburgh. Pray for us there. De 
cember or January will probably bring us to Boston, Massachusetts. 

Anywhere with Jesus. 

You will now be released, as the time for children's meeting is near. Let 
us live near the Lord, be happy, trustful, bold, earnest, real Christians. Serve 
Him who saves us, because we are saved and not to be saved. 
Your names are in my prayers. 

Very sincerely, your brother, 

P. P. 

MH.-WAUKEB, December 30, 1875. 

Our meetings here are good. All the churches united, crowds attending, 
and many professing to be saved by believing the Gospel, the gift of God. 
How I do love to offer it as a free gift and hear the delightful reply, " Why, if 


my debt is paid, and God says it is, I must believe it or make Him a liar." " I 
accept Jesus as my Savior." " Is that the way to be saved?" " I'll live for 
Him who died for me," etc. etc. No joy in this world like this service. 

Mrs. M. introduces another letter with the following prefatory 
note, and tells us the origin of "When Jesus Comes : " 

The following is from our last letter from Mr. Bliss, written a few days 
before his death. You will probably remember the ride to which he alludes, 
about the bluffs and cemetery of Peoria. A few years ago while visiting us at 
Peoria, we took the same places in, in an afternoon drive. It was on a lovely 
October day ; the air was hazy and dreamy, and all nature was clothed in her 
brilliant fall colors, making the cemetery a most charming picture. We drove 
slowly, winding about from path to path, now on the hillside, now in the 
valley, all keeping perfect silence. We all seemed to feel the same quieting 
influence. As we left the carriage to go into the house, Mrs. Bliss burst into 
tears. We went into the parlor together, Mr. Bliss going directly to his own 
room. While in the parlor, Mrs. Bliss told me what beautiful thoughts she had 
been having of her babe in heaven, (it was the fall after the birth of her first 
child,) and said she had never enjoyed a ride so much. All the surrounding 
circumstances had seemed to make her feel an unusual peaceful resignation to 
the loss of that child. Before long, Mr. B. came down with a slip of paper in 
his hand, saying, " Girls, I want to read to you what I have here. See my 
child that was born of that ride. I have never had more peaceful, enjoyable 
thoughts than this afternoon." Turning to me, he said, " Nett, I shall never 
forget that ride." Then he read to us, " When Jesus Comes." I have the 
same slip of paper now, and I need not say, I prize it. 

ROME, PENNSYLVANIA, December 20, 1876. 

We are home for a week or so ; expect to leave the family all here Satur 
day. Probably return to Chicago December 30. 

On my table lie the proof-sheets of "Gospel Hymns No 2," a proposition 
for a Canadian copyright, and an invitation for Whittle and Bliss to come to 
London, England, all of which engage my consideration and prayerful thought. 
I think we may go to England about May 1st. Don't ask me if I shall leave 
my wife and boys. Pray for us in song prayer with thanksgiving. 

The meetings at Peoria were very satisfactory. All the churches united, 
and many professed to accept the " gift of God." 

May the Lord give you great, peace and rest. May all our lamps be trimmed 
and burning " When Jesus comes." Oh, how we missed you at Peoria, on our 
ride round the bluffs, cemetery, etc. I wanted to see " Wib," but failed. 

May the new year bring you abundant blessings. 




rpHE following letters, and extracts from letters, are kindly fur- 
1 nished by a Christian lady, years ago a teacher of Mr. Bilks, 
his first instructor in music, and for whom he always entertained 
sentiments of the highest esteem, gratitude and affection, and whom 
he was led to correspond with in a peculiarly confidential manner 
concerning his spiritual life and plans of work for Christ, seeking 
her counsel and sympathy. This lady thus writes : 

Away back in 1857 I first met Mr. Bliss when he entered tlie Collegiate 
Institute at Towanda, in which school I then had charge of the department 
of music. His complete attention and excellence in the singing class brought 
him especially to my attention and esteem, and my every remembrance of him 
at that time is laden with some grace or goodness of character. Always in the 
true place at the right time, noble, modest and courteous, and of wealth of heart 
and soul he possessed a princely store. A pure, fresh, sweet life consecrated 
thus early to the Lord, unostentatious but sincerely glad to be heard in suppli 
cation or praise and ofttimes in the midst of professors and pupils, I have heard 
him in such humble, reverent prayer that I knew he had learned of Him who 
alone giveth such understanding. I do not know that any of his private letters 
are to have a place or part in the book which you are helping to prepare, 
but if I may modestly and unknown to the public help you in the least partic 
ular to catch any new or more beautiful picture of our lamented friends, I 
shall be satisfied. Perhaps in lifting the veil from a life so loyal and devoted 
to Christ, so faithfully tender to wife, children, home, and friends, you may find 
in these extracts a few gems which you may like to put upon the golden thread 
which is to hold the picture of a man so royal and grand, so loving and sweet. 
After long years of separation, after he had gained new friends, new dignities 
and new honors, as well as superior mental and spiritual attainments, he came 
back to find me, with the gratitude and simplicity of a child, thanking me for 
what I had done for him and begging still to call me "teacher," which name 
I find in the last letter he wrote to me. In his wonderful friendship and 


fidelity, I have found strength, peace and comfort. Always in my greatest 
need his letters came, and if in my invalid days I was ready to weep or faint 
or mourn, I had remembered some word or hymn or benediction of his and 
found courage and peace. 

The following are quotations from Mr. Bliss' letters : 

EOT OP KONTENTMENT, October 6, 1871. 

Had I received your kind invitation sooner, and had the health of Mrs. B. 
been sufficient, you would have seen us on the recent trip East. We spent a 
Sunday in Owego, and are now safe at home again ; but my wife is not well. 
She has been down the valley and almost across the narrow stream. No; I 
don't like such figures. The blessed Lord has led us up the kill, and by the 
gift of suffering made this poor life more glorious and heaven even dearer. 
How glad I am at your saying "Jesus the best of all." May you continue to 
rest in Him ; whether living or dying, be "to " Him ; whether here or yonder, 
be with Him. If you have received the " Charm ". I sent you, let the " Light in 
the Valley" cheer you, "Over Yonder" win 'you, and "Jesus Loves even Me " 
entertain you. The Sunday School and choir and convention work to which I 
have been called seems to prosper. Conventions every week somewhere ; Sun 
day School, 709 last Sunday. Pray for your pupil, that his life may be to many 
what yours is and has been to him. 

[The winter after the great fire, 1872.] 

Forgive me, but I had a real good cry over the pleasant memories of your 
last letter, and since then have been laughing at your mistake in supposing me 
to be anything else than the overgrown, awkward boy you used to be kind to. 
Please don't talk about our being on ahead of you and beg for us to wait for 
you. The best thing in your letter, the best thing about any of us is the re 
flection of the dear Savior's love. Oh, isn't it the name above every name 
precious Jesus ! yes, indeed, we have hugged the interests of the Redeemer's 
kingdom close, and if I could tell you, but I never can here, how His loving 
arms here encircle me and mine. 

Our little " Kot of Kontentment " is on the West Side, nearly a mile from 
the burnt district. The music books, instruments, sheet music, etc. the 
earthly substance in which my plans centered all gone with the Opera House. 
Of course we lost all insurance in "home companies" but I can't say we've 
suffered anything by the fire. Good health and plenty to do ; lots of friends, 
voice and faith ; what need I more ? Now I'll let you rest. Only pray to-night 
for me, that God may use me more and more for His kingdom. Good-bye. 
Wait. Won't we have a good song when we all get home ? " 

256 MEMOIB * P. P. BLISS. 

December 22, 1873. 

I am glad you are only six yeai ahead of me. If I live fast, maybe I can 
quite come up to you yet. I honestly think it's beautiful to grow old one can 
appreciate good things and avoid bad ones so much better. 

And now, my sister, poor as is the prop, unsafe as may be the arm, it 
will be joy to think you do so lean upon it ; to think that you believe in me 
enough to let your tired heart rest in unquestioning confidence, if it may, in 
my sympathy. I do feel sometimes that for Jesus' sake,, I'd like to bear some 
body's burdens, my way is so pleasant, and my life work so agreeable. I can 
only say He leadeth me beside the still waters. And yet I would not boast of 
myself. 'Tis not that I am strong ; more likely 'tis that He in tender mercy 
spares my sad ruin which His omniscience knows a little load would cost. 

I have an offer to lead the music in San Francisco Tabernacle, Handel and 
Haydn Society, & Co., at a salary of $3,000 in gold. Do not press me for rea 
sons for not going. I only mention this to you because I know you will 
rejoice in anything like my prosperity. 

Wife and Paul send much love and unite in an invitation for you to come 
and see us. 

Now I must go. Good bye. I'll send you a new song in a few days. So 
help me by prayer and pen, dear friend, and so use me, heart, hand and voice, 
as He would have you. Be sure that your influence from my first day at T. 
till now, has been only helpful and Christian. My music is the better and 
purer, my life brighter and my heart stronger and larger for your share in 
instructing me. 

January, 1874. 

If the dear Lord so wills it, I'm coming to see you some day, and you shall 
again be my teacher. I have only " Sunshine" and " Joy " in my heart and 
life, and if I might know Him who has given by sharing the gift, I shall be 
the happier. 

CHICAGO, March 10, 1874. 


Your chatty communication containing the " personal heart " letters of the 

far away E is before me. I can't now remember much of her spirit. 

However, these are beautiful Christian letters. A rich and varied experience 
was necessary to develop such a heart. I'll send some music as you direct. 
This, I must say, is another apology only for the elegant, elaborate letter I 

owe you. Going, Going, G , and my train leaves in twenty minutes. But 

between true friends there can be no debit and credit system. Believe me, if 
we had called at your house, or if ever you do come to our " Kot ov Kontent " 
there'll be music or would have been time improved. Bah ! what an awk 
ward sentence ! I'll keep close to the shore after this. 

So we are well, happy, cheerful, content, peace like a river. Wish you the 
same now and ever. I am flying from Iowa to Michigan and stop in Chicago for 
one night to sing my new song, " Work and Pray," at a women's temperance 

Copyrighted. A.S.ames&C? J877. 


song, at a Union Temperance mass meeting. I believe in women, prayer and 
God ; so there's only one side for me in the great crusade. 

George Rodgers, of England, gave one of his world- renowned lectures on 
the " Tabernacle," in our church last evening, and I sang a new song for him, 
" Wishing, Hoping, Knowing." I have a very winning call to London, Eng 
land, for this summer, to sing " Gospel Songs." Shall I go ? 

Wife and Paul send much love. If, when I come home, I can " steal awhile 
away," you may get a letter, song or sermon. 

Till then as ever, Blissfully 


March 31, 1874. 

My dear wife is fully my equal as a performer and far superior in matters 
of taste, criticism, etc. You mistake when you suppose criticism "hurts" 
me. True as Hive, I don't want to know the favorable things said about me, 
nearly so much as I desire to hear objections. 

Since writing you before, the way has been very clearly made known to 
me and my wife, for my immediate future. We have long prayed God to lead 
me into the widest field of efficient labor. He has repeatedly come near to us 
in His delightful, conscious manifestations, and now I am fully persuaded He 
calls me to give my time and energies to writing and singing the Good News. 
I am constrained, by what Christ is and has been to me, to offer all my powers 
directly to His sweet service. Beginning with this desire, prompted, I am sure, 
by the Holy Ghost, lam willing we are willing to leave ourselves where we 
always have been, in our Father's loving hands. He has led us in spite of our 
plans into all and only pleasant and prosperous ways. It's no time to distrust 
or question now. Pardon me if this all sounds like "cant," to you. My 
meaning is to be honest and real. Pray for us, if you can, that I may be 
honored by "helping Jesus." Major Whittle goes with me to preach the 
Gospel while I try to sing it. Our only aim, sincerely, above all else, is to win 
souls to Jesus Christ. 

Yours, in His love, 

P. P. B. 

July 20, 1874. 

I did not see the appropriateness of my trying to write, as my wife ought 
to. Of Paul I can never tell you one half. He is (and always has been) "just 
the right age to be interesting;" has twenty or thirty teeth a large head, 
brown hair, chubby hands, big feet, of course a perfectly healthy, happy 
boy. Can say "Papa's chatterbox," "Mamma's pigeon," and can tease most 
effectually for " Nandy ! " Mrs. Bliss is in excellent health and spirits, as 
usual. As she is not to read this, I must say she is an extraordinary woman. 
You don't know many women of such unselfish devotion, sublime faith and 
child-like trust. She lives so near the Lord that I ought to be a good man. 



Humanly speaking, my life would have been a failure without her. God bless 
her. I am engaged to write and sing Gospel songs in this country this fall 
and winter. Yours for Lou, * 


August 8, 1874. 


I am just home for a day from the State Convention of " Y. M. C. A," Aurora, 
Illinois, and go Monday to S. S. Teachers' Assembly at Chautauqua Lake, New 
York. I wish you were to be there. I wish you could have been yonder. 
But I mind me of a convention soon to be called " of all kindreds and tongues 
and nations," where the theme will be " Hallelujah to the Lamb." To that our 
ardent souls aspire. During that grand convention I'll tell you how good God 
has been to me and mine. 

Dear wife desires me first of all to thank you for the kind letter, and to say 
for her that she is not feeling quite well these days, and begs you will excuse 
her from writing. 

Our Paul boy is just all we could wish, every way, and I perceive we are 
coming to think quite a good deal of him. If and if we could " come to the 
mountain," about September, 1 am sure you would be happy. Pardon me for 
writing on my business paper, but I want you to hear about Gospel Songs, etc. 

Are you teaching, gardening or what? You wouldn't send me a picture of 
yourself, so 1 of course had to make one : Age, 40 ; complexion very fair ; 

height, 5 ft. 2 in. ; weight, 122 Ibs ; hair inclining, ; teeth good ; mouth 

large ; lips thin, and smiling e}'es, blue, large and watery ; dress neat and a 
perfect fit; carriage erect and easy ! How's that? T would all be impolite in 
me but for old acquaintance's sake. However, this " tabernacle" will soon be 
" dissolved," it's the other house I'm most interested in, and I can see that in 
every utterance of your pen, "the things that are not seen are eternal," 
aren't they ? What trifles engage the attention of the king's children ! How 
we dishonor our loving Father by making so much of every thing else and so 
little of His blessed word and kingdom. I know I do God forgive me. 

Specimen "Gospel Songs" inclosed. Pray for them and us. 2 Cor. ix, 
8 = the seven A'&. Yours in Him, 

P. P. B. 

March 18, 1875. 

Major Whittle and I had a series of wonderfully successful Gospel meetings 
in Louisville, Kentucky. We go to Cincinnati, Ohio, March 23. Pray for 
us and write me there, please, care John Church & Co. Wife and sons are 
well and happy and would be so glad to have you come and visit us. Why 
not ? The front chamber will be all ready painted, papered, etc., by the time 
you'll get here and this. I'm away from home much of the time. The piano, 
a glorious upright, is here, and you may have access to a musical library 


Are you in the midst of maple sugar, etc.? When we come to Owego again, 
" It may be for years," etc. 

This singing and talking about the Good News of a present, perfect, free 
salvation and justification by faith is so popular and attractive I don't believe I 
shall ever find time for any thing else ; and seems to me it's needed. How 
much of everything else we hear preached, and how little Gospel. 

I sent you papers from Louisville, will also from Cincinnati. Wife unites 
in love unchanging. Please to rest in it. Yours ever, 

P. P. B. 

The following letters were written by Mr. Bliss to his nephew, 
who is frequently noticed in the preceding chapter, by his initials 
" W. H." This nephew was a member of Mr. Bliss' household for 
some two years during his absence as an evangelist, and was regarded 
by Mr. and Mrs. B. almost as a son. 

OKLAND, INDIANA, December 11, 1871. 

Your good long letter came two days ago. It is a good composition and 
shows a spirit of trust in the Lord and at the same time a desire to help your 
self, which, if continued, must lead to a successful life. 

I am so glad for you that a way is so pleasantly opened for your schooling. 
God bless you in it. As to " agency " or similar means of raising money, I am 
not very favorable to the sort ; still you might try, after study hours, some 
physical labor would seem better. Let me make a proposition if you are quite 
sure that your school is the thing and that you will stay through. I will pay 
your tuition for you. Then perhaps you can earn enough to clothe yourself. 
Of course 'twill be better for you to try (as I know you will) to be helping 
yourself just the same. If you would as soon, I'd like to have you ask me for 
money at any time instead of borrowing elsewhere. DON'T GET IN DEBT. 

You ask my advice. Be easy in old clothes, don't mind any large, coarse 
boots ; stand up straight, look pleasant, speak more cheerfully. I know 
you will succeed as long as you read the Bible and pray much. Watch 
and pray. 

CHICAGO, November 22, 1872. 

May yours be a happy Thanksgiving day ; will it help to make it such if I 
tell you that Aunt Lou and I have been talking a good deal about you, and con 
cluded to say you may expect $10 a month from us after December. That is, 
the first January, 1873, and on the first of each month of the year, I will send 
you check for $10. God bless you with it, my dear boy, and may your mother's 
prayers be answered. 


Would it be well to keep a strict cash account ? Prove to us all that you can 
keep out of debt. As a business matter it is always right for us to recommend 
what we think is a good thing. 

In the things of the Kingdom we should do with our might. I'd be glad to 
have you look at Congregationalism that is, I am so happy in this work and 
with this church, I am desirous of opening its doors to my friends. Did you 
ever say to what denomination you belong ? Of course you should have a 
choice, and learn to love your own, and labor for its good. May the Lord guide 
you into all truth. Pray it earnestly and often. 

Aunt Lou joins in love. 

P. P. B. 

CHICAGO, October 15, 1873. 

I did not receive the letter you mention. I would advise you to teach this 
winter. Your record of work is a good one. " Do not be discouraged " is cheap 
and common advice, but I know you and I will often be discouraged. Prayer, 
asking for faith, and reading the promises are my remedies. Be sure, my dear 
boy, God has great things for us to do and to be. We are all praying for you 
and watching. Farewell. Your uncle 


CHICAGO, February 10, 1874. 

How do you do by this time ? You must not think you have been overlooked, 
forgotten, nor slighted. I have been trying to ascertain what might be the 
best thing to write. Of course I am not competent to advise ; every one must 
decide and act for himself. This has been a hard lesson for me to learn, and 
I've not yet graduated in it. Still, we can by suggestions, etc., often assist 
each other in making conclusions. So I will speak quite freely as we have 
talked. I have a great deal of faith in you, to begin with; or, to speak more 
properly, I've a strong faith in God, and believe He will by various means de 
velop you and in answer to prayers make the most of you. You and I may 
sometimes complain of a lack of opportunities ; or regret inabilities, when, if 
we labor and patiently wait, it will appear that " God's ways were best." If 
we admit that in advance, and then are willing to be led, we certainly must 
come into a cheerful content ; for of course we desire the best in all things. I 
am not sorry to hear that you are with your Pa in the woods ; for 'twas with 
him in such places, 1 learned a great many useful things, and received a good 
education. One thing I am glad to say "Doc." as we used to call him, 
always had a good word of cheer for a fellow, and never by word or example 
led us boys astray. He was a kind, hard-working, pleasant man, whose 
influence was always on the right side. 


After you wrote to me about " medicine," I wrote to Dr. Anderson and 
also went about this city to learn what I could of the' project. The matter, as 
you proposed it, did not shine very brightly to my eyes ; so I've looked about 
in other directions. What would you think of going into a drug store for a 
time ? Or have you abandoned this line of thought entirely ? If in mental 
and spiritual matters you can be as thorough as you are in physical (chopping 
and sawing for instance), you'll succeed. And that is what we are expecting 
of you, old boy I Purpose Pluck PUSH ! Faith in self, in friends, in 
God ; Pluck to plan, to push, to plod, 

[The poetry is original and composed for the occasion ; please commit it to 
heart and commit your heart to it.] I thought of you and prayed most earn 
estly for you as we came through Wellsville. In fact I looked for you a little ; 
didn't know but maybe you'd happen down by the depot. 

Well, really, you must pardon me for such a long letter, and I haven't said 
anything yet. We are all well that begins to sound like a letter Paul is 
awake as usual ; Aunt Lou in the bedroom with him ; Warren off down town 
somewhere ; Chicago lively and lovely. Won't you and your Pa come out and 
make us a visit ? I tell you, we'd be mighty tickled to have you. The old 
ladies switched Chicago in good style, and we weren't ashamed of them. I 
guess we could get along with you. Come and try it. 

I go to Iowa next week. This convention business keeps me sliding in the 
season of it. God bless you. Let me hear from you. 

Truly your Uncle 


May 15, 74. 

Sorry you're sick ; " Beware of dogs." Phil, iii, 2. 

Guess you worked too hard moving us. I am writing up in the beautiful 
study which I found all papered and carpeted and in order waiting for me, last 
week, when I came home from a Gospel meeting trip. Oh, my boy, I rather 
guess I've a wife as is a wife. God bless her this minute. 

What a blessed trial that Mansfield experience was. How did Jennings 
stand it ? Did he show his Bliss ? or did he at the hotel kneel down and say, 
" all right ; all things work together for good ? " 

Of course we are happy and all pretty well. Paul has another tooth and 
Phenie another dress. House in good shape. I spent a very interesting hour 
in the barn to-day, sawing and splitting the kindling boards you hauled. I 
had to think of you considerably. Old Mr. Young, " O. W.," is around yet; 
he seems very feeble; don't get in till midnight sometimes, poor fellow! 

Maj. Whittle and wife come to tea and we have a Gospel meeting on West 
ern Avenue this evening. Expect a good time. We go to Whitewater, 
Wisconsin, next week ; will be there, probably, when you read this. Pray for 
us. Well, good day, 3 John ii. P. P. B. 


DETROIT, October 9, 1874. 

Don't you begin to believe that I don't think of you every day ? I believe 
in you and in the power of prayer and a life of faith. You must succeed, and 
in order to true success, if you would enter into the kingdom of heaven, or of 
science or greatness, you must become as a little child humble and teachable, 
desirous of being led. I trust you have this spirit in a good degree ; keep it ; 
pray for more faith and trust. Don't apply yourself too closely to books 
and such. Don't stay too long in the rat-pit. Make haste slowly. Save time 
by waiting for some things. Save health. Confide everything to your loving 
Aunt Lou. She's a faithful friend, and though her corrections may seem 
grievous, who wouldn't be correct f 

The meetings are immense. Crowds and crowds many standing all 
through, and many had to go away from the door of one of the largest 
churches last evening. Your prayers are being answered. Praise God for it. 
To Him be all, ALL the glory. Amen. his 



DETROIT, November 17, 1874. 
DEAR W. H. J : 

You are in my thought and prayers daily. I am anxious that your sojourn 
in Chicago shall do all for you, in every way, that we hope or God intends. 
I need not say to you, and yet it is a pleasure, your aunt and I are " glad you 
came." Of course I am away so much. The important thing to me is that you 
make it pleasant for her. She says you do that, so I am content. Thank 
God. Only don't let the. mental do injustice to your physical and spiritual 
energies. A holy man means a whole man symmetrical, well-balanced ; so 
have a look, my dear boy, each day, into all things concerning the " full man." 
Confide all to Him who careth for you. Pray for much. Be courteous to all, 
familiar with few, intimate with none. 

Say to the girls that we will be home to breakfast Friday morning and that 
Mr. and Mrs. Whittle will probably be with us, at about 9 o'clock. Don't 
forget this. 

I am glad to hear so good a report from the Bliss boys. Aunt Lou arrived 
this morning and surprised me on my return from prayer-meeting. I am very 
glad she could come. 

The meetings go on grandly; many souls daily profess Christ, and the 
church more and more revived. I have some thrilling incidents to relate, 
when I come home. Pray for the meeting at Dr. Goodwin's church for Sun 
day evening next. Read this little book carefully and hand it to some friend. 
Good bye. Your loving Uncle, 


LoTTisvnxE, February 25, 1875. 

Put in your vote for Aunt Lou to come next week, if she don't come before, 
and she can just as well bring a baby or two as not. Plenty of room and 


servants here, AND I want to see 'em ; I'd like to look in at you to-day. Wish 
you could corne to one of these glorious meetings ; but pray on. The Lord is 
doing a mighty work here. Praise Him. Here's a letter from Harry Moor- 
house, the " boy preacher." I pray for you ; so does Major, every day, and I 
believe you are being led of the Holy Spirit. Let us ask God to correct and 
direct us ; and then be very careful to recognize and follow His leadings. We 
need to ask wisdom daily, and He says " it shall be given him," Math, vii, 7, 
and James i, 5. Now ask. Hastily but heartily, Yours, 


NASHVILLE, May 10, 1875. 

I don't blame you, 'tis too bad ! Pardon me. Your letters are good and 
helpful. Your diagnosis of sin, etc., was a good thing, and I used it. No use 
to try to tell you of our glorious meetings. The papers poorly do that. Oh, 
pray on for me, that I may be humble and empty, fit for use. Your opinion of 
Aunt Lou is quite correct. I believe you are to give her a great deal of com 
fort in answer to prayers for you. Fight on, my brave boy. Faith is Victory. 
Take good care of your health and don't study too close. Send your Aunt Lou 
to this sunny South, if you can. Bite Paul if he bites George. Yes, I send 
papers to Allegany. Telegram just received from Montreal, asking us to stop 
there a week or two on our way to London. Answered we'd come for a few 
days, beginning June 15, the week after New York Convention. God is so 
good to us, and His work so precious. You must excuse me if I talk that as 
you do medicine. Success to you. Live near the Lord, " Looking unto Jesus." 

NASHVILLE, May 12, 1875. 

If your Aunt Lou is not here by the time you get this, you need not read 
it ; for I'll be so disappointed. I'll be ill-natured and won't mean it. I hope 
you are now about getting on the street cars to go to depot, so she'll be here 
to-morrow night. My heart is all flatting out, I think, for want of a wise 
woman to hold it together what do the doctors call it, home-sickness ? The 
climate is beautiful here weather still cold and healthful. If the Lord had 
sent the usual warm weather, all say our meetings would, hnmauly speaking, 
have been much less successful. The people here are so cordial and intense. 
You must never speak harshly of rebels again. 

[This letter commenced by Mrs. Bliss finished by Mr. B.] 

MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE, Saturday, 1875. 

We have just returned from a delightful boat-ride on the grand old Missis 
sippi. It was cool on the boat, and we all feel greatly refreshed. We saw 


them land a mule, which furnished fun enough to last your uncle and Major a 
whole year. And now she is interrupted and this mule continues. We are 
just wallowing in strawberries and cream ; only the berries are a little sour 
and the cream is skim milk. Bouquets are coming in by the basket- full. Aunt 
Lou has been sick as a Swede for two days ; better now. I am well, but it takes 
two collars a day to keep me singing. 

Your letters rejoice our hearts greatly. It is in answer to many prayers 
that God is giving you peace, and I expect you to grow in all grace. God grant 
it. Application is the sure road to success. Stick to your team. 

Yours joyful, 


ROME, Friday, 1875. 

I wonder how you all get along so well as you seem to ; but " God is great 
and God is good." We pray for you every day. Received your telegram and 
the dear boys' pictures last night ; we are very thankful. The picture of Paul 
is splendid. I think George looks a little as if he were attending clinics, but 
am glad for as good a likeness as this. You may get this after we come home, 
so I'll be brief. Expect us Thursday, if not there before. 

A great and powerful work of grace has begun here ; we all know that God 
is with us, and souls are being gathered into the fold. Of all the places in the 
world where I'd love to work for Christ, this old home of ours is the most in 
teresting. Oh, how good it is of my Master to let me tarry here for a few days 
in His sweet service. May He abundantly reward you for helping us. It is 
all for His sake. To Him be the glory. Amen. 

P. P. B. 

CHICAGO, October, 1875. 

I suggested to Mrs. E. Willson to come West by way of Wellsville and call 
on you 'uns. Maybe you've planned to go to Towanda ; if so, so. Do what 
and go where you think best, only always remember Psa. xxxii, 8. In every 
thing believe that He has to you and me. It will be an awful sin 
for either of us to ever doubt it. 

How precious Christ is to me to-day. He has been here in the study all the 
morning. He is looking over now as you read this He says, " Fear not, only 
believe," and I hear your answer, " Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief." 

P. P. B. 

ST. PAUL, October 30, 1875. 

Aunt and I expect to enjoy your success. To see you as the happy proprie 
tor of a first-class pill-shop, and a leading scalawag in your bloody business. Go 
on, I may be sick myself, some day, and you may save me an immense Dr. bill. 


I tried your R for my boil ; but what will now "amuse" me? I have two 
others ! Will send two or three papers, to give away. I have sent to your 
mother and mine, etc. The snow has stopped falling, but 'tis cold and 

An old man told us this morning in prayer-meeting, that "the Gospel net 
is being drawn in ; some self-righteous fish will flop over the top of the net, 
and some low mud suckers creep under ; but a great haul is sure ! " The last 
night in St. Paul was glorious ; but between two verses of a song Whittle told 
them if they smelt fire 'twas some papers in the hall below. 'Twas a narrow 
escape. Some dresses, carpets, etc., burned, but no alarm sounded, or a fearful 
calamity might have prevented this letter. Give thanks for this. 

MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, November 10, 1875. 

1 am as well as could be expected. Aunt Lou came this morning while we 
were at prayers. I expected her on the West Wisconsin Road, arriving at 8.40, 
instead of which she came on the Milwaukee Road at 7.30. She had to run all 
over town to find me, but I was rather pleased to be found. She has now had 
her .breakfast, and when she gets her hair combed up, we think she will look 
pretty decent, for a Chicago creature ! Says she had a pleasant trip, but thinks 
home is pleasant, too ; and if I'd come home 'twould be better yet. I am 
delighted with the report she brings of home affairs, including W. H. Surely 
prayers are being answered, and you and I ought to have more faith. 

The meetings are going on lively ; increased interest ; good results. Don't 
know when we may come home perhaps Monday, maybe Friday, watch ! 

Aunt says tell you that the woman you saw on the train had a cancer ; been 
to Chicago to consult doctors. They pronounced her incurable, and she comes 
home to Minneapolis to die. 

How thankful we all ought to be. God is good. Let us line as we talk 
praising Him who owns us. I want to write to Roxie and Mr. Maynard ; so 
you'll excuse brevity. Pray for us. 

Your unctious Uncle, 


MILKY WALKT, December 8, 1875. 

I hope you are as well as I am ; but what shocking "bad weather," as we 
say for Rush. Really I think we should never find fault with the weather. 
Fault-finding rarely pays, except with one's self, where 'tis hardest to find. 
You have wondered, in a letter, how we could even "endure " you as you were 
last year. Let me assure you of continued "endurance," and I expect an in 
creased interest in you and your welfare. 'Twill be a sad termination to the 
Jennings aud Bliss alliance, the day that we find a tendency to deceit and fal- 


sity on either part. True friendship is honest. We hope to see you through 
your studies and in good condition as to heart and life. I believe you desire 
to be ALL that 'tis possible ; so we will help you all we can, to retain all of 
nobility of character in all things, and to choose all principles of truth and 
excellence from the various channels opened up. I hope you will not adopt a 
habit because I have it, nor because any one else has it, but from choice be 
cause it is good. Of course we will see things in you to criticise ; shall try to 
do it kindly, for I know you want it done ; and may we all be as little children ; 
then only can we successfully enter any kingdom of usefulness and peace. 
God bless you. 

Of the work here I'll only say it is better, apparently, than in any other 
place we have ever been in for the first week. Yet this is a German city a 
phlegmatic people a very "hard place." But so much the more need of 
work ; so much the more honor to Christ in the victory. Four meetings daily, 
and from twenty to forty professing Christ every day. The Jews are growing 
more and more approachable and tender, which makes me hope the Lord is 
the nearer. The Gentiles are rejecting the Gospel according to Scripture. 
Then the Jews shall be gathered in according to Scripture. " Oh, let my lamp 
be burning when Jesus comes," is my prayer. 

Of course I must be allowed to enclose a considerable deal of love to be 
handed over to my dear boys, Paul and George. I hope their mamma will 
have started for " Milwaulkey " before you get this. " Remember me" also 
to Mrs. Maynard, Phenie and Annie. Good P. M. Whittle has gone to Bible 
reading. I must go to young people's meeting. 

Your loving Uncle, 

P. P. 

ST. Louis, February, 14, 1876. 


A happy day to you. Pardon my neglect ; but of course a letter to your 
aunt is intended for " family use" generally, and so when I hear from her I 
hear from you as well. Your interests are ours, and ours, I hope, are to 
some extent yours. Am glad your folks are coming into VVellsville. It looks 
to me as if the Lord might be taking this way to prepare a place for you, and 
especially to have a home at last for your father and mother. They seem to 
need one, and never have had one. Let us pray the Lord to lead in all our 
plans and theirs, constantly. 

The papers are so full of Babcock and whisky trials and tribulations, that 
they have no room for report of our meetings. Three to five thousand souls 
every day ; fifty to one hundred asking prayers, daily ; and individual souls 
hungry for conversation privately, personally, is the condition of things from 
my stand point. Our prayers and expectations are that this last week will be 
the best of all. Pray for us daily. 

I have been to the Missouri Medical College, where the boys at first made 
fun, extemporized burlesque Whittle and Bliss meetings, sung Gospel songs, 


etc. Now they are decidedly serious. All come to the Rink. Some happy 
young converts. One said if we'd continue another week he believed the 
whole college would be converted. They have earnest, bold Christian pro 
fessors. I also had the opportunity of reaching one hundred and fifty young 
ladies in a seminary with good results. 

You gave ine a good illustration of salvation, sanctification, etc., in that 
story of the poor, weak boy who only needed good food to make him well. 
Watch for some more such. 

Give my regards to Roxie and see that she is fed on the Bread of Life. We 
must try to help our friends to be happy, joyous Christians. "The joy of the 
Lord is your strength." Always rejoicing, I am your loving 


MOBILE. Marck 11, Sabbath. 
DEAR W. H. : 

All well. Why don't you one of you write a word, at least, "All well," 
every day ? The last we heard was written Tuesday ; most a week, and we 
get anxious. 

The work here is the greatest and most apparently successful of any we 
ever had. Crowds at every meeting, and many seeking the truth. Young 
people's meeting P. M. is mine ; over one thousand in attendance and one 
hundred or one hundred and fifty standing for prayers. Isn't it good ? I read 
a part of lona's letter, and had prayer offered for her, and I think her letter 
helped to decide many souls. It might not be best to tell her so. 

The weather here is a failure, orange groves a fraud and the bananas a 
humbug. Oh for 664 ! You may look for a package of overcoats and under 
clothing at Re veil's the middle or last of next week. We expect to go to Mont 
gomery Saturday, and begin there Sunday ; so address us accordingly ; here till 
the 18th, if by telegraph ; by mail until the 14th ; then to Montgomery, Alabama. 
We feel confident, from all advices, that you are getting along nicely and we 
expected you would when we left. Our prayers are heard in the morning and 
at evening for you all. Here is a ticket for George, and a picture for Paul. 
Aunt and the Whittles join in love to you all. 

Lovingly, your Uncle. 

MONTGOMBBY, March'20, 1876. 


Yours received. Good. Your throat is doubtless measly. Am encouraged 
about you and your studies. I BELIEVE IN YOU, or I'd never have sent for you. 
You will succeed, and, I expect, be a glorious man, an agreeable companion 
and friend, a good doctor and a pride and joy of all the family. We are praying 
for you to be all that is possible ; and though you and I have some mean flesh in 
us, God's grace can overcome it. Think often of Christ as a personal friend and 
helper, and less of self or what man can do. Our meetings are glorious. The 


Lord is very near to us and all things are working together. The city is being 
flooded with circular letters one kind to Christians, one to unbelievers. A 
mighty work is begun. Your prayers for us all are being answered. Don't 
let go of us. 

Think will be home about April 10th, or 15th. I don't dare to say much about 
it, or you couldn't read my letter, for the tears would blot it so ; and Aunt 
Lou has reception from 12 to 1 and she hasn't time to cry. But we love our 
home and friends. Our boys, dear Paul and George, God bless them and you 
this minute. Your loving Uncle, 

P. P. B. 

MONT-GUM-OR-RYE, or GUM MOUNTAIN, March 24, 1876. 

Sorry you're sick. I should be more inclined to employ you to look after 
my health when you've learned to take care of your own. We are well. 
Three little words, but how much they are worth ; we don't begin to appre 
ciate them, I am sure. Your good letters from home cheer and quiet us in our 

The good Lord is greatly blessing His work here ; we never had more 
blessed meetings anywhere. He is also supplying our wants in other ways, 
bountifully, for which please help us to praise Him. 

Good letters from the Homer House. Thank 'em ; also the 664 folks. Bless 
'em all. Your 

U. P. 

CHICAGO, June 1, 1876. 

You remember I had to take what was the sunny side, this morning, but 
now, at 4 P. M., I'm all right. So in life's journey, bravely endure what you 
can't cure ; your shady side is coming by and by. I've no excuses for writing 
to you so soon ; only to reassure you of our real love for you, both for our rela 
tion's sake and your own sake. I am asking the good Lord, who has so lov 
ingly led me, lo, these many years, to guide you f ally. Ask Him all about 
your plans. Seek to honor Him in all things and He will bless you. Turn 
squarely away from every known evil way of thought and action. Ask the 
Spirit to search you and reveal yourself to yourself ; then " Look to Jesus." 
Believe in your Aunt Lou. Be as good to her as you think of ; she's worth it. 
She did favor my coming, or I'd not have been here to-day ; which you can 
read and apply to yourself, too. If the way does not open for you to find some 
pleasant paying business here, I think you can go home if you don't more 
than pay traveling expenses. 'Twould do you and your folks all a great deal 
of good. That is why I proposed it for the moral effect. You want to be all 
that is possible to your family. Those young brothers must know and love 
you, and personal worth, impress of character, is more than profession or 
money. Now talk more with " Aunt Lou " about yourself, your plans, and 


your future. Accept her suggestions. She is a safe adviser ; and be what you 
are capable of being a cheerful, chatty companion, and a worthy Christian, 
pure and peaceable. 

TOWANDA, June 16, 1876. 
DEAR W. H. : 

We had two glorious praise meetings at Rome, Sunday and Monday nights, 
and yesterday we came to Towanda with divided hearts strongly convicted 
that there was work for us in Rome, yet irresistibly drawn toward our home 
and loved ones. We prepared for our Chicago trip, but prayed for guidance ; 
and went to bed at eleven, still undecided. Talking and praying at twelve 
o'clock, the minister from Rome drove up and said they had had two meetings 
that day and voted unanimously that I should return. We could not fail to re 
cognize that as the answer to prayer, and so have decided to go back to what 
we believe to be the work the Lord hath appointed us. Souls are anxious and 
we have faith that a great blessing awaits our dear village of Rome. Pray 
for us. 

Shall probably stay over Sunday and may not stop at Wellsville on our way 
home. If, for any reason, you think best, telegraph to Towanda, Pennsylvania, 
and Aunt Lou will start any day for Chicago straight. Hope the girls have got 
dresses all made and will have a nice time at the picnic. I wish they and my 
two boys were here. The Lord reward Mrs. Johnson for her care and love to 
us. Tell her " inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these, etc." And 
now adieu. Bless you. I will write your mother to-day, and I think I'll call 
on Dr. Anderson, and see him and his plan for you. UNCLE PHIL. 

Chicago seems now to come into our programme about Thursday or Friday 
of next week ; but sooner, if any of you say so. 

The following letters I received from Mr. Bliss during 1876 ; the 
last of them being written two weeks previous to his death : 


1 hardly know where to direct, but I must write to you. We had a most 
delightful trip from Chicago. The weather was just right, car comfortable, 
children as good as two good kittens, and "all things worked together for 
good." Had a blessed visit over Sunday with my sister, in Wellsville, New 
York, and a union praise meeting of power in Beecher's church there. Arrived 
safely home, May 2d. George seemed a little tired with the journey, but is 
getting rested and happy. I, the undersigned, took a dawful cold id by head, 
cubbing hobe frob that warb dibit. Am getting room, etc., ready to begin' 



work in earnest next week. I wish you were all here with us and could stay 
here all summer. But if the Tabernacle needs you and I don't believe the 
Lord will let you go there unless you are needed then that's the place for you. 
May His presence ever go with us both. Amen. In regard to book, etc., my 
only thought is to write all summer, if the Lord will please to send me some 
good hymns, then His wisdom in regard to publishing. I thank you for your 
interest in me, and hope I shall do nothing to disappoint or grieve you, or 
especially to grieve my Master and yours. I said to Church about what you 
and I agreed upon, nothing definite; but in general a book for our work would 
be wanted next season, and I wanted him to see Moody. 

My wife has been quite sick, wearied and worn though not worried by 
the journey. Picking and packing is hard work. She has lain in bed all day, 
but is well enough to laugh at the newspaper article and your joke on the 
parasols, which, she says, reminds her of the five dollars you owe her since 
we left the Battle House. Yours resting, 

P. P. B. 

ROME, PENNSYLVANIA, May 11, 1876. 

Nothing special, only yours received. All well ; I like hymn of " Hope in 
His Mercy " very much ; shall set it soon and sing it some. Am surprised to 
hear of Moody running off to so many conventions, etc. Have asked him to 
give us a little time on his way East, or I'd come to him. 

We think George is improving. He eats and sleeps Blissfully. Paul has 
all sorts of circuses with pigs, calves, dead chickens, mice, snakes, lizards and 
other " nice pets," much to his mother's consternation. 

I have declined eight invitations (all I've had). Am determined to rest and 
write all summer. Had a good visit with my mother, yesterday, in Towan- 
da. My wife, Lucy Jane, is usually busy buying carpets, curtains, paper, 
furniture, etc. She says I can't stand it and I ain't a-goin' to. I reply, with 
my proverbial complacency, " All right." 

Had a good prayer meeting last evening and read together, Psa. cxix, 1 to 
8, also 97 to 104 and 129 to 136, "Look and be merciful," " Words giveth 
light," " Make thy face to shine." May the Lord give us all light, " more light," 
Father Love used to say. 

LoVe to dear Abbie, May, baby and all ; Charlie may wait. 

Tours when you want me, 

P. P. B. 

ROME, PENNSYLVANIA, June 16, 1876. 

Yours received. We haven't any earthly house yet. Had a pleasant trip 
to Chicago, while there and return. Found the boys and girls all right. 


Think Monroe street more desirable than Adams. I have many letters to 
answer, but in a lot 60x325 would have plenty of room for croquet. 

The weather is quite warm here, and the taxes in Chicago are nearly as 
high as at Lake View ! 

Had a good letter from Brother Sankey, but I wouldn't want to live on a 
cross street or in a south front. Vincent wants you at Chautauqua, the last 
three days. I think I will be thar, if we get our house furnished. I want a 
large dining-room and a bath-room ten feet square. 

Augusta is reported to have paid Moody $1,500 and the papers say he 
deserved it. Would you want a Mansard or a barn to hang your clothes in ? 

I received $100 from Augusta and if you did $200 there, my part is $60, 
please endorse $40 on the you owe me ; and if our house has a study with 
east windows in it, I shall be satisfied. Paul is out with Grandpa, mowing 
the front yard, but I don't believe we'd ever be contented on the South Side ; 
do you? You said "twelve alsos in 8th Romans." I can't find but eleven. 
To-morrow is picnic, but I can't afford time to go. I want a house near the 
street cars. My mother and Mr. Jennings are here ; we are having a family 
gathering. Take your wife to Chicago and Chautauqua. I'd be willing to go 
a little west of Wood street on Monroe or Warren avenue. 

Tend to your part of the horse, and don't be running off to conventions, 
female prayer-meetings, etc. We might make a bedroom of the back parlor. 
Give our love to Charlie. Mail and Way. I'll be glad when we're in it and 
it's paid for. 

" Tell him to keep cool and get rested for next winter," nay wife says. In 
fact, she says so much, I fear I may have mixed up some things she says 
about our Chicago home with my letter to you. 

ROME, PENNSYLVANIA, August 22, 1876. 

Your pome is quite overcoming. My time is too precious and the game too 
insignificant to reply in kind. Am bent on a month of quiet ; so let me alone. 

Just replied to Mrs. M.'s cordial invijtation to visit them in N. " No," to J. 
C., who offered to come to Towanda to see me. " No," to a Canadian camp- 
meeting. No, I have not committed myself to C. or anybody else for anything 
except the Lord and you. 

Nothing about book from Bro. Sankey or Moody. I agree with you about 
book and everything. I guess Moody will let G. H. and S. S. alone as it is. 

Wife is good and I am glad. All things are working together. Have 
planned to leave the boys here with Grandma and Aunt Clara, this winter, so 
wife can go with me. Sent all of our folks (six) to Centennial yesterday for a 
week. Boys are doing finely. 

Where are Charlie and May? Wait, like yourself, deserves spanking. 
Same to your wife. Yours infirm, 

P. P. B. 


TOWAJTDA, Sunday, December 17, 1878. 


We are within ten miles of the boys, arrived here at two o'clock this morn 
ing, four hours late ; so are spending this Lord's Day with my sister, where my 
dear old mother is " waiting." I am glad for a day with her who gave me my 
first music lesson. And she is enjoying us so much. We remember you in our 
morning prayers. Suppose Chicago is all settled. Nevertheless my feeling is 
the same, though my faith, I hope, is stronger. If He says go I'm ready. 

N. B. The Lord is your Shepherd. He will carry you through. Hope 
your wife is better. Dear child ! may the Lord bless her to-day. We hope to 
go to Rome to-morrow. Shall look for a letter from you soon. I hope the 
Lord will lead the meeting at P. Give our regards to the " singers as well aa 
the players upon instruments " who are there. Also to the Grier House, Tyngs, 

Reynolds, "Hams," etc. 

In peace 1 go, 
No fear I know. 
Wish you the same, 




A FITTING close to these memoirs is the contribution here 
made to the memory of Mr. Bliss, by friends who were very 
dear to him, and to whom he was very dear, and with whom he was 
in peculiarly pleasant relations, writing songs of praise to the same 
blessed Eedeemer and Lord, sending out the messages of the Gospel 
on wings of music to the ends of the earth, These friends have kindly 
taken the hymns that were written by Mr. Bliss during his last 
days, and for which he had not prepared music, and their compo 
sitions, with his words, are here for the first time published, by 
consent of John Church & Co., by whom words and music are 

Very kind and loving have been the messages that these brethren 
have sent with their music. "I thank you for the privilege," 
writes dear Mr. Lowry. " Dear Bliss very gladly, very cheer 
fully, anything you want," was the tender reply of Eoot, Palmer, 
and all who were asked to make this contribution to the memory 
of their loved friend and brother. " Anything I can do for dear 
Bliss' orphan boys or for his family, count on me to do it," was the 
immediate reply of Doane ; and so this tribute comes from full, 
loving hearts. No thanks are expected by any, but to all this 
acknowledgment of their kindness is due and is gratefully rendered. 
Surely, those called of God, and honored with such a glorious 
mission, are yoked together in much to call forth mutual praise 
and prayer. 

Another Soldier Fallen. 

In Memory of P. P. Bliss. 

Verses by E. E. REXFORD. 
, lit on Moto. 

Chorus and Music by G. F. ROOT. 

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1. An-oth-er soldier fall- en, In the rank and file of God; A life's grand record 
2. Oh, faithful armor-bearer, How ma-nyeyes are dim, Because you join no 
3. Oh, comrade in God's army,The battle trum-pet ring; The dear old flag you 

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end ed, 
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fought for 

An earth- ly pathway trod; Safe in the home he sung of, Till 
Earth's mighty bat-tie hymn; True heart, loved as a broth- er, Your 
Up - on the winds we fling; The thought of you will strengthen The 



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hardest hearts were stirred, Among the songs eternal His own sweet voice is heard. 
friendly hand we miss, But think with heart exultant, He knows what heaven is. 
weak heart in the fray, And this the word we send you, We'll "hold the fort" to-day ! 

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Oh, no - ble chris-tian sol 

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our mem -'ry shall be dear; 

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For while you sing the New Song there, Your own shall bless us here, 

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Copyright, 1877, y John Church fc Co. 


I Believe. 

"Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief." MARK 9, 24. 

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1. My fears a - rise, And clouds ob - scure my way; 
2. By sin oppressed, To Thy dear cross I flee; 
3. When Death shall come, O, Sav - ior, come with him, 

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With tear - ful eyes And ach - ing heart I pray : 
I smite my breast; Be mer - ci - ful to me; 
And bear me home, Where tears no eyes shall dim. 

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Sav - ior, re - lieve, Thy pres-ence brings re - 
Let me not grieve, Thou canst dis - pel my 
In grace re - ceive The ser - vice here so 

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"Lord. I be - 
"Lord, I be - 
"Lord, I be - 


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lieve ; Help Thou mine un - be - lief.' 7 
lieve; Help Thou mine un - be - lief.'* 
lieve ; Help Thou mine un - be - lief.'' 

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Copyright, 1877, by John Church <fe Co. 



MY Redeemer. 





1. I will sing of my Re-deem-er And His won-'drous love to me; 

2. I will tell the won'drous sto-ry, How my last es-tate to save, 

3. I will praise my dear Re-deem-er, His tri - umph - ant pow'r I'll tell, 

will sing of my Re-deem-er And His heav n - ly love to me; 




: p-h^E] 


* * -^^ 


On the cru - el cross He suf-fered, From the curse to set me free. 

In His boundless love and mer- cy, He the ran - somfree-ly gave. 

How the vie -to - ry He giv- eth O- ver sin, and death, and hell. 

He from death to life hath brought me, Son of God, with Him to be. 

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Sing, oh I sing of my Redeemer, Sing, oh! sing of my Redeemer, 

blood He purchased me, With His blood He purchased me; On the 

d the 

He sealed my par - don, 

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cross H*e sealed my pardcTn, Oh the cross He sealed my pardon, Paid the 

.Repeal P P. after last verse. 

debt, and made me free, And made me free, and made me free. 


Copyright, 1877, by Joh.n Church & Co. 



Within, About, Above. 



T. C. O'KANE. 




1. I looked with-in and ponder'd How cold my heart had been; Is 

2. I looked about and ponder'd, What shipwrecks strew the strand! Is 

3. I looked above and wondered, What glp-ry beaming there ! My 

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id wondered, What glo-ry beaming 

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this the life of faith, I said, Or 
there a God in heav'n a-bove, And 
Sav-ior, precious Savior, too ! My 

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am 1 "dead in sin?" I 
will His kingdom stand? How 
man-sion, oh, how fair ! He 

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see no right or 
sin is growing 
smil - ing says "b< 

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ti - tie, I feel no "heav'nly glow," Is 
tronger, How truth and jus-tice fail, Is 
eady," To join the ransomed throng; I 




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Je - sus Christ my Savior now, How can He save me so ? Is 

Christ a mighty King to come, Does ev-'ry pray'r a,- vail ? Is 

know my King is coming soon, Lord Je - sus, oh, how long ! I 

T-tot-^- =^-~^~ r 1 1 ' '" 

Je - sus Christ my Savior now, How can He save me so ? 
Christ a mighty King to come, Does ev - 'ry pray'r a - vail ? 
know my King is coming soon, Lord Je - sus, oh, how long! 

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Copyright, 1877, by John Church 4 C!o. 


Tell Me more about Jesus. 

p. p. BLISS. 


1. 'Tis known on earth and heav-en too, 'Tis sweet to me be- 

2. Earth's fairest flowr's will droop and die, Dark clouds o'erspread yon 

3. When overwhelmed with un - be - lief,When burdened with a 

4. And when the Glo - ry-land see, And take the place pre 




cause 'tis true; The old, old story is e'er new, Tell me more about Jesus. 

azure sky; Life's dearest joys flit fleetest by, Tell me more about Jesus. 

blinding grief;Come kindly then to my relief, Tell me more about Jesus. 

par'd for me,Thro' endless years my song shall be,Tell me more about Jesus. 

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Tell me more a-bout Je - sus, Tell me more a - bout Je-sus ; 

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Him would I know who loved me so,Tell me more a - bout Je- sus. 

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Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co 


What wilt Thou have Me to Do? 

'Lord, what will Thou haye me to do ?" ACTS 9, 6. 


1. What \vilt Thou have me to do, O Lord, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 

2. What wilt Thou have me to do, O Lord, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 

3. What wilt Thou have me to do, Lord, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 


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Thou hast redeemed me,Thy right I own,Thine are my pow'rs, my Savior, alone. 

Is it to la-bor? I'll glad-ly go; Is it to wait ? then let it be so. 
Sing of Thy mercy who died for me ? Tell the good news, salvation is free ? 


Thou hast for me such great things done, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 
On - ly Thy will I ask to know, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 
Say, shall I work or sing for Thee, What wilt Thou have me to do ? 

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What is the la-bor ap-point- ed me, Where shall I la-bor for Thee? 

What is the la-bor ap-point- ed me, Where shall I la-bor for Thee? 

What is the la-bor ap-point- ed me, Where shall I la-bor for Thee? 

ff.f r* 



Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 


Georgie's Welcome. 

Words by P. P. Bliss, upon the birth of his little boy, George Goodwin Bliss. 

'And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name, receiveth Me." MATT. 18, 5. 


1. Welcome in the dear Lord's name, Welcome as can be; He has said "it 
3. Je - sus is our Shepherd, dear, We in Him believed ; He to us has 




is the same As receiv - ing me." Tar - ry, if it be His will, 
come so near, Him have we re- ceived. Welcome, then, dear Je - sus, Thou, 


Ma-ny a happy year; But if not we glad- ly still Bid thee w el-come 
Who our life didst give, Humbly at Thy feet we bow, And Thy-self re- 

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here. Welcome in the dear Lord's name, Wei - come as can be ; 


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[e has said "it is the same As re - ceiv - ing me." 


Copyright, 1877/by John Church & Co. 


Wise to Win. 


C. C. CASE. 

God of wis-dom hear my cry, Heal this bro-ken heart"; 
To Thy work I glad - ly go, Mas - ter, lead me on; 
Winning wis- dom have I none, All must come from Thee ; 





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Weak and sinful, Lord, am I, Strength divine impart. By 
Of Thy grace the world must know, Trophies must be won. 
Thine the power, and Thine alone All the praise shall be. 

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wa - - ter of Thy word, 

wash me, wash 


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the wa-ter of Thy word, wash mo from 

from all sin ; 




y Thy Ho - - ly Spir - it, 
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from all sin 


By theHo-Iy 


Lord, make me wise, yes, wise to win. 

1 I 
Lr- it, Lord, 

make me wise, yes, make me wise to win. 

Copyright, 1877, by John Church <fe Co. 


p. P. BLISS. 

Only a Little. 



1. 'Mid those who were thronging the altar a-nigh,With gifts for the Lord of 

2. '"Tis only a little," she said to her boy, "But God has to us been so 

3. The pennies, and farthings, and mites as of old, Abound in the church of to- 






light, There came a poor wid- ow, while Je - sus stood by, And 
good. He tells us He hears the young ra- vens that cry, We'll 
day, While shek - els of sil- ver, and tal-ents of gold, Are 

tim - id-ly cast in her mite. 
trust Him to give us our food." 
thrown by the world a - way ; 

"'Tis on - ly a lit - tie," she 
'Twas on - ly a lit - tie, the 
And oft a poor wid - ow, in 








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said with a sigh, And turned from the tern - pie a - way, 
Sav - ior looked on, He saw that in love it was given, 
love and in trust, Hath laid on the al - tar of heav'n, 

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no one can of- fer more gladly than I, The little we have to pay." 

no one can of- 

blessings attended the deed that was done,'Twas great in the record of heav'n. 

mite that outweighs in God's balances just, The talents the wealthy have giv'n. 

Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 



Only a Little. Concluded. 



'Tis on 


lya lit-tle, 

Yes, on - ly a lit-tle, 

But in 

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Only a little, yes, only a little, 

y a little, yes, only a little, But in 

faith and-in love it was giv'n, Though on 

On-ly a lit-tle, yes, on-ly a lit-tle, 

"^-^lii^ 1 * 11 ^* ^ ^ ^ i 

ly a lit - tie, 

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Tis great in the records of heav'n. 

on-ly a lit-tle, yes, on- ly a lit-tle, 

Constrained by Love. 



9 ^-J=^U!-3 

1. Con-strained by love of Christ, I sing, Oh, love unbounded, free ! 

2. My Sav - iorfrometer-nal woe, He gave Himself to be; 

3. My ris - en Lord, a precious name, 1 long have loved it well ; 

4. My heav'nly King, before the throne, I in His name ap-pear ; 

^ <3 

^ v w w r m i w^ ^ ^ ^ i*r 

__is name, my Savior,Lord and King, My song of songs shall be. 
E- ter - ni-ty alone can show The price He paid forma 

But His e-ter-nal love for me Is more than tongue can tell. 

My pray 'rs He hears, my name will own, My song He loves to hear. 


^j 9 V 

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CopyrigUt,1877, bv John Church & Co. 


p. P. BLISS. 

I Trust, Lord, in Thee. 



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1. I do be-lieve that Je-sus died To save a world from woe, Tl 


I asked a lit - tie child, her face With an - gel light a - glow, How 
3. I would see Je - sus, sir, said I, To one in manhood's prime,For 

-9 9- 

I I 

on the cross the cruci-fied His mighty love did show. I do believe Thy 
she obtained for-giving grace, That I her joy might know. A look she gave of 
ref - uge to the rock would fly In the ac-cept - ed time. Tell me, for I would 

! 4i 

-9-9-9^ ^-^^-[a^-^-,-.-. , I J ^ J 

gos - pel true Would come at God's command; But how to come, or what to do i 
sad surprise.That I should, While tear drops filled her wonder eyes, She 
come to-day, Show me the way, acd how; He read the words "I am the way," And 

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* i . u i p--^ 9 i r i- i -s r r__ 



can not un-derstand, But how to come, or what to do I can not un-derstand. 
answered "He loves me," While teardrops filled her wonder eyes she answered"He loves me." 
said "Just trust Him now,"He read the words "I am the way,"And said" Just trust Him now." 

=^ -: 1 


t i 

Dear aged pilgrim, drawing near 
To death .s dark, shadowy vale, 

How dost thou "read thy title clear?" 
Does saving faith avail ? 

He answered as he neared the shore, 
And earth's lights grew more dim ; 
J: Forever and forever-more, 
1 rest it all in Him.: II 

Jesus, Thou Son of God, to Thee 
I breathe this prayer sincere: 
Thine, Thine forever would I be, 

save me now and here. 

It was Thy plan and not my own 
That Thou shouldst die for me; 
j|: Thine is the power, and Thine alone, 

1 trust, O Lord, in Thee.:|| 

Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 


Stand Still, 0, Child of God I 

Ex. xiv, 13, and 14. JOSH, iii, 13. ii CHBON. xx, 17. 

1. Stand still and trust His might, Who bids your trembling cease; 

2. Stand still, tho' Jordan's wave In gath'ring billows roar; 

3. Stand still, and sing, and praise, c The bat - tie is not thine ; 




The Lord for you shall fight, And ye shall hold your peace. 
The Lord will surely save, MarclTon to Canaan's shore. 

Stand still, while God displays His grace and pow'r divine. 



-* *~ 

* + 

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"/^K* -I ^~l ' ~M~ 

Standstill, oh, child of God! What-ev - erill be-tide ; Stand 

t-fc-O *-i &-! 



1 ^ 
still and trust His word, And in His love a - bide, Stand 

still and trust His word, And in His love a- bide. 


Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 


Arise, Work and Pray. 

"The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." JAB. 5, 16. 
"And I will show Thee my faith by my works." JAS. 2, 16. 





1. Somewhere, says a mother, my dar-lingis dwelling, I've watched for my 

2. Somewhere, in his office, a husband is writing, The tri - als of 

3. Somewhere in the wide world, a sis-ter or brother, May now be re- 



I h-~fc 

giaLz ^S 


boy till my eyes have grown dim ; His sins and temp-ta-tions I 
bus - 'ness have wrinkel'd his brow, The spir - it's entrea-ties he 

claimed from the broad downward way ; A soul is indan-ger, child, 




would not be telling, Christ on - ly can save him, oh, pray, pray for him. 
long has been fighting, His wife says, Dear Christian friend, pray for him now. 
fath-er, or moth-er, Oh, slum - ber no long- er, arise, work and pray. 




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9 1 

55 , . _1 


1st and 2d verses. 

Oh, pray for him now, Oh, pray for him now,Christ only can save him, Oh, pray for him now. 
Arise, work and pray, Arise, work and pray, Oh, slumber no longer, Arise,work and pray. 

*.*. AJL*E E-EE- p 4B. - T N i 

Copyright, 1877. by John Church & Co. 


The Good News. 



1. I've heard the good news in the Gos - pel, It makes me so hap-py and free 

2. Some-times when I walk in the dark-ness, My path-way I hard-ly can see, 

3. He tells me that soon I shall see Him, I won-der how long it will be; 

That Je-sus re-mem-bers the chil - dren, 
But trust-ing "Our Fath-er in Heav - en," 
He's gone to pre-pare me a man - sion, 

I know He will care for me. 
1 know He will choose for me. 
I know He will come for me. 




I know He will care for me, for me, I know He will care for me, 
I know He will choose for me, for me, I know He will choose for me, 
I know He will come for me, for me, I know He will come for me, 





Yes, Je-sus remembers the chil - dren, I know He will care for me. 
But trust-ing "Our Fath-er in Heav-en," I know He will choose for me. 
He's gone to pre-pare me a man - sion, I know He will come for me. 

Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 


The Good News. Concluded. 





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will choose for me, 
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Yes, Je - sus re -mem-bers the chil - dren, I know He will care for me. 
But trust-ing "Our Fath-er in Heav - en," I know He will choose for me. 
He's gone to pre-pare me a man - sion, I know He will come for me. 

+ f- .' * + 

When My Weary Hands are Folded. 

'When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they 
shall not overflow thee." ISA. 43, 2. 

Words written by P. P. BLISS for I. D. S. 


fr- ah 

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1. When my wea - ry hands are fold - ed on my faint - ly 

2. But a great - er joy 'twill give me if some toil - ing 

3. When the songs of earth are o - ver, and my last "good 


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throbbing breast, And my soul has 
one can say, I have helped to 
bye" is said, When my life - less 

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spread her pin - ions 
bear his bur- den 
form they fol - low 

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Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. 


When My Weary Hands, etc. Concluded. 




for the cit - y of the blest ; 'Twill be sweet to 
and have cheered him on the way ; Oh ! I'll praise His 
to the dwell-ing of the dead ; 'Twill be sweet if 

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hear the loved ones sing some dear fa - mil - iar song, 
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friends re-mem - ber and shall mark the qui - et spot, 

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As I rise to join the chorus of the blood-washed, holy throng 
And hath chosen me a shar- er in His bless - ed work to be. 
Tell - ing on - ly that the sleeper hath not quicklybeon for- got. 

-*HTfTPf "- S-i fii g 

But if one poor tired wand'rer shall be guided home by me, 
'Twere a grander, nobler monument throughout all eternity ; 
And to Him shall be the glory, unto whom all praise is due> 
For the love that hath redeemed us, and hath made my Heaven two. 


When among the ransomed millions, by His grace redeemed I stand, 
Then my song shall swell the chorus of the glad triumphant band ; 
Oh, how sweet will be the resting, when my conflicts all are past,. 
Oh, the mighty "Alleluia" of our victory at last ! 

Copyright, 1877, by John Church <ft Co. 




railroad train on which Mr. and Mrs. Bliss rode to their 
death left Buffalo, New York, on Friday afternoon, December 
29, 1876. At eight o'clock that evening, while approaching Ashta- 
bula station, and crossing a ravine, the bridge gave way, and the 
train, with its precious freight of human lives, was precipitated to the 
bottom. Fresh as is the memory of this horror in the minds of all, 
the newspaper accounts given at the time will be read now with 
renewed interest, and fittingly form a part of the record made in 
these pages. 

[Dispatch to the Chicago Tribune.] 

ASHTABULA, OHIO, December 30, 1876. 

The proportions of the Ashtabula horror are now approximately known. 
Daylight^ which gave an opportunity to find and enumerate the saved, reveals 
the fact that two out of every three passengers on the fated train are lost. Of 
the 160 passengers whom the maimed conductor reports as having been on 
board, but fifty- nine can be found or accounted for. The remaining 100, 
burned to ashes or shapeless lumps of charred flesh, lie under the ruins of the 
bridge and train. 

The disaster was dramatically complete. No element of horror was want 
ing. First, the crash of the bridge, the agonizing moments of suspense as the 
seven laden cars plunged down their fearful leap to the icy river-bed ; then 
the fire which came to devour all that had been left alive by the crash ; then 
the water, which gurgled up from under the broken ice and offered another 
form of death ; and, finally, the biting blast filled with snow, which froze and 
benumbed those who had escaped water and fire. It was an ideal tragedy. 

The scene of the accident was the valley of the creek which, flowing down 
past the eastern margin of Ashtabula village, passes under the railway three 
or four hundred yards east of the station. Here for many years after the Lake 
Shore road was built there was a long wooden trestle-work, but as the road 
was improved this was superseded about ten years ago with an iron Howe truss, 


built at the Cleveland shops, and resting at either end upon high stone piers, 
flanked by heavy earthen embankments. The iron structure was a single span 
of 159 feet, crossed by a double track seventy feet above the water, which at 
that point is now from three to six feet deep, and covered with eight inches of 
ice. The descent into the valley on either side is precipitous, and, as the hills 
and slopes are piled with heavy drifts of snow, there was no little difficulty in 
reaching the wreck after the disaster became known. 

The disaster occurred shortly before eight o'clock. It was the wildest win- 
ter night of the year. Three hours behind its time, the Pacific Express, which 
had left New York the night before, struggled along through the drifts and 
the blinding storm. The eleven cars were a heavy burden to the two engines, 
and when the leading locomotive broke through the drifts beyond the ravine, 
and rolled on across the bridge, the train was moving at less than ten miles an 
hour. The head lamp threw but a short and dim flash of light-in the front, 
so thick was the air with the driving snow. The train crept across the bridge, 
the leading engine had reached solid ground beyond, and its driver had just 
given it steam, when something in the undergearing of the bridge .snapped. 
For an instant there was a confused crackling of beams and girders, ending 
with a tremendous crash, as the whole train but the leading engine broke 
through the framework, and fell in a heap of crushed and splintered ruins at 
the bottom. Notwithstanding the wind and storm, the crash was heard'by 
people within-doors half a mile away. For a moment there was silence, a 
stunned sensation among the survivors, who in all stages of mutilation lay 
piled among the dying and dead. Then arose the cries of the maimed and 
suffering ; the few who remained unhurt hastened to escape from the shattered 
cars. They crawled out of windows into freezing water waist-deep. Men, 
women and children, with limbs bruised and broken, pinched between timbers 
and transfixed by jagged splinters, begged with their last breath for aid that 
no human power could give. 

Five minutes after the train fell, the fire broke out in the cars piled against 
the abutments at either end. A moment later, flames broke from the smoking- 
car and first coach piled across each other near the middle of the stream. In 
less than ten minutes after the catastrophe, every car in the wreck was on fire, 
and the flames, fed by the dry varnished work and fanned by the icy gale, 
licked up the ruins as though they had been tinder. Destruction was so swift 
that mercy was baflied. Men who, in the bewilderment of the shock, sprang 
out and reached the solid ice, went back after wives and children and found 
them suffocating and roasting in the flames. The neighboring residents, 
startled by the crash, were lighted to the scene by the conflagration, which 
made even their prompt assistance too late. By midnight, the cremation was 
complete. The storm had subsided, but the wind still blew fiercely, and the 
cold was more intense. When morning came, all that remained of the Pacific 
Express was a winrow of car wheels, axles, brake-irons, truck-frames, and 
twisted rails lying in a black pool at the bottom of the gorge. The wood had 
burned completely away, and the ruins were covered with white ashes. Here 
and there a mass of charred, smoldering substance sent up a little cloud of 


sickening vapor, which told that it was human flesh slowly yielding to the 
corrosion of the fire. On the crest of the western abutment, half buried in the 
snow, stood the rescued locomotive, all that remained of the fated train. As 
the bridge fell, its driver had given it a quick head of steam, which tore the 
drawhead from its tender, and the liberated engine shot forward and buried 
itself in the snow. The other locomotive, drawn backward by the falling train, 
tumbled over the pier and fell bottom upward on the express car next behind. 
The engineer, Folsom, escaped with a broken leg ; how, he cannot tell, nor can 
any one else imagine. 

There is no death-list to report. There can be none until the list of the 
missing ones who traveled by the Lake Shore Road on Friday ip made up. 
There are no remains that can ever be identified. The three charred, shape 
less lumps recovered up to noon to-day are beyond all hope of recognition. 
Old or young, male or female, black or white, no man can tell. They are 
alike in the crucible of death. For the rest, there are piles of white ashes in 
which glisten the crumbling particles of calcined bones ; mother places masses 
of black, charred debris, half under water, which may contain fragments of 
bodies, but nothing of human semblance. It is thought that there may be a 
few corpses under the ice, as there were women and children who sprang into 
the water and sank, but none have been thus far recovered. 

[Dispatch to the Cleveland Leader.] 

The haggard dawn, which drove the darkness out of this valley of the 
shadow of death, seldom saw a ghastlier sight than was revealed with the 
coming of this morning. On either side of the ravine frowned the dark and 
bare arches from which the treacherous timbers had fallen, while at their base 
the great heaps of ruins covered the one hundred men, women and children 
who had so suddenly been called to their death. The three charred bodies lay 
where they had been placed in the hurry and confusion of the night. Piles 
of iron lay on the thick ice, or bedded in the shallow water of the stream. 
The fires smouldered in great heaps, where many of the hapless victims had 
been all consumed, while men went about in wild excitement, seeking some 
trace of a lost one among the wounded or dead. 

The list of saved and wounded having been already sent, the sad task 
remains of discovering who may be among the dead. The latter task will be 
the most difficult of all, until the continued absence of here and there a friend 
will allow of but one explanation that he was among those who took this 
fatal leap. 

All the witnesses so far agree to the main facts of the accident. It was 
about 8 o'clock, and the train was moving along at a moderate rate of speed, 
the Ashtabula station being just this side of the ravine. Suddenly, and with 
out warning, the train plunged into the abyss, the forward locomotive alone 
getting across in safety. Almost instantly, the lamps and stoves set fire to the 
cars, and many who were doubtlessly only stunned, and who might otherwise 
have been, saved, fell victims to the fury of the flames. 


On the arrival of the Cleveland train, the surgeon of the road organized his 
corps of assistants, and made a tour of the various hotels, where the wounded 
were attended to, such help being given to each as was possible. The people 
of Ashtabula lent a willing hand, and all that human skill and money could 
do to save life or ease pain was done. The train which came from Cleveland 
for the purpose was immediately backed into position, and long before daylight 
the least wounded were being prepared for transportation to Cleveland, to be 
sent to hospitals or their homes. 

The scenes among the wounded were as suggestive almost as the wreck in 
the valley. The two hotels nearest the station contained a majority of these, 
as they were scattered about on temporary beds on the floors of the dining- 
rooms, parlors and offices. In one place, a man with a broken leg would be 
under the hands of a surgeon, who rapidly and skillfully went at his work. 
In another, a man covered with bruises and spotted over with pieces of plas 
ter, would look as though he had been snowed upon, except when the dark 
lines of blood across his face or limb told a dif^rent story. In some other 
corner, a poor woman moaned from the pain which she could not conceal, 
while over all there brooded that hushed feeling of awe which always accom 
panies calamities of this character. 

Towards morning, the cold increased and the wind blew a fearful gale, 
which, with the snow, that had drifted waist-deep at points along the line, 
made all work extremely difficult. 

At 6 o'clock, the beds in the sleeping-car of the special train were made up, 
and such of the wounded as could be moved were transferred there. 

The story of most painful interest to us to all who will read 
this book, and all who knew and loved P. P. Bliss and his wife is 
that told by Mr. J. E. Burchell, partner of Mr. B. F. Jacobs, of 
Chicago, who was on the ill-fated train. We give his account in 
full : 

There were eleven cars on the train that left Buffalo at two o'clock Friday 
afternoon. There were two engines, three baggage, one smoker, two coaches, 
three sleepers and one parlor car. I should judge there were 250 passengers. 
We pulled out of Buffalo in a blinding snow-storm, an hour late, and ran at 
the rate of about fifteen miles an hour until about an hour, or may be only 
half an hour, before the accident, when she slacked up to about ten miles an 
hour. The second engine was taken on at about Dunkirk. Just before reach 
ing the bridge, the snow was very heavy, and at that station near by, the name 
of which I have forgotten, there was every danger of being snowed in. We 
had lost an hour and a half from Buffalo to the bridge. 

Before reaching the bridge, I went through the train and noticed that the 
coaches and the smoker were filled. The smoker did not come in its regular 
order. There were two passenger coaches ahead of it. Next behind the smoker 
was the parlor car, in which Mr. Bliss and his family were, and I noticed it 


was one-third full. I was in the car behind the parlor, and my car was filled 
Behind that were the three sleepers, which were also nearly filled. 

We neared the bridge at about 7:45, though due at Ashtabula at 5:15. East 
of the bridge the country is rolling, and beyond the creek it grows more level. 
We ran on the structure at a rate of about ten miles an hour, and the whole 
train was on the bridge when it gave way. The bridge is about two hundred feet 
long, and only the first engine had passed over when the crash came, the weight 
of the falling cars nearly pulling back the locomotive that had passed over. 

The first thing I heard was a cracking in the front part of the car, and then 
the same cracking in the rear. Then came another cracking in the front loud 
er than the first, and then came a sickening oscillation and a sudden sinking, 
and I was thrown stunned from my seat. I heard the cracking, and splinter 
ing and smashing around me. The iron work bent and twisted like snakes, 
and everything took horrid shapes. I heard a lady scream in anguish, " Oh ! 
help me ! " Then I heard the cry of fire. Some one broke a window and I 
pushed out the lady who had screamed. I think her name was Mrs. Bingham. 

The train lay in the valley in the water, our car a little on its side, both 
ends broken in. The rest of the train lay in every direction, some on end, 
some on the side, crushed and broken, a terrible but picturesque sight. Below 
were the water and broken ice ; seventy feet above was the broken bridge. 

Mrs. Bingham sank down in the snow and I went back after my coat. 
Securing that, I went to her and carried her, with a dozen stumbles and falls, 
up the* bank. The snow in the valley was nearly to my waist, and I could 
only move with difficulty. The wreck was then on fire. The wind was blow 
ing from the east and whirling blinding masses of snow over the terrible ruin. 

The crackling of the flames, the whistling wind, the screaming of the hurt, 
made a pandemonium of that little valley, and the water of the freezing creek 
was red with blood or black with the flying cinders. I did not then know that 
any lives had been lost. All had escaped alive, though all were bruised or 
injured. The fire stole swiftly along the wreck, and in a few moments the 
cars were all in flames. The ruins covered the whole space between the two 
piers, the cars jammed in or locked together. One engine lay in the creek, 
smashed to pieces, the ruins breathing steam and fire. 

I carried Mrs. Bingham to the only house near by, and which appeared to 
be an engine-house, i was completely exhausted, and remained there forty- 
five minutes, when the injured began to arrive. I think there were fifty-two 
brought in alive, but one or two died after their removal to the town, where 
they were subsequently taken. The town was about a quarter of a mile 

I did not go back to the wreck, but from the engine-house door I could see 
into the ravine, and the fearful scene it presented. The sight was sickening. 
The whole wreck was then on fire, and from out the frozen valley came great 
bursts of flame. There were crowds of men there, but the fire beat them back, 
and they could do nothing. The wounded were lying around in the snow, or 
were laid on stretchers or taken on the backs of men and carried up the bluff. 
The spectacle was frightful, but those who had gone to assist worked steadily 


and well in spite of the intense heat. They carried away all who could be 
rescued, and then waited mournfully for the flames to subside, so that bodies 
might be taken out. As fast as the injured were secured, they were taken to 
the hotel. That was some time before anything could be done, for in thirty 
minutes after the fall it was impossible to get near it for the fire. I think it 
likely that a great many were buried under the cars, and lost in that way. 

The hotel was about a quarter of a mile from the creek, and as the long 
line of stretchers and stout men bore the sufferers along, the stormy air was 
filled with meanings of anguish. At the hotel, the wounded were kindly cared 
for. Physicians and surgeons were early on hand, and every effort was made 
to relieve the sufferers. One lady, whose foot had been crushed, was carried 
shrieking in labor pains to the little hotel, and during the night she gave 
birth to a child. 

From the top of the bluff to the water's edge it is, I should think, from 
seventy to eighty feet, and along that bluff there ranged lines of excited men 
looking down on the burning, helpless agony below. It was a heart-rending 
scene. The mangled, bleeding bodies writhed in the terrible tortures around 
them. Some died with prayer and some with shriekings of woe on their lips. 
Some were caught in the iron and woodwork, and held while the flames crept 
upon them and burned them in the very sight of cool, rippling water. As they 
died, they fixed their bloodshot eyes longingly upon the snow that beat piti 
lessly down, and lay white and beautiful on their smoke-blackened faces. 
The fire crept steadily on through the snow flakes, leaping from one mass of 
ruins to another, licking up the blood as it passed along, and crushing out 
human lives as remorselessly as it curled around the stubborn woodwork. 

When the train fell, Mr. Bliss succeeded in crawling through a window, 
supposing he could pull his wife and children after him. But they were 
jammed fast and every effort of his was unavailing. The car was all jammed 
up, and the lady and her children were caught in the ironwork of the 
seats. Finding that he could not save them, he staid there with them 
and died. 

Most all the passengers who escaped did so by way of the windows. There 
was no egress at the doors, for the stoves were there. One lady was pulled 
from a window, and almost every stitch of clothing stripped from her, and 
when they were taking her out the rescuing party could hear the screams of 
women and children for aid, but could render them no assistance. 

Those who came from the wreck said they could see into the cars and could 
see the charred trunks of those who had been literally burned to death. They 
described them as wholly unrecognizable beyond identification, and present 
ing the most ghastly scene they had ever looked on. Some of the unfortu 
nates were burned literally to ashes, and in some cases only calcined bones 
were left to tell that human beings had ever been there. 

Of the fifty- two taken from the wreck, all were more or less injured, and 
about forty of them dangerously, if not fatally. I don't remember any names. 
I was badly shaken up and bruised, and I think there was only one man who 
was as little hurt as I was. 


There was a fire-engine there, but there was no hose. I think the fire 
lasted about an hour, and by that time all the cars were burned. I don't think 
any one was taken out alive after the fire. I am fearful that all who were not 
saved before the flames got headway perished in the general conflagration. 

I should say there were at the least reckoning one hundred and fifty per 
sons killed outright or burned to death, and this in spite of the fact that some 
of the officers claim that there were only one hundred and sixty -five on the 

I don't know the name of a human being among the killed, except Mr. Bliss 
and his family, and I don't know the names of any of the injured. All along 
the road coming from the scene are anxious men, fearful that friends or rela 
tives were on the train and killed or injured. Perhaps some of them may yet 
hear of deplorable losses, for the railroad officials admit that there were over 
one hundred killed. 

Fortunately, the dear children of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss had been 
left at Rome, and they were safe. The father and mother ( ' went 
before " them into the valley of the shadow of death. 



FROM various sources we select a few of the many good things 
which have been said of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss since the sad event 
of their death. " None knew them but to love them ; none spoke 
but to praise them." 

The editorial columns of the Chicago Inter- Ocean contained the 
following glowing tribute to our friend, written while it was still 
supposed that Mr. Bliss' children were among the lost at Ashtabula : 

P. P. Bliss, the song writer, the author of " Hold the Fort," "The Armor- 
Bearer," " Almost Persuaded," and scores of other popular songs, was on the 
train that went down with a crash to terrible destruction at Ashtabula. He 
was coming from the holiday meeting at his old home, with its tender mem 
ories clinging to him, to hold a grand praise meeting in Chicago, to which he 
was looking forward with all the wholesome enthusiam of his stalwart, Chris 
tian manhood. Moving along a line leading from joyous scene to pleasant 
duty, he was stopped midway to die with wife and children ; to die in an 
attempt to save those he loved from a terrible fate. 

This horror of a railroad disaster has darkened many a home ; in the case 
of Mr. Bliss it destroyed one blotted it out as with a thunder crash. The 
catastrophe has depressed the public, a public already sore to the heart's core 
over the Brooklyn theater disaster ; but in the death of Mr. Bliss it touches 
chords that bring it home as a family grief to every church and Sabbath School 
in America and England. 

Mr. Bliss was the song writer of the church and Sabbath School. He stood 
prominent among those earnest workers who have invested Sabbath School 
music with the cheerfulness, lightness, brightness and briskness that were 
wanting in the old hymns, and who have added to them new pathos and ten 
derness. His works were songs rather than hymns, and they were written 
under the inspiration of the ideal song writer. In words and music his com 
positions were adapted to the longings and wants of those he desired to reach. 
The illustrations were familiar, the methods were striking, the sentiment was 
an echo of the feeling in his own heart. He seized quickly upon incident or 


figure, or story, and turned it to good account. Catching suggestions from the 
actual life of the people, his songs and his musical compositions came to the 
masses as revelations. The relation of an army incident suggested " Hold the 
Fort." It was written on the impulse of the moment, and it has traveled the 
world over. It has been translated into not only nearly all the European lan 
guages, but into Chinese and the native languages of India. It is not too 
much to say that it is popular beyond any other Sabbath School song of the 
age. And with it travel others almost as popular ; " What Will the Harvest 
Be? " " Almost Persuaded," " Only an Armor- Bearer," etc., etc. 

When we remember that every child, from the lisping four- year-old to the 
youth of fifteen or eighteen, is singing in Sabbath School and home, " Only an 
armor-bearer proudly I stand," and that not only in home and Sabbath School, 
but at political meetings, people have been shouting' " Hold the fort, for I am 
coming," then, and not till then, do we realize how near this man, whom we 
of Chicago knew so well, was to the people at large. And when we read these 
songs and hear the simple music, we go further, and realize how much he 
has helped all people, but particularly the young, toward a better life. 

Mr. Bliss was a fine specimen of the vigorous and robust man. He was 
gifted with a sweet voice and an attractive manner. He carried into his 
musical work the martial bearing and movement of the commander in a great 
crusade. This spirit breathes along his lines and swells in . all his music. 
Children caught quickly this heroic spirit. His military figures found the 
nation responsive. He is never, in any composition, at a halt. He is always 
marching forward or struggling upward. There is always the suggestion of 
the leader's plume to the front ; there is always a purpose, a hope, a promise, 
a resolve, at the heart ; there is always present the spirit that moves masses 
to responsive or heroic moods, or that pathos that calls out the best there is in 
man. Hence the popularity of Mr. Bliss' compositions, and, more important, 
the good influence they have exerted. 

As with Mr. Moody, the people of Chicago have watched the course of Mr. 
Bliss with peculiar interest. Those earnest in Christian work observed with 
pleasure his growing toward the conviction that he must enter a wider field. 
They were familiar with the doubts in his own mind, which went down one 
by one under the resolve that he must do his whole duty, and they have 
rejoiced over the good results of his work. And this class of earnest workers, 
numbering in its ranks Mr. Moody and many of the ministers of the city, 
have seen with clearer vision than the masses the spirit and purpose of Mr. 
Bliss. They have known him better and have understood him better than 
have the people at large. But to all he has spoken as a friend ; and standing 
appalled before the Ashtabula horror, many will turn shivering to the picture 
of the song-maker struggling to save his wife and children. And then will 
come that vivid picture of his own : 

On, like a fiend in its towering wrath, 
On, and destruction alone points the path; 
Mercy I O heaven I the sufferers wail 
Feehle humanity, naught can avail. 


So he went down to death. And of this sudden coming of death he has 

I know not the hour when my Lord will come 

To take me away to His own dear home ; 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 
And that will be glory for me. 

People think and speak in formula furnished by this man now dead, and 
many will recall reminiscences of his home life that make very touching this 
picture of his terrible death. One of his intimate friends relates how many 
of his compositions, now famous, first found shape in his own home ; of how, 
with wife and children and a few chosen friends about him, he first sung the 
songs that were to be given to the world. And this friend tells of how the 
singer and his family rejoiced over the perfecting of some work that reflected 
an experience or trial or struggle or rejoicing that they themselves had lived 
through. The man spoke from the heart of his home, and no wonder he 
touched the popular heart. 

In a sermon preached at Minneapolis, Minnesota, on the 6th 
of January, Kev. E. F. Semple, D. D., expressed himself as follows 
respecting Mr. Bliss and his work. Want of space alone prevents 
our publishing the sermon in full : 

There are many stricken households, widely scattered, greatly mourning 
the disaster at Ashtabula bridge. Some of our number lost near kindred on 
that dreadful night : the joy of the marriage succeeded by the wail of death. 
And there was one widely known and greatly beloved. Hence, thousands in 
this and in other lands, as the electric wire flashed the sad intelligence of his 
decease, cried in the bitterness of their grief, " Alas 1 my brother." 

Wherever the sweet " Gospel Songs" were sung, and especially where the 
voice of him who wrote them had been heard, there is sorrow such as has sel 
dom been surpassed. With feelings of peculiar sadness, relieved only by the 
light from beyond, we who linger a little behind now sing, 

Down life's dark vale we wander, 
Till Jesus comes. 

And hereafter, as we join in the familiar song, there will come to us thoughts 
of a night dark and stormy ; and as we look through the blinding tempest we 
shall see a noble form moving calmly on, and a manly face turned heavenward, 
and shall hear a voice of marvelous compass and sweetness singing, in trustful 
strains, mingling with, and rising above, the meanings of the wintry winds 

Though the pathway be lonely and dangerous, too, 
Surely Jesus is able to carry us through ; 

and then as the weary, blistered feet touch the heavenly shore, we catch the 
triumphant refrain 


Hallelujah ! 'tis done ! I believe on the Son, 
I am saved by the blood of the Crucified One. 

You all know to whom I refer. I have scarcely felt that I could trust my 
self to speak his name. I had come to know him intimately, and to love him 
tenderly, and to confide in him implicitly. The brother beloved who had la 
bored with him in Gospel services, and was competent to form a judgment of 
his character, said of him, " He is the purest minded man I ever knew." There 
certainly have been few so loving, unselfish and kind. He was singularly art 
less. He wore no disguise. In presence dignified and commanding as Saul 
among the children of Israel, he was in spirit simple, and unostentatious, and 
confiding as a child. His songs were like himself. They were the utterances 
of his own great heart. They claimed no relation, and had none, to the meas 
ured and lofty poetry of the Homeric hymns. They were sweet lyrics rather. 
The most intellectual were moved by them. The unlearned understood them. 
They were fragrant with the love of Jesus, and I doubt not led many to Him. 
Already they are sung in every land. Though born within the last decade, they 
have overtaken the sacred hymns of Watts, and Newton, and Toplady ; and 
some of them will live as long. It was well said of such songs as " Hold the 
Fort," " Almost Persuaded," " When Jesus Comes," and " We're Going Home 
To-morrow," that, " As the years roll on, like the handsful of seed dropped in 
the furrow, they shall yield increasing harvests, till from all lands and kin 
dreds and tongues there shall come up a mighty throng to cast their crowns 
at the feet of that dear Lord whose dying love it was our brother's highest 
joy to magnify." And we fully accord with the judgment of another, that 
" Evangelical song lost its greatest exponent when Philip P. Bliss staid by 
the car in Ashtabula Creek," and burned to death in the fruitless attempt 
to save his wife an act characteristic of his affectionate and self-forgetful 

This dear brother has sown seeds in the hearts of many whom I now ad 
dress, which I fervently hope shall yet bring forth immortal fruitage in their 
salvation. How tenderly did he speak to the young, of Christ, the children's 
friend, and urge them to come to Him. How earnestly did he pray that they 
might know Jesus, and rejoice in His light. The memory of those November 
days will abide with us down to the winter of life, and we shall always be 
thankful that our dear brethren in Christ, Whittle and Bliss, came this way ; 
loving evangelists, who pointed us to the wicket gate of Mercy, and bade us 
hasten to it. 

* * * * * * * * 

I recall a sweet and solemn service, when our dear brother and his equally 
lovely wife sang together a hymn which was prophetic of their end may it 
be of our peaceful departure : 

Through the valley of the shadow I must go, 

Where the cold waves of Jordan roll ; 
But the promise of my Shepherd will, I know, 

Be the rod and staff of my soul. 


Even now down the valley as I glide, 

I can hear my Savior say, " Follow me ; " 
And with him I'm not afraid to cross the tide, 

There's a light in the valley for me. 

Now the rolling of the billows I can hear, 
As they beat on the turf-bound shore, 

But the beacon light of love so bright and clear 
Guides my bark frail and lone safely o'er. 

I shall find down the valley no alarms, 
For my blessed Savior's smile I can see, 

He will bear me in His loving, mighty arms- 
There' s a light in the valley for me. 

Dear brother and sister, sweet singers in Israel, farewell ! There is a strange 
stillness in the air since you went ; a strange sorrow in our hearts. But it is 
well ; for God hath done it. Perchance the day on which you left us was a 
festal day in heaven, and your voices were needed in the song of the redeemed. 
Farewell ; yet not forever. On some glad day, not afar off, we shall hope to 
meet you yonder : 

Saved through the blood of the Crucified One. 

From Eev. G. C. Waterman we have the following words of 
loring praise : 

Philip Bliss was my friend. I loved him as a brother, and have good rea 
son to believe that the love was returned in full measure. My acquaintance 
with him began a few years before he went to Chicago, and up to that time 
was intimate, so that a friendship struck its roots into our hearts which has 
lived and grown through ten years of separation. In those days he was engaged 
in teaching singing schools, holding musical conventions and occasionally giv 
ing concerts with Mr. John G. Towner, who was his first teacher in music. 
He was a frequent guest at my house, coming sometimes alone, sometimes with 
Mr. Towner, and sometimes bringing his wife with him, but always welcome. 
His personal appearance and bearing were such as to attract and win respect 
and friendship wherever he went. Nature had lavished upon him a profusion 
of charms. Not Saul or David was more eminent among his fellows for fine 
physique and manly beauty. Homer would have put him high among his 
heroes and described him with his choicest epithets. He was at once dignified 
and genial ; a subtle and peculiar grace, which never degenerated into softness 
or sickly sentimentality, invested all that he did or said. Behind this there 
lay, not quite concealed, no small amount of power. These qualities, in com 
bination with the instructive faculties which he possessed in a high degree, 
fitted him in an admirable manner for the work of teaching in his chosen pro 
fession. There was running through his temperament a rich vein of genial 
humor, bubbling forth in all sorts of unlooked-for ways, in odd conceits and 
quaint terms of expression, in rhymes and jingles, which made him a most 
delightful companion and correspondent. In it all there was never a drop of 


scalding sarcasm, biting acidity or turbid foulness; it was always pure, 
sweet and healthful as the waters from the mountain spring. 

After a few years of this pleasant intercourse, our paths diverged from the 
quiet valley in which they had 'crossed and recrossed so often, his to lead into 
the heart of the life of the West, mine to wind along in other humble re 
treats ; but from time to time golden threads were thrown across the interven 
ing space, slender but strong, holding together loving hearts in two circles. 
When at length the great sorrow of my life came upon me and death quenched 
the central light of my household, he poured out the wealth of his loving 
heart in words of tender sympathy, bidding me " lean hard on the great Bur 
den-bearer," and helped me with a brother's strong sympathy. I have not 
seen him since he entered upon his active evangelistic work with Major 
Whittle, but have followed him with deep interest, and rejoiced in all that 
God hath wrought through them. Soon after he begun this work, two years 
ago this very day, January 13th, he wrote me thus : " Do I enjoy this Gospel 
song singing ? What a queer question for a musical minister to ask ! There 
never was anything like it. Certainly the Master blesses us greatly, even 
now ; with greater experience and greater faith we are expecting the increase 
of blessing. * * * Still there's more to follow ; " to this he subscribed 
himself, " Gospel Songfully Yours." 

In the Peoria (Illinois) Transcript, we find the following, from 
Rev. A. R. Thompson, Pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church 
in that city : 

O, thou sweet singer ! hast thou passed away 
While yet thy voice is lingering on our ear ? 

Must hearts so full of joy but yesterday 
Give place to sorrow and the bitter tear ? 

Is thy sweet life of love and song no more ? 

Thy noble manhood scarcely reaching prime ; 
Yet in its richness fertile with a store 

Of sacred melody and heavenly rhyme. 

No more, sweet singer! Oh these words "no more" 
Thy voice shall thrill and soften every breast; 

Thy anthems sung, thy mission now is o'er, 
And thou hast gone to thy celestial rest. 

Tender and loving, song was but thy prayer 

An inspiration strain from realms above 
And in angelic music thou didst bear 

The soul's petition to a God of love. 


Thy noble wife ! of self the counterpart, 

Whose voice and being blended with thine own : 

In counsel, love, encouraging thy heart, 
Till she, so loving, in thy nature shone. 

Bright spirits both ! your work on earth is done, 
Your memory in sweet song shall ever live 

Your life of faith and love ere now has won 
A crown of Him whose joy it is to give. 

R. W. Morgan, editor of The Christian, published in London, 
England, discourses, in a letter to his journal, as follows, respecting 
the work of Mr. Bliss : 

" And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamenta 
tion over him." Something of this kind has been repeated here. The lamen 
tation is over two of the sweetest singers in Israel Mr. and Mrs. P. P. Bliss 
without even the mournful satisfaction of carrying them to their burial. I 
scarcely know how to write the sorrowful tidings which I have to send to-day. 
I had gone to Canada for Christmas week, and returned on Saturday night 
(Dec. 30) to meet these friends in Jesus, and make some final arrangements as 
to their coming to England with Major Whittle in the spring. Though I had 
heard on the way of a frightful railway accident at Ashtabula, in Ohio, it did 
not occur to me that they would be traveling by that very train the Pacific 
Express. But on arriving at Chicago I was appalled to hear that they had 
perished on the previous night. 

I have already written of my sojourn at Peoria, where I spent a few days 
with them. Mr. Bliss was a saint indeed, and his wife a true helpmate to him. 
" A prince and a great man is fallen in Israel," and of him and his sweet 
wife it may well be added, " They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and 
in their death they were not divided." 

On Saturday night, Major Whittle, Mr. Farwell, Mr. Jacobs and others 
went to the scene of the accident, to endeavor to recover the remains, but a 
telegram to Mr. Moody says that most of the bodies recovered are quite unrec 
ognizable ; and there seems no likelihood of anything being found of this 
beloved brother and sister whom Chicago mourns, and thousands all over the 
land and through the world are mourning, and will mourn more deeply, as the 
hymns he wrote, and which they sang together, are more fully understood. 
Their bodies have probably been burned to ashes, but they are themselves 
transfigured, and to us the hymns are transfigured also. We have been saying 
one to another that, read in the light of this fiery translation, they seem all 
changed to prophecies. How differently shall we now sing 

I know not the hour when my Lord shall come, 
To take me away to His own dear home, 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 
And that will he glory for me. 


I know not the form of my mansion fair, 
I know not the name that I then shall bear ; 
But I know that my Savior will welcome me there, 
And that will be heaven for me. 

After the Chicago fire he wrote and dedicated to Mr. Moody the words and 
music " Roll on, O "billow of fire ! " the chorus of which must have come back 
with even more vividness in the fire in which he perished than when written 
in recollection of the fire from which he had escaped. 

How much more tenderly shall we now sing that childlike carol which was 
the one that took the earliest hold of us at home 

I am so glad that onr Father in heaven 
Tells of His love in the Book He has given. 
Wonderful things in the Bible I see ; 
This is the dearest that Jesus loves me. 

It melts one's heart to think how, in the agony of that last hour, the hus 
band and wife needed to cling, as to an anchor within the vail, to the assur 
ance that, even in this terrible ordeal, "Jesus loves me." 

After a visit to a beautiful cemetery in Peoria, Illinois, and with his 
thoughts specially drawn toward the "blessed hope, and the glorious appear 
ing of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ," he wrote 

Down life's dark vale we wander, 
Till Jesus comes, 

and although the death of the individual is not the coming of the Lord to 
receive His bride to Himself, yet what a sublime fulfillment did those simple 
lines receive on that dreadful night ! 

He'll know what griefs oppressed me, 

When Jesus comes. 
Oh, how His arms will rest me, 

When Jesus comes. 

And now that he is gone how inspiriting will be the war-song, as we think 
how, trusting in the living God, he held the fort in death ! 

Ho, my comrades, see the signal 

Waving in the sky ; 
Reinforcements now appearing. 

Victory is nigh. 
Hold the fort, for I am coming ! " 

Jesus signals still, 
Wave the answer back to heaven 
41 By thy grace we will." 

A story was told yesterday of a missionary in South Africa going into a 
kraal to rest, and the first sounds he heard were from a Zulu singing this tune. 
So these stirring strains go round the world. 


As we remember how our noble brother stood, and how he fell, shall we 
not mean something more than ever before in singing ? 

Dare to be a Daniel ! 

Dare to stand alone ! 
Dare to have a purpose firm ! 

Dare to make it known ! 

To us here, it seems as if his patient and truthful voice was singing out of 
the darkness and terror of that wintry storm 

Brightly beams our Father's mercy, 

From His lighthouse evermore ; 
But to us He gives the keeping 

Of the lights along the shore ; 

and that he appeals, with outstretched hands, on behalf of others 

Let the lower lights be burning, 

Send the gleam across the wave ; 
Some poor fainting, struggling seaman 

You may rescue, you may save. 

For he met his end not far from the very spot (Cleveland harbor) where the 
catastrophe occurred, which, related by Mr. Moody, was the occasion of his 

Trim your feeble lamp, my brother, 

Some poor seaman, tempest-tost. 
Trying now to make the harbor, 

In the darkness may be lost. 

He was a man full of sympathy, and the wisdom of the truest Christian 
sympathy shows itself in the hymn in which he counsels the burdened one, 

Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right. 

Gently and lovingly he leads the mourner on : 

Go gather the sunshine He sheds on thy way, 
He'll lighten thy burden go, weary one, pray. 

And there is a moral grandeur in the self-sacrifice and generosity which he 
commends, and which were indeed but the reflection of his own inner life : 

Go bury thy sorrow, let others be blest ; 

Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest. 

In the same vein of advancing experience is the familiar hymn which was 
suggested by Mr. Moody's address on Assurance 

I wished He was mine, 

And then began hoping that Jesus was mine. 

I'm hoping no longer, I know He is mine. 



At the Industrial Exposition at Chicago it was an every-day appointment 
"Meet me at the Fountain." Our sweet singer, his mind always set on the 
things above, caught up the words, and wrote 

\ Will you meet me at the fountain, 

When I reach the glory -land ? 
Will you meet me at the fountain ? 

Shall I clasp your friendly hand ? 
Other friends will give me welcome, 

Other loving voices cheer, 
There'll be music at the fountain ? 

Will you, will you, meet me there T 

I spent but a few days in his society, but the impression he has left upon 
nay heart is well expressed in the question and the assurance 

Will you meet me at the fountain ? 

I shall long to have yon near. 
When I meet my loving Savior, 

When His welcome words I hear. 

And so I might go on, for " Still there's more to follow." 

Oh, the grace the Father shows ; 
Oh, the love that Jesus shows ; 
Oh, the power the Spirit shows ! 

This was his experience, and although the flow of his sweet melodies is 
tayed on earth, before the throne drinking of the water of life which pro 
ceeds from the throne of God and the Lamb he will praise on through the 
long day of his eternal life ; and the refrain of the unfinished song through 
the ages to come will be 

Still there's more to follow. 

Perhaps it, is well that the stream of song has been diverted to the heavenly 
land. We might hare gone on asking for some new thing, thinking more of 
the songs than of the salvation of which they speak, and forgetting the Giver 
in the gift. Therefore the only wise God our Savior has transfigured those we 
have, and shown us depths of sacred tenderness, and love, and courage that we 
had only dimly seen before ; and, thus enriching the songs we possess, He has 
caught up the singer to His throne and heart, while we are left to urge them 
that are 

Almost persuaded now to believe, 

Almost persuaded Christ to receive, 

to yield, and say 

Fully persuaded, Jesus is mine : 
Fully persuaded. Lord, I am thine. 

And as one by one saved souls confess the Savior's name, our departed friend 
will remember that he said, and by the grace of God fulfilled his pledge 


Surely my Captain may depend on me, 
Though but an armor-bearer I may be. 

Now he is gone, and his memory is very fragrant. We may write his epi 
taph in the words of Dr. Bonar's hymn, which Mr. Bliss had set to music, and 
the second verse of which is peculiarly suitable and true of his most unselfish 

So, in the harvest, if others may gather 

Sheaves from the fields that in spring I have sown; 
Who plowed or sowed matters not to the reaper : 
I'm only remembered by what I have done. 

And no doubt can remain on any heart that there has been a full and blessed 
answer to the aspiration, which he had set to sweetest strains 

And when, with my glorified vision, at last 

The walls of " that city " I see, 
Will any one then at the Beautiful Gate 

Be waiting and watching for me ? 

" And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me Write, Blessed are the 
dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
may rest from their labors ; and their works do follow them." Rev. xiv, 13. 

George C. Needham, the evangelist, wrote to a friend, soon after 
Mr. Bliss' death : 

A great and sore trouble has fallen upon us. Messrs. Moody, Sankey, 
Whittle, Stebbins and others of us who were identified in work with our 
departed friend can only weep and mourn to-day, though sorrowing not as 
those who have no hope. 

During the past three years, Mr. Bliss had been identified with Major Whit 
tle in Gospel labors, and both men were the bosom friends of Messrs. Moody 
and Sankey. In personal appearance he was a fine specimen of a vigorous 
man. Large, well-proportioned, noble in presence he never failed to produce 
an impression on the passer-by. Possessing princely manners, and imbued 
with a true spirit of the Christian gentleman, a man of rare worth and grace 
and spiritual attainments has passed from us. 

Since the hope of our Lord's coming dawned upon the heart of our brother, 
he loved to speak of that prospective day. The last time I talked with him, he 
said he would interweave that truth into his new hymns, and so teach the peo 
ple to look and wait for the Son from heaven. Many of his pieces are full of 
the gladness and the joyousness of that hope. 

A year ago, during Mr. Bliss' life, Philip Phillips, the singer, 
wrote : 

Mr. P. P. Bliss combines the rare gifts of writing and singing Sacred Song, 
and like Chicago, his home, has come into public favor rapidly, and while 



young. He is an excellent Christian man, a member of the Presbyterian 
Church, and about thirty-two years of age. This present year he has resigned 
his position as chorister of a large church in Chicago, and cast in his lot as 
singer with D. W. Whittle, as a lay evangelist. They are at the present time 
laboring in the Southern States of America. Mr. Bliss has brought out the 
"Charm" and "Sunshine" of Sacred Song, and goes about literally as an 
ensample of his book. He is author of " Almost Persuaded," " Hold the Fort," 
" When Jesus comes," "I am so Glad that Jesus Loves Me," ' Dare to be a 
Paniel," " Only an Armor-Bearer," " What shall the Harvest be ?" etc. 

The following poem, by Rev. Arthur T. Pierson, D. D., of 
Detroit, comes to us with the explanatory words of the author : " I 
read at an immense mass meeting held here in the Opera House, 
Sunday afternoon, the following impromptu verses, in memory of 
P. P. Bliss. A harp draped and adorned with floral decorations was 
placed on the platform ; and knowing that this was to be, I framed 
these verses after my morning service. If you publish them, please 
let italics go in, as I have interwoven strains from Bliss' favorite 
songs, and the italics indicate them. The haste in which they were 
written will explain their crude shape, as I could not destroy their 
impromptu character by attempt at revision. 

The harp of Zion's psalmist now is still, 

Ten thousand eyes, in bitter grief, have wept, 
Because the hand that, with a master's skill, 

These silver chords so long, so sweetly swept, 
Is turned to ashes in the fatal flames I 

Because no more that voice Redemption sings 
And sounds the Name above all other names, 

With whose high praises even heaven rings. 

The harp is still ! the harper is not here ! 

No more shall that anointed silver tongue 
Arouse the dull and inattentive ear, 

And teach us how the gospel may be sung ; 
How poet's harp and heart, alike devote, 

Both words and melodies may consecrate, 
Till Jesus' call may sound on every note, 

And win the wanderer to the narrow gate ! 

The earthly harp is still, but up on high, 

Where everlasting anthems ceaseless roll, 
A golden harp, resounding in the sky, 

Thrills with the triumph of a ransomed soul. 


There, 'mid the host of the celestial choir, 

His sorrow buried, and his heart at rest, 
He has " more holiness" his soul's desire 

Safe in the arms of Jesus on, His breast I 

Weep not for him, who now doth fully know 

The depth of mercy and the grace divine, 
The blood that washed and made him white as snow, 

And sings with rapture " Yes, I know He's mine," 
He leadeth him, He guides him icith His eye ; 

Light of the world, He brightly beams on him ; 
And, brethren, we shall meet him by and by 

When not a tear the ransomed eye shall dim. 

Catch up and echo ye his trumpet tone : 

Let whosoever heareth shout the sound ; 
We'll tell of Him who saves and saves alone, 

Till sinners shall receive the world around ; . 

Shall shout 'tis done, Ltoo.believe the Son 

Till prodigals come home and kiss His feet, 
Till hearts emptied of self, by grace are won, 

Nothing but vessels, for His use made meet. 

He'd bid us, could he speak, from mansions fair, 

Rescue the perishing not mourn the dead, 
Bid burdened souls dismiss their load of care, 

And know that Jesus loves them for them bled. 
He seems to shout, from over Jordan's wave, 

Hold ye the fort ! by help of grace divine, 
Let lower lights be burning, you may save 

Some struggling sailor if your light doth shine. 

We will not weep ! when Jesus comes, we'll fly, 

Our weary souls shall rest ; we're going home. 
He gave his life for us, why should we sigh ? 

For soon our weary feet no more shall roam. 
We're coming to the cross, anew to be 

With Jesus crucified that so, ere long, 
We may the saints and our dear Jesus see, 

And join, with harps in hand, in that new song. 

Harper's Weekly published an excellent portrait of Mr. Bliss, 
jiccompanied by the following references to him : 

Among the victims of the dreadful railroad calamity at Ashtabula were the 
evangelist Philip P. Bliss and his wife. Mr. Bliss was the author of the 

310 MEMOIR Otf P. P. BLISS. 

well-known hymn, " Hold the Fort." He was on his way to take part in the 
Gospel meetings at Chicago, where he was highly esteemed. Probably no 
modern hymn has been more widely sung in England and America than the 
one just named. According to the statements of those who were in a position 
to know, Mr. Bliss made a heroic effort to save his wife when he might have 
saved himself, and, failing in this, remained and died with her, the two offer 
ing their prayers together as the fatal flames approached them, like the old 
martyrs at the stake ; and thus, united in life, they were not divided in death. 
Those who remain pursuing the work in which he was engaged have already 
provided the means for educating his children, two young boys, and bringing 
them up in the way their father walked, and for erecting an appropriate monu 
ment to the memory of this faithful pair. The death of Mr. Bliss has elicited 
throughout the country many expressions of sorrow. He was but thirty-eight 
years old at the time of his decease, and had only in the later years of his life 
become a proficient in music. Ten years ago, he entered the music store of 
Messrs. Root & Cady in Chicago, and remained there until the great fire of 
1871. Since then he has been an active evangelist, and with Major Whittle 
has made long tours through the country. Some of his best-known pieces are, 
" Hold the Fort," " Pull for the Shore," " Jesus loves even Me." His songs 
have done much to popularize the religious movement of our day, which has 
so visibly affected the masses of the population in England, Scotland, Ireland, 
and the United States. 

Simeon Gilbert writes to The Advance as follows : 

The telegraphic announcement that Mr. and Mrs. P. P. Bliss were on board 
the fatal train which plunged into the gulf with that broken bridge at Ashta- 
bula, Ohio, and perished with the rest, sent a pang of sorrow throughout the 
country. All who perished in that most appalling disaster left friends to 
mourn their loss and cherish their memory ; but in the case of Mr. Bliss, whoso 
hymns and tunes had made him a favorite in thousands of churches and with 
millions of Sunday School scholars, his mourners, on both sides of the Atlantic, 
are innumerable. 

The life of Mr. Bliss was a voice the voice of one singing, with a wonder 
ful persuasiveness, of the " good tidings of great joy for all people." He 
wrote his own hymns, composed his own tunes, and sung them,too. During 
the past three or four years, his Gospel hymns and tunes, popularized partly 
by himself, and still more by his dear friend, Mr. Sankey, have been used 
oftener and by larger numbers than those of any other cotemporary composer. 
Being dead, he yet speaketh, and the circumstances of his death will give a 
peculiar sacredness to the songs and tunes which he has left us. No doubt 
some of them will, having met a special want in the development of the Chris 
tian life of the period, and served their temporary, but not on that account 
unimportant, use, pass away; but some of them, we are confident, will take 
their place among those which the church will not let die. Those who shall 
hereafter pause to trace the distinctive qualities, the timbre, so to speak, of 


the Christian life of this time, will note that what Charles Wesley was to 
John Wesley, Mr. Bliss has been to Mr. Moody. 

The best of Mr. Bliss' hymns and tunes are simple and lucid utterances of 
the heart of the Gospel and of the Christian experience of those who put com 
plete trust in Christ as a perfect Savior. Not keyed to the same pitch as 
Luther's famous battle-hymn, " A strong tower is our God," he yet gauged 
the popular temper and want of the churches equally well. The present mor 
particularly aggressive form of evangelistic work owes as much to what Mr. 
Bliss and his singing co-laborers have contributed as to any other human 

In George Herbert's " Country Parson," the parson preaching is told that 
he must first "dip in his own heart" his words before he speaks them. Mr. 
Bliss had experienced his own songs before he composed them. It is not 
clai-med that he was a great poet, or that he possessed the genius for some of 
the sublimer strains of music, but he had the sense and the tact which are not 
often equaled in matching words and tunes, and suiting both to the popular 

Mr. Bliss was only thirty-eight years old. He was born in Rome, Pennsyl 
vania. His parents were very poor, and his early advantages were extremely 
limited. To the last, his admirable wife was to a singular degree his greatest 
helper. One of his first instructors in music was Mr. Root. Coming to Chi 
cago some ten years ago, be was employed in the music establishment of 
Root & Cady. The great fire of 1871 dissolved that connection, and he has 
been wont to say that the fire was the making of him, setting him at liberty 
to devote himself to the special kind of work to which he felt himself called 
of God. His first church connection was the Methodist, but coming to Chi 
cago he united with the First Congregational Church, Dr. Goodwin's, and was 
for a number of years both its chorister and Sunday School Superintendent. 

One of the sweetest of the hymns and tunes composed by him is the 
one entitled, " When Jesus Conies." Among those most in use, and which 
have been most evidently blessed in the using are the " Hallelujah, 'tis Done! '' 
" Calling now for Thee ; " " Whosoever Will ; " " That will be Heaven for Me ; " 
" Hold the Fort ; " " Once for All ; " " We're going Home To-morrow ;" the one 
so dear to the little ones, " Jesus Loves even Me ; " " More to Follow ; " " Where 
Hast thou Gleaned To-day ;" "The Light of the World is Jesus;" "Let the 
Lower Lights be Burning ; " " Pull for the Shore," and " My Prayer." 

Last Sunday, in some schools, and we presume in many, the hymns used 
were exclusively those which Mr. Bliss has left us. The one beginning, " Free 
from the law, oh, happy condition," Mr. Moody thinks will live always. 

Of late, as is well known, he has been the constant associate in evangelistic 
work of Major D. W. Whittle. No one can possibly feel his loss more deeply 
than our friend Major Whittle. They had seemed as necessary to each othei 
as Moody and Sankey. At the time when he met his death he was on his way 
to Chicago to join Major Whittle in carrying forward the work in this city 
begun by Messrs. Moody and Sankey. The first report was that Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss, with their two little children, were all caught up in an undivided group 


to their heavenly home. It was since ascertained, however, that the children 
had been left with their grandmother in Rome, Pa. 

Rev. W. W. Patton, who knew Mr. Bliss long and intimately, 
thus speaks of his life and labors : 

Among the many victims of the Ashtabula calamity, none will be more 
widely and deeply mourned than Mr. P. P. Bliss, who perished with his wife, 
their remains being entirely consumed by the flames. He was the author of 
the most popular of the pieces sung in the Moody and Sankey meetings in this 
country and abroad, such as " Hallelujah/tis Done ;" " What shall the Harvest 
Be?" "Whosoever Will;" "More to Follow;" " That will be Heaven for 
Me ; " " My Prayer ; " " Almost Persuaded ; " " How Much Owest Thou ? " and 
many others, both the words and music of which were composed by him. He 
also wrote the music to many others of the favorite hymns which are sung in 
those meetings. In addition to this, he was an uncommonly effective singer, 
having a rich baritone voice, well cultivated and full of expression. 

Mr. Bliss was born in the wilds of Northern Pennsylvania, and was of quite 
humble extraction. He had but few advantages in early life. He married, 
young, a lady of his own social position, who had much strength of character, 
who through life was his unfailing good genius. " I owe everything to 
my wife," he once remarked to a friend. Mr. Bliss for a time was in the 
employment of the publishing firm of Root & Cady, Chicago, and held 
musical conventions at leading points through the Northwest. His early 
religious connections were with the Methodists ; but, on going to Chicago, 
he united with the First Congregational Church, under the pastoral care of 
Rev. Dr. Goodwin, and became the leader of the choir and the Superinten 
dent of the Sunday School, during a period of several years. Such was the 
kindness of his heart, the warmth of his piety, and the personal interest 
which he took in the members of the choir and school, that he won the affec 
tion as well as the regard of the whole church which now mourns him with a 
special sense of bereavement. 

When Major Whittle, induced by the example and urgent entreaty of Mr. 
Moody and other Christian friends, surrendered his business and gave himself 
to the work of a lay evangelist, Mr. Bliss decided to become his fellow-laborer, 
and to "sing the Gospel," while Mr. Whittle preached it. And this he has 
done for the three past years with great success, visiting not only numerous 
places in the Western States, but also Louisville, Nashville, Atlanta, Memphis 
and other points at the South. Being tall and well-developed in his physical 
frame, with clustering black hair and a handsome face, and possessing easy and 
polished manners and a very joyous temperament, together with a wealth of 
sympathy, he impressed most favorably those who saw and heard him, whether 
in public or in private. His singing, like that of Mr. Sankey's, often led sin 
ners to Christ, by its touching presentations of Gospel truth. He was not 
much of a poet, in the high sense, but he had a poetic susceptibility of feeling 
and an unusual skill in versifying evangelic doctrine in the very phrases of 


Scripture, as also in adapting the music to the sentiment so as powerfully 
to impress the hearer. What multitudes have been thrilled by his lines : 

Hallelujah, 'tis done ! 
I believe on the Son ; 
I am saved hy the blood of the Crucified One ! 

At the time of his death, he was announced to lead, at Dr. Goodwin's 
church, a " praise meeting" of the Sunday School, on the afternoon of the last 
Sunday of the year, and also to sing, at a later hour, in the afternoon services 
of the Tabernacle. It had been arranged that, after the departure of Moody 
and Sankey for Boston, Whittle apd Bliss should take their places, and carry 
on the glorious work. But, so far as Mr. Bliss was concerned, this was not to 
be. He had long enough " held the fort," and was to be relieved from further 
earthly service. The last piece which he sang at the First Congregational 
Church, before he went East to spend the holidays with family relatives, began 
with the lines of his own composition : 

I know not the hour when my Lord will come 
To take me away to His own dear home ; 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 
And that will be glory for me I 

In the Cumberland Presbyterian "Mrs. E. C. D." pays poetical 
tribute to " The Sweet Singer." 

He came to " sing for Jesus," his armor shining bright : 
We knew that we could trust him ; the Savior was his light. 
The weary wanderer, seeking peace, he guided to the throne, 
And the rich music of his voice was used for God alone. 

The willing servant of the Lord is lost to mortal sight ; 
To him, or us, no warning came ; God's will it must be right. 
We shiver in our anguish, and the world's warm throbbing heart 
Hath felt the stroke of the angel wing that bore the cruel dart. 

We trust that in that bitter hour the struggle soon was o'er ; 
Perhaps he did not know 'twas death till on the other shore, 
Where with the darling of his heart so safely by his side, 
He only wondered and rejoiced that they together died. 

The pearly gate was open, they saw "the mansion fair,** 
And found the Savior " waiting, watching " for them there ; 
Waiting to bid them welcome home, to clasp them by the hand, 
And give them quiet, peaceful rest in the brighter, better land. 


The reason why the summons came, our Father knoweth well ; 
We only know we miss him here ; the rest we cannot tell. 
But let us to the mercy seat bring all this grief and sorrow, 
And wait to hear him sing again when we "go home to-morrow." 

A gentleman in St. Paul, who took a deep interest in the meet 
ings of Whittle and Bliss, which were held in St. Paul about a yeai 
ago, contributes the following : 

The sad death of Mr. Bliss, the evangelist, the preacher of Christ's Gospel 
by song, has come to this city with peculiar force, and burdened many hearts 
here with the most genuine sorrow. It is, therefore, most fitting that some pen 
should strive to put into words that which so many hearts feel, and though any 
written tribute must fall short of adequate expression, still all who knew and 
loved Mr. Bliss will be thankful that the attempt was made. 

We cannot in St. Paul speak of him as we knew him long ago ; in other 
communities he grew up, and in other places had his most intimate associa 
tions. But he was nevertheless our fellow-citizen, our friend, our brother. lu 
an emphatic and peculiar sense he had no continuing city ; no West, no East, 
no North, no South could claim him. Wherever souls needed the divine bless 
ing and comfort of the Gospel ; wherever there were those whose sensibilities 
could be touched by the sweetest of music, the glad evangel of salvation by 
Christ there was Bliss' home for the hour, the day, the week, the month. 
He counted all men for brethren, and his heartfelt desire was that all, like he, 
should turn their faces to the heavenly Jerusalem and, accepting the Savior, 
whose love he so sweetly sung, be ready at any moment for the summons 
which should call them to be its inhabitant. 

Those more intimately associated in arranging the details of the work which 
Messrs. Whittle and Bliss engaged in in St. Paul will call to mind the circum- 
_6tances under which we first became acquainted with our brother Bliss. It will 
be remembered how earnestly it was desired by the committee in charge that 
Whittle should not fail to bring him with him ; how circumstances prevented 
this ; how something in the services was missing till he came, and how all 
realized, after his coming, that Whittle had seemed shorn of a portion of his 
power till Bliss was present to preach by song the same Gospel he so earnestly 
spoke to the people. 

All will recollect, too, the magnificent presence God had bestowed upon the 
man. It was attractive and impressive, drawing attention at once to the sing 
er, and aiding the effect which his song had upon all who heard it. 

How sweet and tender was his voice, like the spirit of the words which he 
wrote and of the music which he composed. How strong were his notes like 
the splendid physique of the singer like the deep feelings that were in his 
heart for the souls of those who listened. 

Those brought into more familiar contact with Mr. Bliss will gladly join in 
ascribing to him a nature similar to his voice, both sweet and strong. It was, 


many think, in the incidental and less public services that his character shone 
out most clearly and appeared to the best advantage. 

He has, ere this, greeted those in Heaven whose weary hours he cheered 
while in St. Paul by singing and praying beside their beds. JSo invitation to 
a service of this sort was ever declined ; nay, more, he seemed glad of these 
quiet opportunities to cheer and comfort, and convert, no doubt, in many in 
stances, his fellow-travelers. 

At the County Jail ; at ihe County Hospital ; at the State Reform School he 
held little singing services, always striving to appear at his best and give those 
who heard him at these places the very sweetest of his efforts. 

His modesty about his musical attainments was always apparent, but at no 
time more so than when in the praise-meeting, which he held while here, 
though the Opera House was filled by the hope of hearing him sing often, he 
did not give a single solo piece during the whole two hours of service. 

It is needless that mention be made of his hymns and their music, both 
words and tunes having been written by him in many instances. In services 
almost innumerable, on this quiet Sabbath, they are being sung to the praise 
and glory of the God whom he served, and so is his highest ambition satisfied. 
So shall he live on earth, as well as in heaven ; so " being dead, he yet speak- 
eth " in sweetest words. 

One characteristic of these hymns in the light of his sad death cannot fail 
of notice. Take them up to select those appropriate to sing at a memorial ser 
vice of him, and how fit are they. How often he sang 

I know not the hour when my God will come 
To take me away to his own dear home ; 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 
And that will be glory for me. 

Truly the call came suddenly, and the gloom was very heavy on that awful 
night, but he died realizing what he sang while living. 
His last hymn in St. Paul contained this verse : 

For those who sleep, 
And those who weep, 

Above the portals narrow, 
The mansions rise 
Beyond the skies, 

We're going home to-morrow. 

So it was to him and his wife but "going home." They were one by all 
the sacred ties of earth one in holy purpose of blessing their fellow-men 
one in the sad circumstance of death. God will take care of their children, 
1'or He never breaks His promises. So, dear brother, to-day in singing your 
hynins, we bid you farewell in our hearts till we shall meet " over there," and 
once more hear your voice still praising the Lord whose Gospel you so faith 
fully preached to us here in song. 


At the session of the Plymouth (Ohio) Musical Convention, 
under the direction of Prof. H. S. Perkins, of Chicago, the follow 
ing resolutions were passed : 

WHEREAS, The dispensation of Providence, in the sad, heart-rending ca 
lamity at Ashtabula, Ohio, on the evening of December 29, 1876, in which 
occurred the death of Mr. and Mrs. P. P. Bliss, of Chicago, while in the zenith 
of their usefulness ; and 

WHEREAS, Fully recognizing them as worthy, valuable members of 
society and of the musical profession ; also desiring to condole with the rela 
tives of the deceased in this time of their great affliction, therefore, by the 
Huron County Musical Convention now in session at Plymouth, Ohio, be it 

Resolved, That we have been greatly pained by the very sad aiid untimely 
death of Mr. and Mrs. P. P. Bliss, of Chicago, for whom we entertained the 
greatest respect and friendship. 

Resolved, That our most heartfelt sympathies and condolence be extended 
to the widowed mother, sisters, and other relatives in this hour of their great 
sorrow and affliction ; and that a copy of these resolutions be presented to the 
Chicago papers for publication, and a copy be transmitted to the surviving 
members of the family. 

[Signed by Committee.] H. S. Perkins, Chicago; the Rev. J. H. Gray 
Attica, Ohio ; A. L. Simmons, Steuben, Ohio ; H. H. Johnson, Havana, Ohio 

Thomas Parkison, Mansfield, Ohio. 


Rev. J. B. Atchinson, of Detroit, after many warm expressions 
of his sympathy with the brother left here, writes of Mrs. Bliss as 
follows : 

There is no man, living or dead, that ever exerted such a powerful influence 
over me for good as did Brother Bliss. My acquaintance with him for the past 
few years has greatly changed and directed my religious work,and, now that 
he is gone I feel his influence still. There were many sad tears in our home 
where he and his wife had a hearty welcome when the news of his death 
reached us. Only a short time before he died, I received a letter from him 
which is so characteristic of his piety, friendship, cheerfulness, wit and pleas 
antry, and in all such a striking coincidence, when considered in relation to 
his death, that I can but hope it may find a place in your forthcoming work. 
The following is a true copy : 

PEORIA, ILLINOIS, December 1, 1876. 

Finally AT LAST IN CONCLUSION Here's your " Open Window," Sorrow-full am I 
that I hadn't one before. 'Scuse me. 

Meetings good wish you the same. Wife is with me. Hope to go home Xmas. 




And it proved to be his " Finally at last in conclusion " to me. How 
iiterally were his hopes fulfilled, that he should go home Christmas, and what 
a proof is his signature of his very close relation to you and at the same time 
so characteristic of his pleasantries and cheerful spirit. 

Dear Bliss ! I almost hear thy bugle voice singing 

O crown of rejoicing. 

O wonderful song, 
O joy everlasting, 

O glorified throng, 
O beautiful home, 
My home can it be, 
O glory reserved for me. 

God bless you, my dear Whittle. My feeble prayers shall aid you all 

they can. 

Yours in glad sorrow, 


At a conference, held January. 2, 1877 of the pastors of several 
Evangelical churches of Louisville, Kentucky, representing the 
Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal and Lutheran churches, 
the distressing intelligence was communicated of the death of Mr. 
and Mrs. P. P. Bliss in the dreadful railway disaster at Ashtabula. 
Ohio. Whereupon Rev. Stuart Robinson presented the following 
memorial minute, which was unanimously adopted : 

In view of the peculiar and interesting relations of Christian friendship 
between Mr. and Mrs. Bliss and our people, growing out of the labors of 
Messrs. Whittle and Bliss as evangelists, so remarkably blessed of God, among 
us, we deem it eminently appropriate that some formal public expression be 
given of our profound sorrow and our tender sympathy in the grief of the 
kindred and friends of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss under this most mysterious Provi 

We desire to bear an affectionate testimony to the signally elevated Chris 
tian character of these servants of Christ, so earnest and faithful, yet withal 
so modest and unassuming, and so wise in winning souls. We recall with 
gratitude to God the marvelous gifts and culture of the sweet Gospel singer 
whose strains were blessed of God as the means of comforting and edifying 
God's people, of encouraging desponding souls, of determining the halting, of 
directing the inquiring, and of awakening the souls slumbering in sin. 

We can only mingle our tears in silence with those of the bereaved who, 
" with groanings that cannot be uttered," mourn that death should have come 
to their loved ones in a form so awful and distressing. " We are dumb. We 
open not our mouth because Thou didst it." Yet fully assured that this dread 
ful affliction that was for a moment " wrought out for them an exceeding and 


eternal weight of glory," we bless God, and we exhort these bereaved friends 
to bless God for His marvelous loving kindness in preparing them by His grace 
for so signally useful and blessed, though so brief, a career on earth, and for 
receiving the welcome plaudit, " Well done, good and faithful servants ; enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

It is the sweet assurance of God's word, that not only " Blessed are the dead 
that die in the Lord," but also that " their works do follow them." Tens of 
thousands in the church on earth will continue to be blest through the works 
of Mr. Bliss. They will sing the Gospel songs with ever grateful remem 
brance of him who put into their mouths these new and beautiful strains, long 
after he himself, called by his Lord to " come up higher," shall be singing in 
strains ineffably more beautiful and glorious in the church above, with the one 
hundred and forty-four thousand and with "the harpers harping upon their 

harps," the new song before them. 


Chairman of Com. 
J. M. MOTUIIS, Sec'y. 

On the day following the memorial services in Chicago, the 
Tribune said, in its editorial columns : 

The intense interest and deep feeling manifest at the various services held 
yesterday testify to the affection and esteem in which P. P. Bliss and wife were 
held in Chicago, and to the sorrow and grief of this community at their sad 
fate. At the meetings led by Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey, at the Chicago Ave 
nue Church and the Tabernacle, tearful tributes were paid by the co-workers 
of the gifted evangelist so suddenly removed from his chosen sphere of use 
fulness, and at Racine, Wisconsin, where Messrs. Whittle and Bliss had suc 
cessfully carried forward the work of revival, memorial services were also held 
yesterday. It will be a comfort to many sorrowing hearts to learn, through the 
dispatch sent last evening to the Tribune by Major Whittle /rom Ashtabula, 
that the two sons of Mr. Bliss, who were reported as having shared the fate 
of their parents, are safe at Rome, Pennsylvania, not having been on the 
doomed train. 

Henry Moorhouse, the evangelist, writes as follows : 

My first acquaintance with dear Mr. Bliss was some seven years ago, when, 
accompanied by Mr. Moody and Mr. Herbert Taylor, I called upon him at his 
room, and was charmed by his sweet simplicity of manner and earnest love 
for the Lord Jesus Christ. At that time his hymns, which were very sweet, 
did not contain the same earnest, simple Gospel truths which afterward made 
them so solemn and so powerful in winning souls to the Lord Jesus. Year by 
year, as I again and again visited America, I saw him growing rapidly in the 
blessed truths of the Bible, and was greatly blessed and charmed by his com 
pany and conversation. During dear Mr. Sankey's visit to England, how won- 


derfully the Lord used those sweet hymns eternity alone can tell, as thousands 
of dear Christians have been cheered as we have sung together " I Know not 
the Hour my Lord will Come," and " Down Life's dark Vale we Wander till 
Jesus Comes," and other kindred hymns. 

With all my heart and soul I sympathize with the dear hereaved mother 
and little children, and I joy and rejoice with dear Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, who now 
are safe within the vail and who to-day are with their blessed Lord who loved 
them and gave Himself for them. 

Wirt Arland, an old school friend of Mr. Bliss, said of "Hold 
the Fort : " 

The hest known of his pieces originated in a vivid description by Major 
Whittle of the signaling from Kenesaw Mountain " over the heads of the rebel 
host." It has gone round the world and comes back in the Chinese tongue. 
It has been issued as a holiday gift book in elegant form by William F. Gill 
& Co., with appropriate pictures by Miss L. B. Humphrey and Robert Lewis, 
and finely engraved by John Andrew & Son. When we last saw him he had 
been to visit, with Major Whittle, the spot from which the message was sig 
naled to the Commander fifteen miles distant " Hold the Fort ! " Picking up 
a bundle, he showed us three hickory sticks that he had cut on the mountain 
and said : "You see we still hold the fort. These are some canes that I am 
going to have mounted for my boys and myself. My boys are darling little 
fellows, and I have been feeling quite sad to-day, since I left them with their 
grandfather at Rome and have got to leave them behind as I go to Chicago." 

At a later date, Mr. Arland wrote : 

The winters are drifting like flakes of snow, 
And the summers like buds between, 

since we trudged that long snowy winter, twenty-one years ago, to the same 
school. The ripe fruit of his manhood was but the generous fulfillment of the 
early promise of a stalwart and genial boyhood, and that deep hearty voice that 
was loudest on the play-ground or in the songs of the noontide recess, but 
needed development to form that which fell with a powerful charm on hearts 
yearning for the peace that passeth all understanding. We met him for the 
-last time at Elmira in October, and we felt that our friend had not changed, 

only ripened, and his fervent " God bless you, A " as the Erie train drew 

up to bear him to Chicago, was the blessing of one we knew in the days when 
the principles of life are tried. His love of music was a prominent trait in his 
character, and many an evening have we sat and listened to his violin, wonder 
ing how he who then knew only how to play by ear could play to touch our 
feelings so wonderfully. He could not read music at this time. His rich, pow 
erful bass voice was an unfailing help in the school music, and across all these 
years we can hear it as he sang : 


Shed not a tear o'er your friend's early bier, 

When 1 am gone, I am gone 
Pause when the slow tolling bell you shall hear, 

When I am gone, I am gone. 
Think as you etand by my half opened grave ; 
Think who has died His beloved to save ; 
Think of the crown all the ransomed shall have 
When I am gone, I am gone. 

Eev. D. W. Morgan, of Griggsville, Illinois, relates the following 
incident relative to Mrs. Bliss, which may be of interest to our 
readers : 

I think it was during the summer of 1868, shortly after Mr. Bliss had 
begun to turn his attention to writing for our Sunday Schools, that I was in 
conversation with Mr. George F. Root concerning him. We recalled several 
of his recent pieces, and I remarked upon his wonderful versatility of talent 
as a hymn writer, song writer and singer. 

Mr. Root replied, with emphasis, " Yes, I consider Mr. Bliss as incompara 
bly the rising musical man of our day. He is destined to more than fill the 
place made vacant by the death of Mr. Bradbury." 

In Mr. Bliss' generous and enthusiastic acknowledgment of indebtedness 
to his noble wife for early encouragement in his musical tastes, he would 
speak of her selling the two cows which were part of her marriage patrimony 
to enable him to pursue his musical studies at Geneseo, New York. And that 
she was moved by a pure, wifely ambition to study and work in the same 
direction with him, that she might be his peer, or at least his constant sym 
pathizer and support in musical endeavor, of this all are persuaded who have 
listened to her rich, trained voice in solo or accompanying the stronger voice 
of him on whom she leaned. But the following incident will illustrate the 
keen insight which thorough training and close observation had given her in 
voice culture that which pertains to the use and abuse of the vocal organs. 
It was, perhaps, in November, 1869, when I was pastor of the Baptist Church 
in Gardner, Illinois. I had worked up a musical convention of two weeks for 
Mr. Bliss, who, with his wife, was conducting a similar convention in Peoria. 
I wrote them, as they were on the eve of coming to us, saying that I should 
await their coming and see them safely ensconced in our home, and see the 
convention started, but that I did not expect to sing a note nor preach a ser 
mon for three months ; that I was under the doctor's ban, my throat granulated 
and bleeding and stubbornly resisting all' treatment. My church had voted, 
me leave of absence for the winter, made generous provision for my support, 
and advised me to spend the winter in the South. 

Mr. and Mrs. Bliss came, and the first evening, as we were seated about 
the fire, Mrs. Bliss said : " Mr. Morgan, I don't think you need to go South for 
the recovery of your throat, nor even to give up preaching or singing. I think 
I can tell what is the difficulty with your throat, and can point out its remedy. 
Tis brought on by a vicious elocution. You are using an assumed tone of 


voice, and are probably unconsciously imitating some one's voice that you have 
admired. The orotund is not your natural voice. By its use you have brought 
an undue stress on the larynx and vocal chords, and they have yielded to 
over tension. Your remedy is to adopt, arbitrarily, a more tenor key of voice. 
Raise it at least two tones in conversation, reading and preaching." I thanked 
her, but replied that I thought her remedy altogether impracticable ; that I 
could not take up at once another tone of voice. But she insisted that it 
could be done ; that they would be with us for two weeks, would watch me 
closely and help to enforce the cure. I tried it, sang in most sessions of the 
convention, and preached the next Sabbath. My throat toughened and I have 
never from that day lost a religious or other service from diseased throat. 
The hint may be worth the attention of other public speakers and singers. 

Mr. Morgan adds : "I have long been accustomed to think of 
Mr. Bliss and speak of him as my ideal Christian gentleman the 
most perfect specimen I had ever met." 



THE village of Home, Pennsylvania, contains a population of 
about three hundred, and is located in the Wysocken Valley, 
surrounded by high hills, and is about ten miles from Towanda, 
Pennsylvania. The funeral services in memory of Mr. and Mrs. 
Bliss were held on Sunday, January 7, in the Presbyterian Church, 
of which both of them had been members during their residence in 
Rome. Before the hour of service (11 o'clock), sleighs, from all 
directions, coming over the hills loaded with the families of friends 
and relatives from a distance, were arriving at the church. By 
eleven o'clock it was crowded in every part. The folio wing relatives 
of the deceased were present: Lydia Bliss, his mother; Mrs. M. 
E. Wilson and husband, and Mrs. Phebe Jennings and husband, 
sisters and brothers ; Wm. H. Jennings, of Chicago, nephew of Mr. 
Bliss ; Mrs. Andrus, sister of Lydia Bliss, with her son and daugh 
ter, the latter residing in Elmira, N. Y ; the wife of Mr. McEwen, 
who was present ; Mrs. Betsy Allen, grandmother of Mrs. Bliss ; 
0. F. Young and wife, father and mother of Mrs. Bliss ; A. P. 
Young and wife, 0. W. Young and wife, George R. Young, Mrs. 
C. C. Barnes and husband, Mrs. J. L. Ellsworth, and Melita Young, 
brothers and sisters of Mrs. Bliss ; Nathan and Thomas Young, 
Mrs. Daniel Pitcher, and Mrs. Dnnham, uncles and aunts of Mrs. 
Bliss, with their families ; also several cousins and more distant 
relatives were present. A remarkable fact in connection with this 
large circle is that they are all Christians. 

The services were opened by the reading of the hymn : " God is 
the refuge of His saints," by Rev. Mr. Keatley, pastor of the Meth 
odist church. Mr. and Mrs. McGranahan, life-long friends of Mr. 
and Mrs. Bliss, and well known in musical circles, led the singing 
of the congregation. 


The following scriptures were read by the pastor of the Baptist 
Church : John xvii, 18-24 : Acts i, 7-11 : Acts vii, 55-60 : 1 Cor. 
xv, 12-23 and 50-58 : 1 Thess. iv, 13-18. 

Prayer was then offered by Rev. G. W. Chandler, pastor of the 
Methodist Church of Towanda. 

The hymn, " Rock of Ages " (set to music composed by Mrs. 
Bliss), was sung by the choir. 

A report of a meeting held in Chicago, on the Sunday after the 
news of the disaster, was then read by Major Whittle, who made 
the following remarks, explaining the circumstances of the depart 
ure of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss from home and of his being on the ill- 
fated train : 


We have to-day no remains of these beloved friends ; none will ever be 
found ; and I am asked to make a brief statement of the circumstances of their 
death. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss left their home the 30th of December and went to 
Towanda and Waverly. The last heard of them was a letter to the father on 
Thursday that they had bought tickets by way of the Lake Shore road, and 
expected to be in Chicago Friday night. The letter closed with the sentence, 
" God bless you all for time and eternity "probably the last letter he ever 

Mr. Bliss was expected in Chicago to help carry on the work of Messrs. 
Moody and Sankey. Saturday morning in Chicago, when I read of the terrible 
accident at Ashtabula, my heart was filled with fear, and 1 sent a telegram to 
Towanda to know whether they were there. It was some time before an 
answer could come. His friends supposed he was -twelve or eighteen hours 
in advance of this train. During the day, while waiting, we went to the rail 
road office and tried to get dispatches from the train, but could only learn that 
it was a terrible accident, and that Mr. Bliss was not on the later train that 
left on Saturday afternoon. My alarm increased, but I could not take it home 
to my heart. But Saturday afternoon, a telegram was received from Mr Bur- 
chell, who knew Mr. Bliss intimately, saying that " Bliss, wife and children 
are among the dead." And we started i mmediately for A shtabula. We arrived 
there on Sunday morning, and for three days I was there while the wreck was 
removed, and every search was made that could be to find some relic of these 
dear friends. The few bodies recovered were unrecognizable except in two 
or three instances. We thought then that the dear little children were there. 
And when the dispatch came from Towanda that the children were safe at 
home, I fell on my knees and than Red God that the children had been spared. 

I came away Tuesday night. Everything had been removed. A stream of 
water five feet deep in the deepest and two feet in the shallowest part flowed 
by. The bottom was dragged. Eleven cars had fallen, one on top of another. 
The cars were broken in fragments. The lamps set fire to the oil. It was a 
fierce wind and a terribly stormy night. The woodwork, -everything waa 


burned, the iron melted and not a fragment of anything was left that \ve 
could find. 

And so we are left here to-day with nothing of these friends but the thought 
of them in glory. 

Mr. Burchell says he passed through the passenger coaches, and that at 
the last station before the accident " the snow was heavy and I got out," he 
says, "to get some sandwiches, and found the two ordinary cars crowded and 
the smoking-car full. The next, a parlor car, was one third full. Mr. Bliss 
and family were there. I was in the next car. Behind that were three sleep 
ing-cars." He gave the statement : " 1 believe Mr. Bliss got out through a 
window, expecting to get his wife and children through, but the car was 
blocked up and escape was impossible. I believe Bliss was burned to death 
trying to save his wife and children." This, he says, is his conjecture. 

There is a story at Ash tabula of Mr. Bliss escaping and going back, saying 
his wife and child were in the wreck, and he would rather die with them than 
escape without them. I cannot find that this is true. That man had a wife 
and child there, and we know that Mr. Bliss had no child there. I suppose 
that some one seeing the man thought it was Mr. Bliss, and that gave rise to 
the supposition that the children were on board. We showed Mr. Bliss' pic 
ture to the passengers who were saved. We found one lady who recognized it. 

As to how he came to be on the train : He left Waverly on the train which 
ought to have been at Buffalo at midnight on Thursday ; but it met with an 
accident twenty miles from Waverly, was delayed, and did not arrive in Buffalo 
until five o'clock too late to make connection. He left that train at Hornells- 
ville, probably thinking that as they could not connect, they would wait over 
and get a night's rest. I find his name at the Osborne House, Thursday night. 
He took the train in Buffalo Friday noon, and so was brought to Ashtubula to 
be in the accident. His trunk went on safely. 

This is all we know of the story. We are here, a circle of friends and rela 
tives, and I tell you the story as we know it. 

A favorite hymn of Mr. Bliss " I know not the hour when 
my Lord will come," was then very beautifully sung by the choir. 
Mr. McGranahan, the composer of the music of this hymn, the 
words of which were written by Mr. Bliss, was so overcome as to be 
unable to conclude the singing. 

An address was then given by the pastor of the First Congrega 
tional Church in Chicago, of which Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were mem 
bers at the time of their death, Eev. E. P. Goodwin, D. D. For 
nearly three years Mr. Bliss had been chorister and Sunday School 
Superintendent at the church of which Mr. Goodwin is pastor. 
The following is Dr. Goodwin's address : 

My friends, I feel that I have come here as a kind of representative of that 
great family that to-day all through the land bows under the grief that has 


gathered us, and mingles its tears and prayers with those of this dear circle. In 
deed, I seem almost to be a member of this household, so personal to me is this 
affliction. This dear brother had been for years one with whom I had wrought 
for the Master in most delightful, accord. Our aims were one, our sympathies 
in unison, our friendship hearty, and one of these precious children bears, as 
you may know, my name. I come hence not to speak in any formal way, but 
out of the depths of my heart to utter a few words of loving tribute to one 
whose character and work I delight to honor. 

Let me connect what I have to say with two passages of Scripture, viz., 
Psalm cxvi, 15 : " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." 
Rev. xiv, 13: "And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, 
Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth ; yea, saith the 
Spirit, that they may rest from their labors ; and their works do follow them." 

Dear friends, God makes no mistakes. He has made none hi allowing the 
calamity which has gathered us here in sorrow, let us make none in reasoning 
about it. The significance of God's Providences does not lie in what we think 
but in what God says about them. In his testimony we can alone find sure 
anchorage for faith, sure solace for bereavement. Our reasonings, apart from 
His Word, instead of scattering the darkness, often deepen it ; instead of lilt 
ing our burdens from our hearts, often magnify them and torture us with 
keener sense of helplessness. We can as easily reason the darkness out of a 
room, as the darkness out of God's dealings. We get rid of the gloom when we 
stop debate, open the shutters, and let the light shine in. And we get rid of 
the gloom that enwraps us in these trial times of faith, when we stop arguing 
and ih row open the windows of our souls to the light of God's Word. 

The first thought, therefore, which I suggest in connection with this Provi 
dence is, that God's children are not to look upon death with dread, but to 
anticipate it with lightness of heart, and, by whatsoever form it may come, 
welcome and rejoice in it. If the death of God's saints is precious in His sight, 
and the day in which it comes better than the day of birth, surely His children 
need not be dismayed ; much less need they go through life, as many do, 
oppressed and tortured by gloomy apprehensions of the last hour. Where 
God's face beams, our faces ought to brighten. Where God pronounces His 
benediction, and all the blessed of the Upper Presence join in special jubilee, 
we may at least dismiss our fears, and even though it be through tears, lift up 
our song. 

I remember well when I could not say this. Death was the one depressing, 
despairful word of all Scripture. No sound ever sent such chills through my 
blood as the mournful knell that was wont to be rung out from the village 
church whenever, there was a death in the community. A funeral was of all 
places the place of terror. The somber crape fluttering so forbiddingly at 
the door, the closed blinds, the hushed voices, the grave faces, the robes of the 
mourners, the tears and sobs, the sepulchral utterances of the minister, the 
mournful hymns all this went to make a burial service distasteful and gloomy 
in the extreme. From a child I never attended one, even of a relative, if it 
could be avoided. This feeling was dominant for years. Indeed, I was 


well on in the ministry, before the true teachings of Scripture were so appre 
hended as to break the hold of the pagan ideas which had begotten such dis 
may. But, thank God, the light of the Word as it is in these texts, and every 
where through these inspired utterances, came at last, and I saw death as a foe 
vanquished through Christ, its terrors all abolished, and the child of God priv 
ileged to go through life anticipating it as the hour of his grandest triumph, his 
highest exultation. Look now at the testimony of the Word. Even the Old 
Testament emphasizes this thought. The old patriarchs had no dread of dying. 
There is something beautiful even in the composure with which they heard 
the voice, and laid aside their tent-life for the better country. How significant 
the record that they " fell asleep," " were gathered to their fathers," " entered 
into rest." What more touching and home-like, and free from everything like 
fear, than the picture of a father, conscious that his last hour is close at hand, 
calling his children about his bed-side, declaring the fact of his near departure, 
giving them his dying counsels and benediction, and then quietly wrapping 
his mantle about him and lying down for the death angel to close his eyes. 
Take the death of Moses. First he was closeted with God ! Then God rolled 
away the cloud from the mountain top, touched his eyes, and gave him a vis 
ion of that fair land, in all its length and breadth, which he had so coveted to 
enter. When He took him, as it were, in His arms, as a mother would take a 
child, and as the vision of the land of promise faded away, there came instead 
the vision of that other country, even the heavenly, of which the earthly in 
heritance was but the feeble type ; and as its surpassing beauty burst upon his 
eoul, he passed into the presence of the King and was clothed upon with a 
transfiguring glory. Who of us that would have drawn back dismayed from 
that dying hour, had it been permitted us to be there ? Who that would have 
thought there was need of crape, or sable plumes, or melancholy dirges to 
befit that burial V 

But Moses is no exception. Precious in the sight of the f jord is the death 
of every saint. And God putting underneath the everlasting arms, giving now 
our last earthward look over all that is loveliest and best, and then swinging 
the gates and giving us to stand within the city and join the everlasting song, 
what is this to all God's chosen but death stripped of its terrors, and the 
valley of the shadow transformed into the shining highway by which the chil 
dren of the Kingdom enter into glory. By the witness of manifold Christian 
experiences there is blessed reality in this. How many times have we stood 
by the dying and seen the light of heaven break over the pale face, and all the 
lines of pain and trouble seem to be smoothed out as God has spoken to His 
chosen. And how many times have we seen the thin lips part while the coun 
tenance shone, and caught some feebly whispered word, jubilant testimony 
that death was robbed of its sting and the grave of its victory. 

And this is the spirit of the Gospel. It knows nothing of dread, nothing 
of depression or dismay as connected with the dying of God's people. On the 
contrary every witness respecting it is of unqualified cheer. It is " falling 
asleep," "entering into rest," "going home," being "present with the Lord." 
It is hence that which is to be coveted, and to secure which is inestimable 


gain. Instead, therefore, friends, of going up and down in the world with 
despondency in our faces and wailings on our tongues because death .confronts 
us and we cannot escape, let us know a more excellent way. Let us no longer 
borrow the eyes of pagan mythology and see death as a hideous demon roam 
ing the earth for victims with an insatiate fury. Let us see him rather through 
the sweeter unveiling of the Gospel, a blessed angel of light come to set us 
free from burdens, toil, vexation, pain, everything that annoys, and to give us 
welcome into the ineffable and abiding blessedness of our Father's house. 

It does not matter, as respects this sunny forelock, in what way death may 
come. We are wont to emphasize the terribleness of a catastrophe like this ; 
and viewed in its physical aspects it is terrible beyond all comprehension. 
But this text-truth holds good, nevertheless. Can you imagine anything more 
torturing than the death that Stephen died ; to be set up as a target for paving 
stones, and to have bone after bone broken and life fairly battered out ? It makes 
one shudder to conceive of it. There must have been the keenest pain ; but 
do you imagine Stephen's thoughts were absorbed in that ? Ah, no. As the 
cries of rage rang in his ears, and the cruel missiles rained down upon him, 
there opened to him in the sky a vision of glory that made him forget every 
thing else. He saw the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing on the 
right hand of God ; and gazing upon that face, the face of his risen and glori 
fied Lord, he no more heeded the crashing stones, no more the clamoring out 
cries, but with a prayer of forgiveness on his lips " fell asleep " as sweetly as 
a child. 

Our brother's anticipations of death were all of this unclouded, hopeful 
kind. You find no word of gloom in his hymns, but when he touches the 
thought of death he almost invariably breaks out into a strain of peculiar ex 
ultation. Take that beautiful song. " That will be Heaven for Me," sung in 
the opening services. It reads like a prophecy, and it exactly represents its 
author's feeling. 

" I know not the hour when my Lord will come 
To take me away to His own dear home ; 
But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, 
And that will be glory for me." 

Or take that other still more prophetic song, ' ' There's a Light in the Val- 

I shall find down the valley no alarms, 
For my blessed Savior's smile I can see ; 
He will bear me in His loving, mighty arms, 
There's a light in the valley for me. 

Death, no matter what its form, had for Philip Bliss no terrors. He be 
lieved with all his soul, that Jesus Christ came to "abolish death," to destroy 
him that had the power of death that is, the devil and deliver them who 
through fear of death were all their life-time subject to bondage. Hence, 
though leading his life on in the daily expectation that the end might come, 
he was not only undismayed, but overflowing with gladness. I doubt not that 


if, after that terrific plunge, there was a moment of consciousness, his soul 
was full of peace, and was borne up in its chariot of fire with a shout of vic 
tory. And that serenity in facing death by whatever form it may come, and 
that triumph over it, it is the privilege of all God's children to have. 

The other thought connected with these Scripture texts which I suggest is, 
that the kingdom of Christ is in no sense so related to human instrumentali 
ties that when any of them drop out it suffers loss or hindrance. We are apt 
to think that it does. Our plans are largely conditioned by circumstances as 
to their results. If a crop fails, or a war breaks out, or a panic occurs, or sick 
ness comes, our hopes are wrecked ; and we are so conscious that we are hedged 
about by possible mishaps, and can forecast no plans which may not be frus 
trated, that we naturally think it must be so with God. Like us, He must 
have His forming times and seasons, must have His chosen instruments and 
agencies ; and if these fail, there must be great difficulty in making their place 
good, and the kingdom, hence, be checked. We have a feeling that certain 
honored laborers afe so thoroughly identified with the urging forward of the 
Gospel that they cannot be spared ; that their place cannot be filled. Mr. 
Moody's words over the sad tidings were the instinctive utterance of thousands 
of Christian hearts : " Know ye not that a prince and a great man is fallen this 
day in Israel ? Who shall take the place of this sweet singer, and carry on his 
noble work for Christ? It seems as if this consecrated voice and pen could not 
be spared, as if they had hardly crossed the threshold of their mission for the 
good of men and the glory of God." But I go back to the word of God, and 
the history of His church, and I say, God takes in all the meaning of this 
providence, and He has made no mistake. Suppose we had been among the 
chosen people when God called Moses up higher, and the question had been 
put to us, Can you spare Moses ? Shall God take him and provide you with 
another leader ? We should undoubtedly have made quick answer, "Spare 
Moses? the man whose counsel is as the word of the Everlasting One? him 
who communes with God face to face and holds back by his prayers the judg 
ments we deserve ? him who led us up out of Egypt, gave us our laws, our 
ritual of worship, and has brought us safely through all our enemies to the 
very borders of the land of promise ! No, now more than ever we need him. 
The land bristles with sons of Anak, and is full of fenced cities, how can we 
possess it? We must have him for counselor, for intercessor, for captain of 
the host. Take any one else, but spare us Moses. If he be taken all hope 
dies." But God had other plans. He knew how to take Moses and yet pro 
vide for Israel so that they should go forward to the immediate possession of 
the land and the longed-for and abundant fruitage of their hopes. 

Or, to put the case stronger, consider how indispensable, judged from a 
human standpoint, was the continuance in His work of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
He was the embodiment of the mind and heart of God. He knew all truth, 
and exactly how to unfold and apply it to men's hearts. He knew all wants, 
and woes, and wrongs, and was eager to put them all away. He was God in 
carnate, and down on men's level that He might feel the beating of their hearts, 
catch the cry of their need and break the curse of sin. How could He be 


spared, and men be equally helped, and His Gospel pressed on with equal 
potency? Who could open the blind eyes, unstop the deaf ears, empty all the 
hospitals, and asylums, and infirmaries as He did? Who could so unfold the 
words of heaven, bind up the broken hearts, cast out the evil spirits, prove to 
men that God had not forgotten the world nor had its control wrested from 
Him by the devil ? Yet the work of Christ only spread itself over three and 
a half years ; and before even that brief career is ended, we hear from his lips 
the strange words, "It is expedient for you that I go away." 

But what was the effect of Christ's departure ? Why, that after He left 
the world, there was more of Christ in it than before. The promise of the 
Comforter, conditioned upon His going away, was fulfilled, and the power of 
the Holy Ghost came upon the whole company of believers. And thus, while 
the Lord Himself ascends to heaven, there to carry on the work of His inter 
cession for His Church, these anointed men and women, in whose hearts the 
one absorbing purpose is to magnify Jesus Christ, go out and are multiplied a 
thousand fold, and spread the knowledge of His Gospel to the very ends of 
the earth. Christ remaining in the world is a single personality, teaching, 
healing, saving, and keeping His band of followers clinging timidly to His 
skirts, only echoing faintly His words and repeating feebly His works. 
Christ gone from the world and ascended into glory is potentially Christ repro 
duced among all His disciples, and these going forth with unparalleled enthu 
siasm, boldness and power, preaching Christ's Gospel, re-enacting Christ's life 
among all the nations and ages. So is it of every great worker. When he 
seems to drop his toil, he only begins it. While he enters into rest, God takes 
up the work which he let fall, and sends it out with His indorsement to repeat 
and multiply itself while the world stands. 

Do you suppose that when Charlotte Elliott wrote those words now so 
familiar in all lands : 

Just as I ain without one plea, 

she dreamed of their destiny ? She lived in one of the quiet, unknown ham 
lets of Old England ; and hardly one in a score that sing this sweet song knows 
her name. But how God has taken that one hymn, born, doubtless, in the 
closet, and sent it round the world, and down through all generations to save 
souls and exalt Christ. So will it be of our brother's work. Already witness 
has come to us that these Gospel songs have been translated into Chinese; and 
not long since, a missionary in Southern Africa wrote home, that while on one 
of his tours to establish a station for preaching the Gospel, he heard what 
seemed familiar music in one of the native kraals which he was passing. 
Curious to know what was the occasion, he entered the hut and found the 
Zulu children all engaged in singing in their native dialect, " Hold the Fort'!" 
By a forelock kindred to this would God have us all inspired for our work. 
It may be true, it ought to be true of every loyal disciple, that the fruitage for 
Christ after death should be to that preceding it, as the harvests that wave over 
the prairies to the first handful of seed scattered thereon. And when such 
leaders as our brother are called home, not only will they being dead yet speak, 


but their very dying, instead of checking the Kingdom, shall urge it on. There 
will be a Joshua to follow every Moses, an Elisha every Elijah, and working 
through all, the counsel that never knows defeat. 

Turning now to some features of our brother's character which have im 
pressed me, let me notice first, the wonderful sunniness or hopefulness which 
marked his life. I think I might safely call him the most joyous Christian I 
have ever known. It was a rare thing to see a shadow even transiently cloud 
ing his face. I remember when he came to me with one of his Sunday School 
singing- books just ready for the press, and desired help as to a fitting name. 
While we were conversing, suddenly his countenance lighted up with the 
words, " 1 believe I have it: why not call it Sunshine?" And some of you 
will recall how, on the cover there was emblazoned the full-orbed splendor 
of the sun. So when the " Gospel Songs " came out, the cover bore the same 
device with an open Bible in the heart of the rays. No symbol could have 
been more apt. His life, if not always led on under a clear sky, always had the 
sun shining through the clouds. Not that he was exempt from trials. He had 
his share of earthly disappointments, and the keen discipline they bring. He 
knew what it was to be misapprehended ; to have mean and selfish motives at 
tributed to him ; to be talked of as having a desire for self-glorification in lead 
ing the praise-service of the sanctuary ; to be accused of singing for pay. If any 
of you have known what it is to have the conceit fasten upon people's minds 
that you are other than you seem, sordid when you aim to be unselfish, hypo 
critical when you seek to be devout, you can understand Mr. Bliss' feelings 
under such imputations. Yet he never gave visible token of it. And he knew 
sore trials. He knew what it is to stand by the bed-side of a beloved wife, and 
press the hand that seems growing chill with the frost of death, and be watch 
ing the face for the last look, and day after day looking for the dreaded end to 
come. It was a marvel to me how he could go through this and be so calm. 
I thought it must be by a prodigious effort of will ; but I found, as I knew him 
better, that it was the consciousness of God's tender presence and upbearing 
Jove that sustained him. His anchorage was within the vail, and he believed 
and proved that God would be as good as His word, and keep him in perfect 
peace whose mind was stayed upon Him. So when the younger of these pre 
cious children seemed daily slipping out of his embrace, and he bent over the 
crib that he expected would so soon be empty, to take what might prove the 
last kiss, his hopefulness suffered no eclipse. There seemed always to be an 
open door between his soul and the city of light. 

As might be anticipated, his hymns and music are full of hope and exulta 
tion. There is hardly a melancholy verse or strain among them all. Almost 
invariably both songs and music swell and grow jubilant as they move on. 
Hallelujahs ring all through them. And not a few, however they begin, land 
us in the glory of the better country before they close. Glad tidings are in 
deed in them, and are their inspiration. 

When the sweet singer put his magnificent voice into the rendering, charged 
with the fervor of his sympathetic soul, as it was his delight to do, they that 
listened had a hint of what the joy of the Upper Presence will be. His buoy- 


ancy was contagious. I have known him, when a prayer meeting dragged, 
when very likely the minister was dispirited and others shared the feeling, to 
sweep his hand over the keys of the piano, and alike by touch and voice scatter 
the despondency as a burst of sunshine scatters fog ; and this because he sang 
as he felt. On one of the last occasions when he was with us, in a flying visit 
to our city made during his work as evangelist, he came in late and sat in the 
rear of the room. Espying him, I called him forward to sing the hymn en 
titled " My Prayer." He struck the piano keys, stopped, and reading the words 
in the latter part of the first stanza, " More joy in His service," said, " I don't 
think I can sing that as a prayer any more. It seems to me 1 have as much joy 
in serving the blessed Master as it is possible for me to bear." 

And the very last time he was present in a prayer gathering, after listening 
to the testimony of a number of young converts, he stepped to the piano, and 
after a word expressive of his delight in hearing the new voices, he said he 
would sing a new song that he hoped would encourage those who had recently 
come out for Christ. Then in his own royal way, that thrilled every heart, he 
gave us "Hold Fast till I Come : " 

Oh spirit o'erwhelmed by thy failures and fears, 
Look up to thy Lord, tho' with trembling and tears ; 
Weak faith, to thy call seem the heav'ns only dumb ? 
To thee is the message, " Hold fast till I come." 

Hold fast till I come, 

Hold fast till I come ; 

A bright crown awaits thee ; 

Hold fast till I come. 

This was his spirit always. Mr. Moody says God cannot use a discouraged 
Christian, if that be so, it is easy to see one prime factor of Brother Bliss' 
success in his work. He never lost heart, and so never compelled God to set 
him aside and use some one else. 

And this is what the Master wants us all to be, what the world greatly needs 
to see, buoyant, cheerful, singing believers. The current idea is that the 
religion of Christ is something burdensome, disheartening, a sort of sack- 
cloth-and -ashes life, chiefly led on through humiliations, fightings, fears. 
Christian people are largely responsible for this. Like the children of Israel 
in the desert, we are always ready to murmur at the roughness of the way, the 
lack of comforts, the bitter handlings of Providence. Many grumble far more 
than they give thanks. They forget the daily manna, the sufficient grace, the 
fellowship of the Spirit, the better country. Oh, the darkness that settles on 
so many Christian faces, and the despondency that enwraps so many Christian 
lives. How little do we impress those that, know us best as being the children 
of a King ! How seldom do they think of us as possessors of incalculable 
treasune, walking ever through green pastures, fearing no evil, having God's 
arms about us, and our faces shining with the joy of our communion with 
Christ and the anticipations of the glory that is only a few heart-beats away ! 
I fear that instead of this, as they see our somber faces and hear our dolorous 
witness, they think of treadmills and service under the lash. This ought not 


so to be. Dear brethren, let this life so overflowing with gladness help us to 
better things. Let it help us to that appropriation of our privileges as those 
who have been redeemed, delivered from condemnation, made now the chil 
dren of God, the heirs of the kingdom, that shall banish doubt and keep the 
songs of jubilee breaking continually from our lips. 

Another trait of our brother's character was his thorough unselfishness. It 
seems strange that he should have been even suspected of being sordid or eager 
for self glorification. And yet there are those, as has been intimated before, 
that thought him covetous of praise and pay. Never was suspicion more 
groundless, nor was there the slightest taint of sordidness about him. When 
he entered upon his career as a Gospel singer, his profession was yielding him 
a handsome revenue, and (as his publishers have assured me) he was certain to 
realize affluence. He turned his back on these prospects, and like the brother 
with whom he was associated, he surrendered income and ambitions, and with 
a family to be cared for, unhesitatingly committed himself to a life that prom 
ised not a penny. And he never murmured, never was downcast and never 
regretted the decision. Some of the facts respecting this unselfishness are 
very significant as showing how completely this spirit ruled him. Take that 
grand tribute paid him by Mr. Moody in the Tabernacle at Chicago last Sab 
bath morning. He stated that the royalty on the Gospel Songs and Hymns 
amounted to $60,000. He proposed to Mr. Bliss that he should take $5,000 of 
this sum and provide himself with a home. Mr. Bliss promptly declined the 
offer. They had agreed, as he felt, that whatever income was derived from 
the books should be devoted to benevolent uses. And he added, that if his 
Master was able to go without a home, he was sure he could until some other 
way opened to secure it. Mr. John Church, the Cincinnati publisher of his 
music, said to me : " When Mr. Moody returned from Europe the last time, 
Mr. Bliss had nearly ready for publication a book which I am certain would have 
netted not less than $10,000 or $12,000. Notwithstanding, when Mr. Moody 
wished him to issue a volume jointly with Mr. Sankey for use in revival ser 
vice?, he at once complied, and without a word of regret over the great pecu 
niary sacrifice, transferred all his choicest songs and music to the new book." 
Such things were characteristic, not exceptional. He had what I fear compar 
atively few Christians have, a charity fund to which he sacredly devoted a 
given part of his income. I do not know what that proportion was, but it has 
come to my knowledge that on occasion it yielded $1,000 in six months. No 
matter what needs pressed, that fund was never invaded. And the signifi 
cant thing about it was that it never seemed to run dry. He has put repeatedly 
into my hands sums ranging from $10 to $25 to be used among the poor. 
And when I expressed surprise at his being able to spare it, his reply was that 
God was very good to him and he never lacked. I have known him to hand 
his pocket-book to our church visitor after some recital of suffering or destitu 
tion, and tell her to help herself in behalf of those in need. I suspect that 
when the charity fund failed through the demands upon it, there was a fresh 
assignment of income. Would that more of the Lord's people would follow 
that practice. 


Then our brother was always glad to lend himself to every service where 
by he could lighten the burdens of any afflicted heart. He never spared him 
self in the line of ministering comfort at funerals, and services among the 
poor, and where the Shepherd had taken children to the upper fold. Now in 
the cottage of the day-laborer, now in the attics, or tenement houses where 
poverty and wretchedness abound, everywhere he was to be found scattering 
gloom, upbearing faith, solacing aching hearts, preaching Christ with the mar 
vels of his song. How often as he sang have the tears and sobs ceased and 
the light broken in on the faces full of dismay ! There are many homes 
where the music of that voice bringing God's comforts to the soul in its 
trouble, lingers in a memory that will never die. 

So when our brother sang, as he so often did, by the bedsides of God's 
afflicted children, he was greatly blessed in bringing out the bright side of 
God's providences. I have in mind a sister to whom the night brings no 
darkness and the day no sun, who rarely missed a visit from this pilgrim 
singer when he was in the city. And I have it from her lips that when that 
silver voice rang through her heart, and set forth the Christian's hope and 
triumph, her repinings ceased, her depression passed away, and forgetful of 
herself she was filled with joyful thoughts of Christ, and with the spirit of 
acquiescence in His will. 

Naturally this unselfishness found its highest expression in devotion to the 
work of winning souls. Always single-hearted, and faithful in using his 
opportunities for doing good, after he took up evangelistic labor he came to 
have a peculiar intensity of zeal in spiritual things. He hungered for more 
knowledge of Christ, more of the indwelling power of the Spirit, and this to 
the end that he might save men. In his later years, this desire was very 
marked. His testimonies in social meetings always emphasized it ; his daily 
conversation had it for a constant theme ; his appeals to Sabbath School chil 
dren, his songs were full of it. Even his ordinary correspondence, not only 
that of a friendly character, but that relating to business, was permeated with 
it. From the letters I have seen, I am constrained to believe that during the 
last three years, those letters, of whatever kind, were exceptional, that did not 
contain some word of earnest witness, encouragement or appeal in behalf 
of Christ and His salvation. I saw, the other day, a purely business letter in 
which toward the end was a most affectionate entreaty to accept Christ and live 
for Him. I remember a letter to a member of the choir, in which he pressed 
upon her very earnestly the claims of her Savior, and she traces to that appeal 
the beginning of her life of faith. And how many of you can bear like witness 
to his solicitude for your salvation ? In how many of your homes has he 
prayed during his transient home visits? With how many of you has he had 
personal interviews concerning your eternal welfare? How faithful he was to 
his Master and to you in these days of his last fellowship on earth. When he 
instituted those Bible readings and plead for souls, neither you nor he dreamed 
the end was so near, and that this was his last work for the Lord he loved. 
But if he had known it, wherein could he have been more faithful ? Up and 
down this valley he went day after day, telling the old, old story, and seeking 


to persuade all who heard, to believe and be saved ; and, as I learn, nearly a 
score of new-born souls rejoice to-day in the hope of eternal life through these 

This was his spirit always. He never had a choir rehearsal that was not 
opened with prayer ; and the burden of his prayer was. that the singing might 
exalt Christ. In the center of one of the stained windows of the transept of 
the church was a large crimson cross, and around it the words, "God forbid 
that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." Mr. Bliss often 
called attention to that symbol and its motto, and said, " I am glad the cross is 
always before us when we sing. Let us seek to forget ourselves and magnify 

A little incident that occurred at the, time of the burning of our church, in 
January, 1873, illustrates this. The front gable of the church was surmounted 
by a large cross, and underneath it was an immense window studded with pur 
ple stars. As the flames rolled up from within, the starry emblazonry shone 
out very beautifully; and when, climbing higher, they fairly garlanded the 
cross and, standing there among the gleaming stars, it seemed to dash the fiery 
billows back as with majestic disdain, the sight was grandly impressive. Com 
ing up to a young man. a member of the Sabbath School, Mr. Bliss laid his hand 
upon his shoulder, and said, " James, why not give your heart to the Savior 
to-night? Whygiot come to the cross this very hour? See it yonder! it was 
never so beautiful, never so dear to me as now." And I have it from the lips 
of the young man, now a member of the church, that those words on the pave 
ment brought him to a decision, and then and there he planted the cross in his 
heart. So this dear brother wrought ever. And no words could more truly 
set forth the one absorbing purpose that ruled his life, than those of one of his 
later and most effective pieces : 

My only song and story 

Is Jesus died for me; 
My only hope of glory 

The cross of Calvary. 

Would that the thousands of Christian people whose hearts are saddened by 
this providence, might, through it, come to know a spirit of like coveting of 

I name as a final characteristic that our brother was preeminently a singer 
of the Gospel. Taking both songs and music into the estimate, I think I may 
safely call him the Gospel singer of the age. Certainly I know of no one in 
the whole range of hymnology that has put Gospel truth into song with the 
clearness, and fullness and power which stamps the com positions of P. P. Bliss. 
Many of his songs, especially his later ones, are little else than Scripture versi 
fied and set to music. Take, for example : 

" Jesus of Nazareth Passeth By," 

" Free from the Law," 

"Look and Live," 

" Whosoever Will may Come," 


" Hear ye the Glad Good News from Heaven ? " 

"Almost Persuaded," 

" Seeking to Save," 

" No Other Name." 

There is Gospel enough in almost any one of them to lead a troubled soul to 
Christ. And in no hymns with which I am acquainted, not even Charles 
Wesley's, is the doctrine of salvation by the blood of Christ as the sacrifice for 
sin. so clearly stated, so fully emphasized 5 and no wonder these songs were 
born in the closet and at the foot of the cross. 

This is why, as Mr. Moody testifies, no songs so lay hold of people's hearts. 
In words and music they are surcharged with the very spirit of the Gospel. And 
herein lies the secret of the power which they are destined to wield in after 
years. Take the hymns that have wrought themselves imperishably into the 
affections of God's people, such, for example, as : 

" Rock of Ages," 

"Just as I am," 

" Nearer, my God, to Thee," 

" Jesus, Lover of My Soul," 

" All hail the Power of Jesus' Name," 

and what is the reason of the place they hold ? Obviously this, that they em 
body truths which go to the heart of the Gospel, truths that have to do with 
the most vital experiences of the soul in seeking and working out salvation. 
So of these songs of Philip Bliss. And this is why the Chinese and the Zulus 
sing them. They do not sing " Hail Columbia-," or the "Star Spangled Ban 
ner." They do not care for the story of our native land ; they have no interest 
in either its past or its future. But the story of Jesus Christ, of the Lamb 
slain that sinners might have pardon, that story finds a response in their hearts. 
They kiiow they are in darkness. They know they are in trouble. They 
know the curse of sin binds its yoke upon their souls, keeps its cry of woe 
upon their lips. And when they hear these songs, they recognize the offer of 
help, the opening up of a way of deliverance. In a word, the conscious want 
of men the world over is Christ, and these songs preach Him. They press him so 
fully, that if a ship were wrecked among the South Sea Islands, where no mis 
sionary has ever yet set foot, and the survivors should have no Bliss, nothing 
but a copy of the " Gospel Songs," I should expect in five years to find 
churches and Sunday Schools and revivals and missions among the heathen 
round about. 

They have been most wonderfully blessed already. At the farewell meet 
ing in London, after the labors of Brother Moody and Brother Sankey were 
closed in that city, Lord Shaftesbury said that "if Mr. Sankey had done no 
more than teach the people to sing ' Hold the Fort,' he would have conferred 
an inestimable blessing on the British Empire." Mr. Sankey bears witness 
that these songs laid hold of the English people with wonderful power. Major 
Cole says, " the ragged children of London, children who are largely street, waifs 
living in the utmost ignorance and degradation, flocked to hear and sing these 
songs till they had ten thousand of them at a gathering. And to this day, they 


are to be heard on the streets, in the courtyards, stables, shops, factories, homes, 
everywhere. Mothers rock their babes to sleep with them alike among the 
rich and the poor. Nobility and peasantry find common inspiration in them, 
and to the suffering and dying of every rank they minister inexpressible 

But their grandest work, at home and abroad, has been in preaching the 
Gospel and winning souls. Let me give a single illustration of many connected 
with the recent revival services in Chicago. One of the reformed inebriates 
gays that he had been for years one of the hardest of drinkers. His friends 
had given him up as a hopeless case, and he had given up himself and expected 
to die as he lived, and meet a drunkard's awful doom. In this condition he 
came to Chicago, and one day, when more than half-intoxicated, wandered 
aimlessly with the crowd into the Tabernacle, and found a seat in the gallery. 
He was too intoxicated to know much about what was going on, and did not re 
member anything about the text or the sermon. During the evening, Mr. San- 
key sang " What shall the Harvest be ? " And when he came to the words 

" Sowing the seed of a lingering pain, 
Sowing the seed of a maddened brain, 
Sowing the seed of a tarnished name, 
Sowing the seed of eternal shame ; 
O, what shall the harvest be ? " 

the singer's voice rang through the inebriate like a trump of judgment, and 
fairly sobered him. The conscience so long dead was roused and began to 
lash him with the words of the song. His wasted, wretched life passed in 
painful review before him. The promise of his youth blighted, the ambitions 
and hopes of manhood turned to ashes, his family beggared and disgraced ; 
his name a byword of shame, his friends among the pure and good all alienated 
and his fellowship only with the low and vile, his whole career one dark, 
damning record of folly and sin, and before him a gathering night of hopeless 
despair he could not endure the torment of such a vision. It was hell before 
the time. So he went out and tried to drown the song in drink. But it would 
not die. It rang in his ears by day and by night, and forced him again and 
again to the Tabernacle. By and by his sin so burdened him that he went to 
Mr. Sawyer's inquiry room, and there God met him, took his feet out of the 
horrible pit, planted them on the Rock and put a new song into his mouth. 
And now he is doing with his might to help others bound by the same curse 
find the blessed liberty of the Gospel. 

This is only one case of scores, that during this single revival have been 
led into the kingdom through the agency of these hymns. So it has been 
elsewhere, so it will continue to be. I believe, with Mr. Moody, that God 
raised up Philip Bliss as truly as Charles Wesley to save men by singing the 
Gospel. And herein lies the guaranty of a mighty harvest of souls in the days 
to come. Few of us have ever read John Wesley's or Isaac Barrow's sermons ; 
but there are none of us who do not sing Charles Wesley's hymns, and Isaac 
Watts' versions of the Psalms. The preacher's horizon relatively to the 


singer's is an exceedingly narrow one. He may reach the men of his city, 
his country, his age, possibly a handful in other lands and in after years ; 
but the singer's voice ranges all lands, all ages. Not only does it not die, but 
it gathers potency with every cycle of years. Such hymns as Rock of Ages, 
Just as I Am, My Faith looks up to Thee, will be sung as long as there are 
saints to be helped or sinners to be saved. Every generation will only widen 
their influence and magnify their power as agencies which God delights to 
honor. I do not hesitate to say that some of my Brother Bliss' songs will go 
down the future side by side with these in their ministry of Christ and salva 
tion. And the fruitage of his life before God called him, blessed as it was, 
compared with that which shall yet be garnered, will prove only as the first 
fruits to an ingathering that only the arithmetic of heaven can measure. He 
dropped the seeds by handfuls, but the harvest shall wave like Lebanon. 

While I say these things, I do not forget how thoroughly identified with 
our brother in all his aims and work, was his dear wife, over whose early going 
home we both mourn and rejoice to-day. She not only cheerfully accepted the 
call of Providence which took her husband so largely from home, but with 
constant and potent aid of voice and pen she helped to crown his work with 
an abundant success. He appreciated such cooperation, and often recognized 
it, saying that he " was more indebted to his wife than any one else for what 
he was and what he had done." " Lovely and pleasant in their lives, in their 
death they were not divided." Their memories are alike precious, and their 
works will alike follow them. 

In the mountains of the Tyrol, it is the custom of the mothers, and wives 
and children to go forth when the twilight gathers, to welcome home their 
husbands, and fathers and sons, from their care of the flocks up the mountain 
heights. And as they go they sing a strain or two of some national air, and 
then listen, till apparently from the clouds there float down to them the answer 
ing refrains, and they know that all is well, and that ere long they will see the 
faces and be clasped in the arms of those they love. Something so may we 
not venture to imagine it here. In the deepening twilight of our sorrow we 
lift our eyes to the uplands of the better country, longing for the fellowship of 
these dear departed ones. And as we look, the sweet strains they taught us and 
which we were wont to sing together, break instinctively from our lips, and 
lo, in the pauses of our song there seems to float down to us from the heavenly 
heights the refrain borrowed from our lips, " Watching and waiting for you." 
Dear friends, we are the pilgrims, and these who have gone before are the 
ones at home. And a little way on, a few more steps only of this rough and 
thorny way, after a few more pains, and griefs, and tears, and a little more 
blessed toil for Christ and for souls, we shall receive their welcome, share their 
joy, and abide in our Father's house forever. 

I should be unfaithful to the spirit of my brother, and to the significance 
of this Providence, if I did not add a word of solemn admonition. Dear friends, 
you have been wont, some of you, to meet the appeals of the Gospel for your 
personal acceptance of Christ, with that old excuse, " when I have a conve 
nient season." Very possibly you used it, or had it in your thought, when you 


were pressed by my brother during these last meetings held here the week 
before he died. You may have sat where you now do, and as his loving eye 
searched you out, and his tender entreaty fell on your ear, you may have 
answered, " Yes, I ought to decide for Christ, I ought to make sure of the sal 
vation of my soul, and when I have a convenient season, I will." Ah, that 
hoary lie, how many souls it has deluded into perdition. What a mighty 
witness this catastrophe to the Scripture doctrine now is the accepted time. 
Suppose our brother had gone through that train on that fatal evening and 
said to his fellow-travelers, " We propose to have a little Gospel meeting in the 
parlor car. We will sing a few hymns, have a word or two of Scripture, and 
a few testimonies and prayers as any feel inclined. We should be glad to have 
you there." Suppose, further, that such a meeting had been held, and that 
just before the train reached Ashtabula, Mr. Bliss had said : "Friends, this has 
been a delightful hour. It has made heaven seem very near, and eternal things 
very real. It is not to be expected that we shall ever meet again, and now be 
fore we part, I feel impressed to invite any who have not yet accepted Christ, 
to receive Him now. Now He stands at the door. Now the Spirit calls. To 
morrow may be too late. I will sing a little song and while I sing, will not 
those present without conscious peace with God, make the great decision." 
Then, after singing in his touching way " Almost Persuaded," imagine that just 
as the whistle sounded for their last stop, he closed the meeting. What various 
comments would have followed. Let us hope that there would have been one 
or two at least to accept the offered salvation and to pass from death unto life. 
But the greater number would doubtless have stood aloof. Some would have 
said, " This gentleman sings well, I should like to hear him in a concert where 
they had something besides hymns." Some, " This matter of salvation is of 
great importance ; I have often wished I were a Christian, and when New 
Year's comes round I believe I will set about being one in earnest." Others, 
'' These evangelists are all alike ; they don't think it impertinent to interrupt 
a game of cards, as this one did ours, or a pleasant story, or conversation. 
Then they are always talking about 'blood,' and ' wrath,' and despair, and 
making every one feel so uncomfortable. I wish they would keep their reli 
gion to themselves." Possibly some would have sneered, and as they stepped 
on board as the train started from Ashtabula, said, " what folly to be frightened 
into getting on one's knees and crying for forgiveness here on the cars ! There 
will be time enough for that when we get home. They are having a revival 
in our town, and the true place to settle such a question is a church, or a man's 
home." Then a moment of adjustment to their places, the cards dealt, the 
books resumed, the jests exchanged, the storm noted and their watches exam 
ined to see how late they would be at Cleveland : then that terrific plunge 
the convenient season forever beyond their reach ! 

Oh, friend, if you are here unsaved, let the voice of this dreadful calamity 
emphasize that one word now. The word of God has no invitation, no promise 
for to-morrow. Repent now. Believe now. Escape for thy life now. May God 
help you every one to believe this day OE the Lord Jesus Christ and to be 


At the close of Mr. Goodwin's address, Major Whittle announced 
as a closing song a hymn that had just been found among Mr. Bliss' 
papers probably his latest work entitled " He Knows." He 
remarked that had Mr. Bliss desired to leave a special message of 
comfort to his bereaved friends appropriate to their present calamity, 
he could not have left anything more beautiful or more comforting. 

So I go on in the dark, not knowing ; 

I would not if I might ; 
I would rather walk with God in the dark 

Than walk alone in the light ; 
I would rather walk with Him by faith 

Than walk alone by sight. 

Before the singing of the hymn Major Whittle briefly addressed 
the people as follows : 

I cannot but say a word to God's people who are here in this village. It 
seems to me that Christian men and women here should consecrate themselves 
anew to God. It is not a light thing to have the providence of God corne to 
any of us as it has come to you. You have had two of God's servants among you. 
Mrs. Bliss stood shoulder to shoulder with her husband, consecrated to God, 
ripening for Heaven ; a noble, Christian woman ; my sister in Christ Jesus. I 
loved her as I loved her husband. You have had these two servants of God 
and they have left their testimony here. Dear friends, I would not want to die 
in this village professing to be a Christian, and go up to God with a barren 

Some of you went to school with them and know how right down thorough 
they were. Take up this work. Let the memory of this dear brother inspire 
us. Let -his songs inspire us. His heart was here in Rome. He prayed for 
you here in Rome. He loved these hills. This valley was dear to him. 

A year ago he started a union Sabbath School, for he loved the children. 
Consecrate yourselves anew to this work. Let his name be attached to a union 
Sunday School. And as the echo of his glorious voice has rung over these 
hills, may it never die away till we are called to meet him in glory. 

You loved that noble man as a brother. You loved his wife, that dear, dear 
sister. You could not bear to have a word said against him. But you grieved 
Philip Bliss in the deepest sympathy of his heart. When he looked back upon 
these hills for the last time, he carried away an ache in his heart that many of 
you had a part in putting there. You never have given your hearts to his 
Savior. Philip Bliss loved Jesus Christ ; and that anybody that he loved 
should not love Jesus Christ made his heart ache. All the best impulses of 
your heart are upon the side of Jesus. My friends, I beg of you in the name of 
Christ, in the name of Philip Bliss, in the name of his dear wife who grew up 


in your valley, and is now in Heaven, I beg of you, young women, young men, 
middle aged, give your hearts to God. 

I do pray God that this may be a blessed day to this valley, to these pastors, 
and to friends all. And I want Brother Goodwin to lead us in prayer before 
we sing, that we may consecrate ourselves to the service of our Master, and 
tkat you will decide : I take Philip Bliss' Savior as my Savior, his God as my 

The Elmira (New York) Advertiser, from which we have largely 
drawn for the materials for this chapter, says : 

" The services were about two hours and a half in duration and 
were very solemn and impressive throughout. The many relatives 
of the deceased, and the fact of this having been the home of their 
childhood, and many present remembering them as schoolmates and 
early friends, made it seem to the whole community like a house 
hold grief. Never has any event in the history of this beautiful 
valley so profoundly moved its population. Mr. and Mrs. Bliss were 
enthroned in the hearts of the people. Their memory will linger 
long round those beautiful hills and among the people of the Wy- 
socken Valley ; the place they loved to call their earthly home. 
His last labor for the Master was done here. During the two weeks 
of his holiday visit he held almost nightly meetings and visited from 
house to house, inviting his friends to accept Christ. God blessed 
his labors, and a score or more during his visit turned to the Savior. 

" At an afternoon service on the day of the funeral, many more 
who had been impressed during Mr. Bliss' labors publicly manifested 
their decision to accept Christ and commence a Christian life. 

" By special request, a union meeting was also held in Towanda in 
the evening a memorial service participated in by all the pastors 
and people. Rev. Darwin Cook, pastor of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss twenty 
years ago in Some, who gave Mr. Bliss his first encouragement to 
devote himself to the composition of music, and who married them, 
was present and offered prayer. Upon invitation, at the close, a 
large number rose as desiring the prayers of Christians that they 
might enter into a Christian experience." 



FOR the account of the memorial services held in Chicago, we are 
much indebted to the daily newspapers, and have in part 
adopted their language as our own, as it eloquently portrays the 
character of the services and the deep feeling betrayed by the people. 

A large congregation assembled at the Tabernacle on Sunday 
morning, December 31, 1876. Mr. Moody had announced a sermon 
on " The Return of Our Lord," but from the drapery of mourning 
around the platform and the galleries, with its heavy lines and 
festoons of black and white, and the pure beautiful white crowns 
which stood upon the speaker's stand, it was evident that, instead of 
the coming of the Lord to us, the topic of the morning was to be 
the departure of loved ones to Him. The announcement in the 
papers that Mr. Bliss, with his entire family, had perished in the 
fearful wreck of the railway train at Ash tabula, Ohio, fell with such 
weight upon the ears and hearts of his thousands of friends in 
Chicago, that for hours it was impossible for them to realize it, or 
even to believe it to be true. But, if any of them went with linger 
ing hopes to the meeting, one look at the great Tabernacle with its 
emblems of death overhanging the promises of eternal life which are 
inscribed on its walls, was sufficient to show that the only hope of 
ever seeing or hearing this sweet singer of our Israel again was in 
joining him on the other shore. Four crowns all together, and all 
for one family ! Not often does heaven bestow so lavishly. One for 
Paul, one for " Paulina," one for the son who bore his father's name, 
and one for little George Goodwin ; these crowns are woven of pure 
white camellias and lilies, but those crowns are made of " glory." 

While the congregation was assembling the choir sang softly and 
lovingly several of the favorite hymns written by the man whose 
name Death had written on the tablets of history, and whose record 


God had written in the Book of Life. Presently Mr. Moody entered, 
and, as all eyes were turned to see how this man, twice broken under 
the weight of affliction since these meetings began, would bear 
himself, and as all ears were listening for his first word in his great 
sorrow, he stood up in his place and, with manifest trouble to keep 
back the sobs and tears, he repeated those words of David, " Know 
ye not that there is a Prince and a great man fallen in Israel ! " 
Then, almost unable to speak for weeping, he said, " Let us lift up 
our hearts to God in silent prayer." A long period of silence fol 
lowed, broken at length by signs of overpowering emotion, in the 
midst of which the voice of Dr. Chamberlain was heard giving 
thanks to God for the hope of eternal life, on behalf of this entire 
household who had been borne on angels' wings from the place ol 
terror and death up to the bosom of God. 

The congregation then joined in singing: "In the Christian's 
Home in Glory there Kemains a Land of Rest;" after which 
Mr. Moody arose and said: 

I was to take up the subject of our Lord's return, but I cannot control mj 
feelings so as to speak as I intended. I will take up that subject at auothei 
time. When I heard last night that Mr. Bliss and his whole family had 
perished, at first I could not believe it, but a despatch from a friend who was or 
the train took away all hope, and left me face to face with death. For the pasl 
three months I have seemed to stand between the living and the dead, and nov 
I am to stand in the place of the dead. Mr. Whittle and Mr. Bliss wert 
announced to hold the 4 o'clock meeting in the Tabernacle to-day, and no\\ 
Mr. Farwell, and Mr. Jacobs, and Mr. Whittle, with other friends, have gone tc 
see if they can find his remains to take them away for burial. I have beer 
looking over his hymns to see if I could find one appropriate to the occasion, 
but I find they are all like himself, full of hope and cheer. In all the years 1 
have known and worked with him I have never once seen him cast down. Bui 
here is a hymn of his that I thought we might sing. Once after the wreck ol 
that steamer at Cleveland, I was speaking of the circumstance that the lowei 
lights were out, and the next time we met he sang this hymn for me ; it is the 
sixty-fifth in our collection ; let us sing it now. It begins, " Brightly beams oui 
Father's mercy," but still more brightly beams the light along the shore tc 
which he has passed. It was in the midst of a terrible storm he passed away, 
but the lights which he kindled are burning all along the shore. He has died 
young, only about 38 years old, but his hymns are sung round the world, 
Only a little while ago we received a copy of these hymns translated into the 
Chinese language. 

In spite of the mourning it is sweet to think that this whole family passed 
away together, father and mother, Paul, only 4 years old, and little George, only 


2 years old, all gone home safe together. There comes a voice to us saying, 
"Be still and know that I am God," but we know that " our Father doeth all 
things well." 

The sixty-fifth hymn was then sung. 

Mr. Sankey read from a letter he had received from Mr. Bliss 
near his old home in Towanda, Pa., in which his happy faith in God 
and his love for his dear old mother were sweetly expressed. 

Rev. Dr. Goodwin, of whose church Mr. Bliss had for many 
years been a loved and honored member, then came forward 
and said : 

Ever since these sad tidings came I have been trying to say, " Not my will, 
but Thine be done." I don't know of any death that has come so near to me. 
For years I have been almost as a part of that household ; one of the little ones 
bore my name ; we have worked and prayed together, and I have known very 
much of his heart in connection with the great mission of his life, and shared in 
his ever-increasing delight that God .vas using him and his music so wonder 
fully. It was hours after the awful news came before I could see any light, 
but at last I seemed to see a vision of a great praise service in heaven with 
Brother Bliss leading it he was to have led a praise meeting at our Sunday- 
school this afternoon and then I found light in this darkness. Out of the fifty 
Sunday-school scholars who are xiow waiting to be received into the fellowship 
of our church, there is hardly one but can bear witness to his helpfulness in 
leading them to Christ. This morning it seems wonderful to me that this whole 
family should be taken up together, all at once, to enter the world of praise and 
take up the new song ; a f nil household now, for one had gone before. Out of 
this affliction has come V them an exceeding and eternal weight of glory, and so 
I begin to feel it, a we'i as say it, all is well, all is well. It is not that the 
Lord does not care for us ; but " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death 
of His saints," and " The day of his death is better than the day of his birth.'' 
Thirty -five tina^s have I been called this year to comfort the mourning ones in 
my congregation, and the thought has come to me of a little praise meeting in 
Heaven to-day of those who have come up from that First Congregational 
Church. This is not the time to speak as I would like to speak, but this I can 
say, that no man is so identified with the work of the Lord but that God can 
glorify him, and still carry on the work. Here is that thirteenth hymn which 
Mr. Bliss sung for us the other night. He began by saying, " Brethren, I don't 
know as I shall ever sing here again (and he never did), but I want to sing this 
as the language of my heart." 

" Let us sing that hymn," said Mr. Moody, which was done. 

The next speaker was Rev. Dr. Thompson, who had only the 
previous evening returned from a double funeral service among his 
relatives in another State, to which he had been summoned by 


telegraph, and where he had been singing the hymns of Brother 
Bliss at the bedside of the sick at the very hour of the awful 
calamity. He has learned, said the Doctor, the form of his mansion 
fair, and the song that the angels sing. " A few days ago I received a 
letter from a friend who had been annoyed at the charge that 
Brother Bliss sang for gain, and desiring me to disprove it if I 
could; and when I spoke to him about it, he said, with a smile: 
4 1 sing for Christ ; I have not even a home to my name.' His 
songs are sung round the world, and it seems to me they are sung in 
glory, too. By and by the* work of the preacher will be done, but 
the singing will go on forever ; singing the name of Jesus and the 
triumph of the redeemed." 

After further remarks by Mr. Moody, prayer was offered by Kev. 
Dr. Williamson, especially in behalf of the mother of the deceased. 
The twenty-second hymn was then sung " We're Going Home.'' 

Mr. Moody then appointed two committees; the first to raise 
money and erect a monument to the memory of the dead, consisting 
of Messrs. T. W. Harvey, J. Y. Farwell, Henry Field, and 
J. D. Sankey. Mr. Henry Field, of Field, Leiter & Co., was 
appointed treasurer of this fund, to whom all contributions may be 
addressed. Mr. Moody requested that as there were so many who 
would want a share in this work of love, that none should give more 
than a dollar. 

A collection was then taken for that purpose, the only one ever 
taken in the Tabernacle. 

The other committee was to draft resolutions and communicate 
them to the friends of the deceased. It consists of the Rev. Messrs. 
Goodwin, Bishop Cheney, Dr. Parkhurst, Dr. Everts and Dr. Petrie. 
The benediction was pronounced by the Rev. Mr. Walker. 
At the afternoon services, the Tabernacle was more than com 
fortably filled. Those who were there wore on their countenances a 
funeral aspect. Around the pulpit and along the gallery were long 
stretches of white and black muslin, festooned in grieving recollec 
tions of Mr. Bliss' untimely end. A spirit of sadness prevailed, and 
the religion that teaches that the death of good men should bring no 
mourning in its train seemed to bring very little consolation to the 
vast number of sorrowing friends, so sudden had been their 

The usual exercises opened with music. 


I gave my life for tliee, 

My precious blood I shed 
That thou might'st ransomed be 

And quickened from the dead 
I gave, I gave My life for thee ; 
What hast thou given for Me ? 

Mr. Moody had hoped for some better news, he said; hoped that 
it might turn out to be a mistake, but a late despatch from Maj. 
Whittle dispelled all this, and confirmed the first horrible report of 
the death of Mr. Bliss and his family, whose remains had been re 
covered though not recognizable. 

Mr. Sankey sang " Watching and Waiting for Me," and the audi 
ence were still as death as the beautiful words rang out. 

Mr. Moody said that he had looked forward to this Sabbath to 
hear Maj. Whittle preach and Mr. Bliss sing. Only Friday night he 
had told his wife that he was weary, and he anxiously awaited the 
rest this Sunday promised. But now he found he must take Maj. 
Whittle's place. Only one text suggested itself to him, and had 
been ringing in his head all day : '* Therefore be ye also ready." He 
called on those who had heard him preach for three months to bear 
him witness that he had said nothing about death, confining himself 
to life. But it might be that before long God might lay him away, and 
send some one to take his place, and he could not forbear saying a 
word urging upon all the necessity of regeneration and preparation. 
His voice was more subdued than usual, and in all he said and in all 
his readings from the Scriptures, it came tremulously and mingled 
with tears. He spoke painfully and with difficulty, the words some, 
times utterly unintelligible. " Be ye therefore ready. Don't put it off. 
There are some who may say I am preaching for effect and making 
use of this good man's death to frighten you." Satan might even 
say that of him and say it truly. He was preaching for effect, and 
he hoped the effect would be to save the soul of every human being 
before him. He felt that he must warn them must warn them of 
the wrath to come and the death pursuing. That death hath sent 
many a warning during the year, and now an awful one had come. 
Many of them had looked down upon the dead faces and opened 
graves of departed friends. Would they not heed those warnings ? 
Would they not heed this last one, that might be even nearer to 
themselves than any before ? . Death had taken them by surprise, and 


had taken Mr. Bliss at the very time the speaker was writing out the 
notices of Bliss' appearance to-day. He and his wife were snatched 
from life. But they were ready. They might have suffered for a few 
minutes, maybe for an hour, but when they reached heaven there 
was none in all the celestial choir that sang sweeter or played better 
on his golden harp than P. P. Bliss. 

He would rather have been on that train and taken that awful 
leap, and died like P. P. Bliss and his wife, than had them go as they 
did. And every man would feel so who knew God and was ready 
to die. Oh ! might they profit by the calamity. 

Mr. Moody prayed long and earnestly for the unsaved souls, and 
invoked the richest outpourings of mercy on the obstinate hearts. 
At times during the prayer he stopped for some minutes, utterly 
unable to control his emotions. 

Then came a silent prayer, during which about two dozen arose 
on invitation, to be remembered in the invocation. 

" Kock of Ages," sung by the congregation, closed the services. 

The morning services on the same day, at the Chicago Avenue 
Church widely and popularly known as " Mr. Moody's Church " 
were conducted by Messrs. Moody and Sankey. Mr. Sankey sang 
several of his Gospel solos, one, " When Jesus Comes," a favorite of 
Mr. Bliss, creating a profound impression on the audience. The 
whole service hymns, prayers, and sermon had reference to the 
sad end of Mr. Bliss and the dreadful railroad accident of Friday. 

Prior to the sermon Mr. Moody offered up a fervent prayer for 
Divine help to sustain them in the sad bereavement which had c&me 
upon them. , 

During the sermon which followed, Mr. Moody said : 

This being the last day of the year, I had been looking forward to it as one 
of the most solemn days of the year, and I had prepared some thoughts to bring 
out on this occasion. But little did I think it was going to be as solemn as it 
is. My thoughts have been drifted into another channel entirely. A text came 
into my mind when I heard of the sudden death of Mr. Bliss and his family. 
He was coming to the city to fill his appointment here to-day. He was to have 
been with us this morning, and it seems almost as if I am standing in the place 
of the dead. It is always solemn to stand between the living and the dead, as 
a preacher does ; but it is a great deal more solemn to step into a dead man's 
shoes, as I feel to have done to-day. The text that occurred to me is in the 
twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew and the forty-fourth verse : " Therefore be 
ye also ready." Death often took us by surprise, but it did not find Mr. Bliss 


unprepared. He and his wife had been ripening for heaven for years, and I 
have been thinking of that family before the throne this morning singing the 
sweetest song they had ever sung. We should profit by this awful calamity. 
God is coming very near this city ; there was never before such an inquiring 
after God as there is now ; and this last stroke of Providence ought to be a 
warning to every one to get in readiness to meet the Lord. If you do not take 
this warning I do not know what would move your hearts. There are three 
things every man and woman ought to be ready for life, death, and judgment. 
Life is uncertain ; no man can tell at what hour or in what manner Death may 
visit him. Accidents like the one which occurred Friday are by no means un 
common, and may strike down any one of us. It therefore behooves every man 
to place his trust in Christ, so that he might be prepared to meet Him at any 

On the evening of the 5th of January, an additional service was 
held at the Tabernacle. Inside the building there were at least 8,000 
people ; outside there were 4,000. The exercises were to be more 
than ordinarily interesting, for it was to be a song-service in memory 
of Mr. Bliss. Early in the evening the crowd assembled to pay their 
last tribute, anxious to assist in the rites. The Tabernacle was filled. 
The doors were locked. Those inside patiently awaited the exercises. 
Outside, the unfortunates pulled and pushed and crowded against the 
building and begged and implored the inexorable doors to open unto 
them. It was of no avail. Until the service was ended the disap 
pointed held possession of the sidewalks, hoping to hear through the 
open windows, even if they could not participate. 

The whole service was musical, with a brief introduction to the 
hymns by Mr. Moody and short prayers. 

Hallelujah ! 'tis done, I believe on the Son, 
I am saved by the blood of the Crucified One, 

and the congregation took up the chorus. " Hold the Fort " came 
next, the children singing the fourth verse and the choir the refrain. 
There were hundreds of young voices and they sang with a will. 
Mr. Moody related the circumstances under which the hymn was 

" Beneath the Cross of Jesus," a hymn not so well known appa 
rently as the rest, was sung exquisitely by Mr. Sankey. Then Mr. 
Moody prefaced " Boll on, Oh ! Billow of Fire," with an anecdote of 
its basis. To the children again was committed the twenty-third 
hymn, " I am so glad that Jesus loves me." They sang sweetly, and 


at the conclusion there was a rattle of applause in the audience. 
" Whosoever will may come/' brought the congregation to their 

" At one of the Expositions," said Mr. Moody, " a common invita 
tion was, ' Meet me at the Fountain,' and upon this Mr. Bliss wrote 
the hymn, 'Will you meet me at the Fountain?'" Mr. Sankey 
sang it. 

" Precious promise God hath given," and Mr. Moody read the 
twenty-third psalm, and Mr. Sankey sang, " There's a Light in the 
Valley for Me." "Weary Gleaner, Whence Cometh Thou?" Mr. 
Moody spoke of the Gospel meetings in New York, where the ser 
vice had been entirely of song. He thought such meetings profit 
able. From a friend he had learned that the last seen of Mr. Bliss 
he had a Bible in his hand and was composing a song never to 
be heard on earth, only to swell the waves of music that roll across 
the Heavens. " Only an Armor-bearer Proudly I Stand," sang Mr. 
Sankey, the congregation joining in the chorus. "Fading Away 
like the Stars in the Morning," a rich, beautiful hymn, was exqui 
sitely rendered by Mrs. Johnson, and Mr. Sankey followed with 
" Waiting and Watching," the most pathetic of all Bliss' music. 

" Eock of Ages," to the music composed by Mrs. Bliss, and " Hold 
the Fort," were sung by the congregation as they dispersed. 



80 widely was Mr. Bliss known, and so warmly was he beloved, 
that the grief at his death was well-nigh universal among all 
professing the faith of Jesus. Not alone at Kome and Chicago, but 
at numerous other places, memorial services were held in honor of 
the dead singer. We have culled largely from the newspaper reports 
of these services, and present them here in connected form, as a part 
of the record this book was designed to perpetuate. 

On the evening of January 21, a large congregation assembled at 
the Reformed Church in South Bend, Indiana, to attend the services 
held there in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, which were conducted by 
the pastor, Rev. N. D. Williamson. The songs sung were of Mr. 
Bliss' own composition, and were very effectively rendered by the 
choir and congregation. Two " Eternity " and " Almost Persuaded " 
were sung as solos by Miss Maud Wellman. The pastor enjoyed 
the personal acquaintance of Mr. Bliss, and the affectionate regard 
which he entertained for him was evident in the deep feeling betrayed 
by the tones of his voice in discoursing of his unspeakably sad fate. 
Many of the congregation also knew Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, and more 
than one gave evidence of tears to the manner in' which their hearts 
were touched by the dreadful story. At the close of the sermon, 
Prof. J. Sydenham Duer read with tender effect the lines written on 
Mr. Bliss 3 death by Rev. Dr. Pierson, of Detroit, entitled "The 
Silent Harp." Hon. Schuyler Colfax had intended to be present and 
pay a tribute to the memory of Mr. Bliss, in lieu of which he sent a 
tender and beautiful letter, which was read by the pastor. Our 
limits forbid our giving it space. 

Mr. Williamson selected as his text Revelation xiv. 13 : " Blessed 
are the dead which die in the Lord that they may rest from their 


labors, and their works do follow them." We copy the greater por 
tion of his discourse : 

To " die in the Lord " is indeed blessed. But to die in the Lord it is not 
needful that you die in your hed, at the close of a wasting sickness, attended by 
skillful physicians, surrounded by tearful friends, and bearing witness with your 
dying breath to the mercy of the Lord. To die in the Lord it is not necessary to 
have your body garnitured by all the taste and skill that loving friends and 
experienced undertakers can furnish, nor to have it followed by a long train of 
relatives and friends, nor to have it deposited in the grave or the tomb amid the 
sobbing of the multitude, nor to have the spot visited by admiring friends dur 
ing the years and centuries that follow. 

To those who die in the Lord, death may come on the highway with thunder 
ing crash, with shrieks and moans, and suffocated breath, and mangled limbs, 
and frost, and fire, and storm-winds ; and it may turn the body into undistin 
guished ashes, mingled with the snows and waters, so that no friend who seeks 
them with the intensest gaze of agony, that he may bear them to their sepulture, 
and no admirer who would beautify the earth that covers them with garlands of 
gratitude, can tell where they are. 

For even amid the tornado crash, the rending earthquake, and the consuming 
fire, the God of the elements and the God of grace can enwrap their souls in His 
everlasting arms of peace, and bear them with swifter than lightning wing into 
the realms of the painless and the glorified. And He can keep watch and guard 
over the ashes of their physical decay, until the dawning of the resurrection 
morn, when the power that made the God- like Adam out of the dust of the earth 
will restore them in Christ like forms of excellence and glory ! And the empha 
sis that such a departure gives to the faith and labors of a godly life, may carry 
the praises of the Lord, through the instrumentality of that life, infinitely far 
ther on the broad world and down the reaches of time than a thousand peaceful 
death-bed utterances possibly could do. Yes ! those whose memories we honor 
to-night who went into eternity on the sad evening of the 29th of December, 
from the Ashtabula bridge, amid the terrors and horrors of that carnival of death 
and destruction, without any premonition of the approach of the grim monster 
jn his most hideous mien, and whose physical forms disappeared from human 
view in that valley of death as completely as that of Moses did on Mount Nebo 
when the Lord buried him died in the Lord, and of them the " voice from 
heaven " is " heard saying unto me, write, blessed are the dead which die in the 
Lord ; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors ; and their 
works do follow them." 

Professor Bliss and his wife went to Rome^Bradford county, Pa., to spend 
the holidays, preparatory to entering with Major Whipple on the labors of suc 
ceeding the brethren Moody and Sankey in the tabernacle work in Chicago. 
Their last visit in Rome was passed not wholly in tarrying with their relatives 
and friends, but in assisting in a series of religious meetings during the last 
week of the year. The last night Professor Bliss was in Rome, which was Wed 
nesday night, December 27th, he sang a sacred song, the music of his own com- 


posing, and the words written by his wife, entitled " Hold Fast till I Come." As 
he was about to sing it, he remarked, " Here is a song I have never sung in pub 
lic, and I don't know as I shall ever sing it again." This song is the last one we 
have heard of his singing in the earthly assemblies of the saints. 

On Thursday morning, they left Rome. On Friday evening just before dark, 
Professor Bliss was seen by a passenger whose life was spared, sitting in a car 
by the side of his wife, with his open Bible on his knee, and both seemed intently 
engaged in the study of the Sacred Word, while he was composing a Bible song, 
which earth was never to hear. And this is the last we know of them in the 
body. The report that it was Professor Bliss who escaped from a burning car, 
and went back to rescue his wife, and perished with her, may be true ; it would 
be just like his tender, generous, manly nature ; but we do not know. 

The ill-fated train in which our friends had embarked, was made up of two 
express and two baggage cars, two day passenger cars, one drawing-room car, 
and four sleepers eleven cars in all drawn by two locomotives. As it was 
crossing the chasm spanned by the Ashtabula bridge, which was only about one- 
fourth the length of the train, the first locomotive had barely reached the farther 
abutment, when the bridge went down sixty feet, carrying with it the other 
locomoti-ve and the cars that followed it ; and then, oh, horror of horrors ! the 
other cars, with their heated stoves, and lighted candles, and precious freight of 
human lives and hopes, went leaping down one after another, one on the top of 
the other, crashing through each other, and as they leaped headlong into the 
chasm, the fiery stoves went sweeping through some of them from one end to 
the other, with their ponderous, blistering force, crushing, mangling, and burn 
ing the hapless inmates. And soon the bright light, shooting its red glare 
heavenwards, told the watchers at the station some of whom are with us 
to-night, who also had the blessed privilege of ministering there to the wants of 
numbers of the wounded the story that was hissing with tongues of flame in 
the ears of the pinioned prisoners in the deadly gorge below, that the fire fiend 
was completing the work of the wrecking fiend. 

What passed between our sunny -hearted friend and his noble wife in these 
moments freighted wilh the intensest terror that wreck, and frost, and storm, 
and fire can combine to produce, we know not. But we can imagine that what 
ever the number of moments they were compelled to await in that whirlwind of 
fire the summons home, they had grace to remember the song of their own they 
had sung two nights before : 

Oh, child, in thy anguish, despairing or dumb, 
Remember the message, Hold fast till I come ! 

And we can know that at whatever point before the completion of that great 
holocaust, their ransomed spirits left the mangled and charred bodies behind, 
they started singing : 

Where He may lead I'll follow, 

My trust in Him repose, 
And all the time in perfect peace, 

ni sing, u . He knows, He knows." 


Had we the power to follow and witness the effect of the announcement of 
the tragical earthly end of these two writers of sweet sacred song, as it traveled 
and is traveling over the round world, what varied scenes of sorrow and regret 
would we witness ! Here we see the brethren who have been his especial 
co-laborers, hasten to the scene of disaster as quickly as possible, in a vain 
anxiety to secure at least the bruised and mangled bodies of their dead friends 
for Christian burial. There we see the great tabernacle, with its vast assembly 
of eight thousand inside, and as many waiting outside in the cold in the vain 
hope of gaining entrance, filled and surrounded with mourners. Yonder we look 
upon the multitudes gathered at the home funeral service, where their last 
earthly ministrations were rendered. And on the Atlantic, and on the Pacific 
coast of America, and between, and over the waters to the east, and to the west, and 
the south, in Europe and Asia and Africa, the sad tidings bring regret and eulogy 
and grief to assembled thousands, and to solitary readers and hearers. The 
Christian songs that have belted the world with their melodies, have caused and 
will cause their writers to be mourned the world over. " Their works do follow 

And words of sorrow for the dead, and of gratitude to God for what His ser 
vant and handmaiden have done in the realm of song, have been spoken in 
multitudes of places by the great and the obscure. 

Mr. Williamson here continued as follows : 

My personal acquaintance with Professor and Mrs. Bliss began in 1865, one 
year after he came to Chicago. His musical convention work here was done, I 
have been informed, in 1869. He began his purely evangelistic work with Major 
Whittle at the beginning of 1874, and had grown greatly in spirituality and force 
of character, as well as in breadth and power of influence. It was our earnest 
endeavor to secure his services, with those of Brother Whittle, for the series of 
union meetings just closed, but God so ordered affairs that the closing labors of 
his life were employed elsewhere, and we were saved the severity of the shock, 
which otherwise would have fallen on us. 

Still God has come so near to us in this solemn providence, that it becomes 
every man, woman, and child who has heard the songs of this man and woman, 
to ask himself and herself, What good ought I to get, what good can I get from 
it to my immortal soul ? If there should be one here who has not sung or heard 
the Bliss hymns and music before to-night, it will well become even such an one to 
ask, What good use can I make of those I have just heard ? How much more 
should we do it, who have become so familiar with some of this music and have 
sung these Gospel Hymns so often ? 

A service in memory of Mr. Bliss was held at the House of Hope 
Church in St. Paul, Minnesota. There had been put upon the 
blackboard the words, " In memory of our brother Philip P. Bliss," 
and, the board being wreathed in evergreens and the evergreens 


sprinkled with white lilies, the whole formed a beautiful tablet. It 
was placed upon the wall behind the platform, and under it was a 
cushion of flowers and vines upon which it seemed to be resting. 

In commencing the sermon, the Superintendent, Mr. Cochran, 
read the hymn, both the words and the music of which Mr. Bliss 
wrote, " When Jesus Comes," saying that in no better way could his 
memory be honored than by singing heartily the hymns which he 
wrote to the praise of God. The congregation, composed of the reg 
ular attendants upon the Sabbath School and those who had come in 
to participate in the services, then read alternately with the Superin 
tendent the first eleven verses of 1 Thessaloiiians v., after which Mr. 
Charles H. Bigelow led in prayer. Then was sung the hymn, the 
words of which Mr. Bliss wrote to music furnished by another, " I 
know not the Hour when my Lord shall Come," after which Rev. 
Mr. Breed, the pastor of the church, addressed a few words " to the 
grown people present." He said he thought it was generally the 
case that the manner and circumstances of our death would generally 
be found in some measure to have been anticipated by the thoughts 
and works of our lives. He called attention to the fact that a mem 
ber of this very church and Sabbath School, whom no one would have 
thought to be anticipating sudden death, but to whom death had 
come almost unannounced, by terrible accident, had marked in his 
Bible two of the verses which had just been read. " But of the times 
and the seasons, my brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you." 
" For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh 
as a thief in the night." Those who had watched beside the death 
bed of that young man have testified that he met his death, sud 
denly as it came, calmly and with full faith in his Savior. 

So, in thinking of this sad death which came to our brother Bliss, and 
reading the hymns, could any one fail to be struck with their foreshadowing of 
the suddenness of his end. Those that have already been sung were examples 
of it, but perhaps the most striking, not only in its spiritual but physical 
aptness, was 

Through the valley of the shadow I must go 

Where the cold waves of Jordan roll, 
But the presence of my Savior will, I know, 

Be the staff and support to my soul. 

Literally, Mr. Bliss was called at death, to pass through a valley of the 
shadow, and literally the cold waves overwhelmed him upon that awful night. 


And yet why should he or any of us be astonished at the suddenness of death, 
for do we not " know perfectly," as the Apostle saith, " that the day of the 
Lord so cometh as a thief in the night ?" One remaining thought : the lesson to 
us of Mr. Bliss' life was to consecrate whatever talent God had given to us to 
His service. It was in his case a musical gift ; he had fully consecrated it, and 
perhaps more than any other writer of sacred music of the century, his name 
and memory would live and his music be the means of converting souls to 
Christ for years and years to come. 

After Mr. Breed had ceased speaking, Mr. Cochran said that 
what he had to say was to be addressed to the children present. He 
then reminded them how Major Whittle and Mr. Bliss when holding 
services in St. Paul had devoted part of their vacation day, Saturday, 
to holding a children's service ; how the last one had been held in 
this very church the last Saturday of their stay in St. Paul. He 
then described how two children, 5 and 7 years old, had remembered 
the text from which Mr. Bliss had spoken that morning, making the 
five words which composed it answer to the five fingers of his left 
hand while he pointed to them with his right, and thus fixing them 
in the minds of the children. The text was, " Daniel purposed in 
his heart ;" and after he had spoken from it he made a request of 
the children, and these same little children here in St. Paul had 
remembered this request, though it was made more than a year ago. It 
was that the children present should remember when they said their 
prayers at night to pray for Major Whittle and his (Mr. Bliss') little 
children, from whom they were so often and so long separated. The 
speaker felt sure that though Mr. Bliss' voice was forever silent in 
this world, yet if he could to-day speak from Heaven he would make 
exactly the same request, that the children of St. Paul and every 
where should pray for his little boys, who never again on earth 
would know a father's or mother's love, and the message he would 
deliver from heaven would be the same message he gave on that 
Saturday morning in this church, that all would imitate Daniel and 
accept Daniel's God in Jesus Christ. 

Another memorial service was held in St. Paul, of which the 
following letter gives an account : 

ST. PAUL. MINN., Jan. 31, 1877. 

MY DEAR BROTHER We had a memorial service in our little church (Day 
ton Avenue Presbyterian) which was to us very interesting. Mr. Bliss had 


endeared himself to us not only by his sweet songs, but our children had been 
to his children's meetings here in Saint Paul, and so nearly all of them knew him 
personally. During our memorial service a boy 13 years old (son of Senator M.) 
arose and said he wanted to bear testimony to Mr. Bliss' influence upon him. 
He stated, between sobs, that the singing of " I've Found the Pearl of Greatest 
Price " had been the means of leading him to the Savior. Other incidents were 
given showing how warmly our people felt toward him. We do not forget your 
labors here, and it may cheer you to know that none of the boys and girls 
belonging to our Sunday School who were converted at that time have gone 
back again to the world. A boys' prayer meeting was started soon after you 
went away, and has been maintained ever since. May God prosper you in all 
your labors. Very truly yours, L. A. GILBERT, 

Superintendent Dayton Avenue Sunday School. 

At Louisville, Kentucky, the death of Mr. Bliss caused the most 
profound sorrow. His evangelical labors there created for him a 
general regard, while among those with whom he came in personal 
contact, he was held in affectionate esteem. As one of the local 
papers expresses it, the great success achieved in that city " was, as 
far as a religious awakening is concerned, something that surpassed 
all precedent. The singing of Mr. Bliss tended strongly to popu 
larize the meetings, and his gospel songs are still used in many of 
our churches and Sunday Schools." 

A memorial service was held at the Chestnut Street Presbyterian 
Church. The attendance, notwithstanding the rain and snow that 
checkered the weather's general inclemency, was so large that the 
seating capacity of the church was wholly inadequate to accommo 
date the congregation. The aisles and every vacant space were filled 
with stools and chairs, and many remained standing until the close. 

After reading the parable of the fig tree (Luke xiii), the pastor, 
Eev. Mr. Simpson, proceeded to say that the words were peculiarly 
appropriate to the occasion for two reasons. In the first place, this 
was the fourth New Year's Sabbath he had spent among them as 
their pastor, and the words seemed to come with peculiar solemnity 
to all who had rejected his message: "These three years I come 
seeking fruit, and find none; cut it down;" while the interceding 
Savior pleaded once more, perhaps only once, " Let it alone this 
year also." 

The parable finally presented the touching picture of the great Intercessor 
standing between the sinner and his doom, and pleading one more year's delay. 
How solemn to reflect that He only asked one year, and even that was not 


assured ; and after that even Jesus promised to cease to plead for the hardened 
and impenitent. Having at some length expounded these thoughts, he pro 
ceeded to the second and principal part of his discourse in reference to the 
occasion as a memorial service. In the second place, he said, the parable had 
reference to two very sudden calamities that had occurred the slaughter of 
certain Jewish worshipers by Pilate, and the destruction of eighteen by tne 
falling of a tower in Siloam. 

How suitably its lessons connected themselves with the many appalling 
disasters which had lately shocked the public mind; and how tenderly these 
lessons were impressed by the sad memories of the terrible death they had met 
to-night to improve. If any might have claimed exemption from such a fate it 
was one whose usefulness seemed scarcely in its prime, and if he were not 
spared how could the careless and indifferent risk delay? 

Mr. Simpson then referred to Mr. Bliss' connection with the work 
in Louisville two years previously, and the loving recollections he had 
left behind him in hundreds of hearts. "The evangelists had always 
regarded it as the most cheering work of their lives, and hopes had 
been cherished of their return this winter. Their plans, however, 
had been made to spend the winter in Chicago, continuing the work 
Mr. Moody had begun, and then visit Europe in the summer, and 
begin the work in Great Britain." 

The speaker closed by an earnest appeal to all who hesitated to 
accept the Gospel, to begin at once to seek the Savior, whose greater 
love and more terrible sacrifice for them had been feebly shadowed 
forth in this sad calamity. Mr. Bliss had died to save a dear wife, 
and failed; Christ had died to save His enemies, and, as a living, 
loving, pleading Friend, stood now at every heart, crying, " Behold 
I stand at the door and knock ; if any man hear my voice and open 
the door, I will come in to him and sup with him, and he with me." 
The noblest tribute they could lay upon the grave of their dear 
friend was to know that even his death and its lessons had led a 
great multitude of the unsaved to the Master he loved so well. 

In response to this appeal, many persons rose in acknowledgment 
of their purpose to begin that night to seek the Savior, and after a 
solemn prayer for them, the service closed. 

The First Cumberland Presbyterian Church, in Nashville, Tenn., 
was crowded on the occasion of the Bliss memorial services, even the 
space in the rear of the seats being completely filled. The exercises 
opened by a portion of the choir singing u Almost Persuaded." 

Dr. Baird said that only a few years ago there was a new era in 


secular songs. People discovered that little children could sing, and 
from this sprang songs full of simplicity and truth, that were caught 
up and set the world on fire. He paid a touching tribute to Mr. 
Bliss, dwelling briefly on the striking simplicity of his character, his 
Christian earnestness and devotedness to the cause of Christ. The 
songs they would sing to-night were compositions of Mr. Bliss, 
in . some cases both the words and music. The next song they 
would sing was probably at this very moment ringing along the 
streets of London and Edinburgh, and throughout America. 

"I am so glad Jesus Loves Me" was then sung, and followed by a 
prayer from Eev. M. B. DeWitt, in which he alluded to the consecra 
tion on the altar of Christ, and the removal of the " Sweet Singer " 
and evangelist from his work in this world to take up his songs in 
Heaven. The song "Watching and Waiting" then followed. 

Mr. DeWitt made a few remarks, and was followed by Dr. Baird, 
who offered a series of resolutions, which were adopted by a rising 

Rev. A. J. Baird, pastor of the First Cumberland Church, sends us 
the following letter respecting the above meeting : 

NASHVILLE, TENN., Jan. 8, 1877. 

Last night was a memorable evening with us. We held a service of song 
in my church in memory of our dear Brother Bliss. Our service consisted of 
prayer, a few remarks by different persons, but chiefly singing. The choir, 
orchestra and congregation joining. Oh, it was so sweet to recall the holy 
memories of the meetings held by yourself and our lamented brother. Many 
were there who were brought to the Savior during those meetings. Our songs 
were : "Almost Persuaded," " Waiting and Watching," " Jesus Loves even Me," 
"Hallelujah, 'tis Done," "Free from the Law," "When Jesus Comes," "That 
will be Heaven for Me," " Hold the Fort." 

It is a joy to join with the friends in Chicago and elsewhere in cherishing the 
precious memory of our dear departed brother and sister. 

Pastor First Cumberland Presbyterian Church. 

A commemorative service in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Bliss was held 
in the Presbyterian Church at Kalamazoo, Michigan, under the 
auspices of the Young Men's Christian Association. The arrange 
ments for the meeting were in the hands of a committee of one from 
each of the co-operating churches. Abundant material for draping 


the church was loaned by several of the merchants. Mrs. Jas. 
Allen supplied the artificial flowers used, made the beautiful cross, 
crown and shield used in the decorations, and gave her aid, with 
Mrs. Frank Russell, Mrs. J. C. Burrows and Miss Smith, to the work 
of preparation. The skill and taste exhibited by these ladies be 
tokened how much they had the subject at heart. The drapery of 
black and white extended fully around the church on the galleries, 
and was beautifully arranged in folds. The platform was arranged 
in nearly the same manner as when it was occupied by the evangel 
ists, during their revival work in that city. An organ was placed 
upon it, with the motto Mr. Bliss had on his : u God so loved the 
world that he gave his Only begotten Son, that whosoever believe th 
in him should not Perish, but have Everlasting Life," forming an 
acrostic of the word " Gospel." The singer's chair was in the posi 
tion as when used by him, and appropriately draped. The chair 
Mrs. Bliss used was elevated so as to indicate to the audience the 
place occupied in the choir by her. It was also fitly draped. The 
drapery was centred over the pulpit, and drooped to the doors on 
either side ; and at the point of the draping over the center was a 
cross on a shield ; underneath it, in large capitals, the title of the 
last song Mr. Bliss sang while in Kalamazoo " "Waiting at the Beau 
tiful Gate." Over one door leading into the chapel was a superb 
cross; on the other, a crown. Everything betokened taste and in 
tense interest for the work. The choir held the same position as be 
fore, with the change of the organ to the center. The organ repre 
senting Mr. Bliss' was silent. Prof. C. J. Toof presided at the 
other, and Mr. W. F. Leavitt, who rendered Mr. Bliss effective aid 
during his period of service there, took direction of the choir. The 
ministers present, the members of the choir and the ushers wore 
suitable badges of mourning. 

Long before the hour of beginning the house began to fill rapidly. 
At the second ringing of the bell, it was tolled with thirty-eight 
measured strokes, that being the number of years of Prof. Bliss 5 
life. By this time the church was filled to overflowing, and many 
were standing about the doors. The exercises were opened by the 
singing of the hymn, " I know not the hour when my Lord shall 
Come." Rev. Mr. Sherwood pronounced a brief and feeling invo 
cation. *" The Home over There " was sung, and the fifth chapter 
of Revelation was read (containing the words, "And they sung a 


new song," etc.) by the Moderator of the meeting, Rev. Jos. H. 
France. A prayer was offered by Rev. Dr. Hodge. Mr. Leavitt sang 
as a solo, with great tenderness and clear expression, one of the favor 
ite songs of Mr. Bliss, " Oh, to be Nothing." The presiding officer 
then introduced the chief exercises of the evening with a short and 
earnest address, delivered with very earnest and effective feeling. 

Capt. Ford, from the Committee on Resolutions, prefaced the re 
port with an explanation that the Scripture used in the first sentence 
was the text of Rev. xiv, 3, taken in part as the basis of Hymn 44, in 
the Gospel Hymns, music by Prof. Bliss; that the reference to South 
Africa was called out by the reported singing of his hymns in the 
wilds of the Zulu country ; the first quotation of poetry was from 
the 86th of the Gospel Songs, the older book of Mr. Bliss, both words 
and music by him ; the text cited in the first resolution was the 
theme of Hymn 24, Gospel Hymns, words by Mrs. Bliss, music by 
her husband, from which the extract was made in the second reso 
lution; the extract in the fourth resolution was from the 41st 
of the Gospel Hymns, words and music by Bliss; and that in the 
fifth was from the 79th hymn, music also by Mr. Bliss. He then 
read the resolutions, as follows : 

Philip Paul Bliss and Lucy Bliss, his wife, have gone to sing, as it were, a new 
song before the throne that song which no man can learn but they which are 
redeemed from the earth. Their tragic death overshadows the whole Christian 
world. From the north of Scotland to the Zulu huts of South Africa, from the 
Far East to the Far West wherever their songs are sung, the poets and singers 
will be mourned. He, cut off in the prime of his splendid manhood, with all 
his great powers at their best ; she, worthy companion of his joys and toils have 
left time for eternity in the black gorge of death that opened at Ashtabula. At 
one dread plunge they went to make real the truth of his own sweet song : 

Through the valley of the shadow I must go, 

Where the cold waves of Jordan roll ; 
But the promise of my Shepherd will, I know, 

Be the rod and the staff to my souL 
Even now down the valley as I glide 

I can hear my Savior say, u Follow Me," 
And with Him I'm not afraid to cross the tide, 

There's a light in the valley for me. 

Like the singers of Nehemiah, Brother and Sister Bliss " kept the ward of 
their God." By the talents and abilities they consecrated to the Redeemer ; by 
their pure, strong, unselfish Christian character ; by the priceless service they 
have done and through the works they leave shall yet do in His cause among 


men, they have earned a memory which the world shall not willingly let die. 
Therefore, resolved : 

1. That the citizens of Kalamazoo and vicinity, so lately blessed by these sweet 
singers, do deeply mourn the bereavement of their families and friends, and the 
loss of their living presence from the fields of Christian usefulness ; doubting not, 
however, that they were " willing rather to be absent from the body and to be 
present with the Lord." 

2. That our deepest sympathies, in this hour of trial, go out to the widowed 
mother and sisters of the brother gone, to the parents of Mrs. Bliss, to the little 
ones thus orphaned, to all other relatives of the sainted dead, and to the great 
throng of friends who are bereft. May all remember that, 

For those who sleep 

And those who weep, 
Above the portals narrow, 

The mansions rise 
Beyond the skies, 

We're going home to-morrow. 

3. That the special and fraternal sympathies of this people be extended to 
the friend and Christian brother, the companion and co-laborer of the dear 
departed, Major D. W. Whittle, who loved them with a love like that of David 
for Jonathan, "passing the love of women ;" and we hope and pray that he 
may be upstayed by the Everlasting Arms, that the blow may be mercifully 
softened to him by the Divine Hand, and blessed to the strengthening of his 
heart and tongue for the great work that remains to him. 

4. That, while this visitation of Providence seems mysterious and dark, we 
humbly recognize that " He doeth all things well." 

No darkness have we who in Jesus abide, 

The Light of the World is Jesus ; 
We walk in the light when we follow our God, 

The Light of the World is Jesus. 

5. That the life and labors of the lamented dead shall be perpetual incen 
tives to the best work we can do for the Master. 

Sowing the seed with an aching heart, 
Sowing the seed while the tear-drops start, 
Sowing in hopr till the reapers come, 
Gladly to gather the harvest home. 
Oh, what shall the harvest be ? 

6. That the contributions of this community be respectfully solicited in aid 
of the Bliss Memorial Funds, now being raised. 

At the commemoration services at Peoria, Illinois, Centennial 
Hall was crowded and many failed to find seats. Eev. J. D. Wilson, 
of Christ Reformed Episcopal Church, opened the service by asking 
the choir to sing the hymn, "In the Christian's Home in Glory," 
after which Rev. W. B. Mcllvaine led in prayer. 


Eev. W. 0. Mappin then read, as the scripture lesson, selections 
from the 6th and 7th chapters of Revelation, and the choir sung, 
softly and beautifully, the song, " Go, Bury thy Sorrow/' and " When 
the Comforter Came," followed by a hymn that will always be dear 
to Peoria Christians, as it was written by Mr. Bliss in that city, viz. : 
" When Jesus Comes," beginning, 

Down life's dark vale we wander, 

Till Jesus comes ; 
We watch and wait and wonder, 

Till Jesus comes. 

Rev. John Weston, of Calvary Mission, was the first speaker. He 

We can almost see our departed brother as he sat and sang before us, but a 
few days ago, his whole heart in his song. He has gone home ; he was waiting 
and ready. What a gloom fell upon us last Sabbath, as the sad word came 
to us. So like the old prophet of old, he went home to heaven, not a vestige 
left of him on earth. Let a double portion of his spirit rest on us who are left. 
We ask why did God take His servant away so? It is not ours to tell, " God 
moves in a mysterious way." ,The time will come when we shall see the wis 
dom of God's dealings with us. His glory shall be seen after all. It says to 
us, " Be ye also ready." Out of the dark valley comes the voice to us, be faith 
ful and devoted to His service. Also a lesson to those who are not God's 
children. We would not bring our friends ba'ck. They sing the " New Song ' 
to-night ; but to you who have no such hope the warning comes, "Prepare to 
meet thy God." You have heard him sing ; let his sweet voice invite you to 
follow him to his home in heaven. 

Rev. Mr. Thompson, of the First Baptist Church, then spoke. 

Mr. Bliss was a man of tender sympathy. Knowing sorrow himself, he felt 
for others ; feeling tenderly himself the love of Christ, he desired all others to 
know the same. A man of eminent abilities, he was humble and trustful, and 
gave all glory to his God. How his face would glow as he sang "Hallelujah, 
what a Savior." How my own soul felt as he sang his thrilling songs. I am 
told wherever he went in domestic life he left the savor of his Savior behind 
a consecrated life. 

He is gone. We feel as if he was still needed with us. God can make his 1 
death more effective than his life. " He being dead, still speaketh." He speaks 
in song round the world to-night. It was said of Sampson "he slew more in 
his death than while living." How many may be brought to Jesus by what we 
call his untimely death. " He walked with God," and " he is not, for God took 
him." The Master has said, "Come up higher." One of his songs says, 
" We'll soon be at home over there ; " now he is there. Another, " I know not 
the hour," etc. He did not know the hour, but Jesus called and took him away 


in His own time, He knows "the song the angels sing" now. The last song 
our brother sung with us was the 22d, " We're Going Home To-morrow." 
Shall we meet them there when God calls us to meet all of those who have gone 

The 22d hymn was then sung with deep feeling by the entire au 

Eev. A. A. Stevens, of the First Congregational Church, next 
came forward and spoke tenderly and kindly of the dead singer: He 
spoke of the effect of his songs upon himself. " It seems as if we 
were just waiting for him to come in." He spoke specially of 
the songs, " Are your windows open toward Jerusalem ? " and " The 
half was Never Told." Now he knows the whole of the glories of 
heaven. It is a blessed thought that our brother loves us still as he 
did when here. How bright the prospect of our meeting dear friends 
again in the better world. How it strengthens us for our work. If 
any shall linger now to accept Christ, how can they when they re 
member his love and prayers so recently for them? We cannot see 
all the plan, but we " know all things work together for good to 
those that love God." 

Mr. Stevens spoke of the cheerfulness of Mr. Bliss always 
cheerful. " We don't sing enough," said he. Let us cherish him 
because he was so much like his Master. 

Eev. Mr. Wilson at this point led in an earnest prayer asking for 
all submission to the will of God. 

Hymn No. 13 was then sung 

I know not the hour when my Lord will come. 

Eev. Ira J. Chase, of the Christian Church, followed in some very 
appropriate remarks. He wondered what Mr. Bliss was doing when 
death came. He quoted Mr. Bliss' motto for 1876, " Be ye there 
fore steadfast," etc. It was his habit to select a text to be his motto 
for the year. Perhaps he was selecting his verse. Perhaps he was 
singing. At all events he was ready. I am glad those who have 
spoken have made it a practical matter with us all. What testimony 
will we leave behind us ? Why don't you all prepare for the future ? 
God calls to us. It is for each one to say, " Oh ! to be ' waiting and 
watching ' up there ! " 

Mr. Chase then read a tribute to the memory of the dead singer, 
written by some friend and given to him. 


Rev. Mr. Wilson spoke, and asked to have " Watching and Wait 
ing " sung, but those accustomed to sing would not venture to sing 
it. They could not, and No. 50 was taken in its place : " I will Guide 
Thee with Mine Eye." 

Rev. H. S. Beavis, of Grace Church, was then called upon, and 
said : " Silence might now be golden." He could not soon forget the 
pleadings of this departed brother as he plead with the youth of our 
city. His is one of the lives that speak to us and bid us make our 
lives sublime. It tells us of the record we are to make. It seems as 
if it were cut short in the very midst of fire and storm. Bliss met 
trials and storms and overcame them, and speaks to us to go forward. 
He added enthusiasm and untiring industry to his energy, and added 
to all consecration to the Master's work. He breathed it in his 
prayer ; he carried it in his life ; he sung it in his songs. Let us 
imitate him and make our lives beautiful, and leave behind us the 
fragrance of a consecrated life. 

Rev. Mr. Wilson followed in an earnest and tender reference to 
the dead. We would not bring them back he is happy now. There 
are some who might have come to Jesus if they could have heard 
another song. There is one hymn that has not been referred to 
to-night, " Hold the Fort." What joy the words " I am coming " 
brought to the beleaguered garrison at Allatoona ! 

" Hold the Fort " was then sung with feeling by the choir and 
entire congregation. After singing this hymn, Rev. Mr. Wilson 
asked Wm. Reynolds, Esq., to take charge of the meeting. 

A request was made for all who had found Christ during the 
meetings held here recently to rise. A large number arose. " Now," 
said the speaker, " who will join these and decide now ? While they 
sing a verse of Hymn 59, let them rise." Some arose, and Rev. Mr. 
Thompson led in prayer, asking that the death of those beloved ones 
might be the means of leading many to think of the awful future. 
After prayer, No. 15, " There is a Gate that Stands Ajar," was sung, 
and one of the saddest and most impressive meetings ever held in 
Peoria was closed. 

The following extract from a private letter from Peoria, written 
previous to the holding of the above meeting, and soon after the 
reception of the news of the Ashtabula disaster, will be read with 
interest : 


In every church in the city, yesterday, the sad tidings were told, and heart 
felt, loving, stirring words were spoken, while we all wept together. Mr. Rey 
nolds made most touching and thrilling mention in Sabbath School, asking those 
young people who had been brought to Christ through Mr. Bliss' meetings to 
rise. Over thirty arose to testify of what he had done for them. Oh ! how 
many precious souls will sparkle as gems in his crown ! 

We conclude this chapter and the volume with a few letters from 
Christian friends and co-workers. The first is from Rev. Dr. J. H. 
Brookes, of St. Louis : 

ST. Louis, Jan. 1, 1877. 

Since yesterday morning there has seemed to be a pall upon earth and 
sky. One of the Elders came to the study, just before the hour of preaching, 
and asked me if I had heard the sad news, and then told me with sobs that Bliss 
had been killed. The tidings stunned me, it was so unexpected, so impossible, 
my poor heart said. 

Mention was made of the heavy loss the church had sustained when we met 
for public worship, and the tears of many attested the strength of the hold 
our dear brother had taken upon the affections of the saints here. Again we 
met in the evening, and remained in prayer and meditation upon the word, and 
singing many of the sweet songs Mr. Bliss had composed, until the old year had 
gone away and the midnight hour announced that we were entering upon a new 
year. Many were the allusions to Bliss and his family, and to you also, stricken 
to the ground by this sudden and appalling blow. 

Oh, how my heart bled for you, as the thought of your loneliness and 
desolation of spirit and bitter disappointment occurred to me ; but it only led 
some at least no doubt many to bear you before the Lord in fervent supplica 
tion. Surely He is saying to you now, as never before, " Be still, and know that 
I am God," arid " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know here 
after." Yes, He will make this strange providence perfectly plain very soon, 
for, " Yet a little while and he that shall come will come, and will not tarry." 
It is the time, dear brother, for your faith to meet the deep darkness rolling over 
you with the cry, " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." 

A young man in his prayer, last night, referred to Bliss as having taught 
many of us to sing " Waiting and Watching," and now he is waiting and watch 
ing for the saints he had cheered on earth. Even so ; he is just on the other 
side of the river, waiting and watching for his companion in testimony and 
service. Let us more and more be waiting and watching for that blessed hope, 
when at our gathering together unto Jesus, we shall meet our beloved ones who 
sleep in Him. Oh, in the presence of such a sore affliction, how our hearts cry 
out, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" How pitifully little the world seems! 
How contemptible, self I How near, eternity 1 How bright and glorious the 
home toward which we are traveling 1 

These hurried words have been written as fast as my pen can move, just to 


let you know that some of God's dear children in St. Louis have fellowship in 
your sorrow, and are bearing you up in their hearts in prayer. The Lord will 
bless this terrible trial in drawing you nearer to Himself, and giving you more 
singleness of heart. 

In a common grief, but a common hope, too. 

Yours in Him, J. H BROOKES. 

MILWAUKEE, Jan. 18, 1877. 

I have thought much about you of late and especially since the death of our 
dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Biiss. We had had several very sad afflictions in 
our church, and this one of their so sudden departure, coming at the close of the 
year, made the year go out in gloom. I shall always remember the last months 
of 1876 as a time of abundant and almost overwhelming sorrow. How happily 
the year began for me, at least when we were working together in this hard 
field of Milwaukee. The work was a joy and it was a joy to see its results, though 
they were not such nor so large, seemingly, as we had wished. In God's sight 
they may have been far greater than the ones we had expected. In the first ter 
ror of the calamity of December 29, it was difficult to get near to the divine point 
of view. But we are doubtless now both calm in the view that the acts and the 
kingdom of our dear Father have all space and all eternity to interpret them. 
They are not to be judged by a single fearful night and a single dreadful ravine. 
The flesh shrinks from the thought of the bruised and mangled frames of those 
so loved, but the spirit of faith remembers One who was more bruised for our ini 
quities. And that God can use, in some mysterious way, the bruising of the 
body for the healing of souls, the great example of the wounded Saviour teaches 
us. It seems terrible to the shrinking flesh to think of dying by fire, but God 
has brought some of the richest blessings to His church through fire. God's be 
loved Zion owes much discipline of purifying and exaltation to this element of 
fire. It is the great law of the Lord, expressed most astonishingly upon Calvary, 
that the world shall be saved with suffering. 

Thus the crushed and "broken frame 

Oft doth sweetest graces yield, 
And this suffering, toil and shame, 

Prom the martyr's keenest flame, 
Heavenly incense is distilled. 

The converts of last winter stand well ; we are having some more continually, 
and I am hopeful of good results in the Sunday Schools. I wish I might have an 
afternoon's quiet talk with you. Do you never long for some quiet ? I do, and 
think it necessary to the highest life of the soul. 

With love, 


He Knows. 

P. P. B. 



1. I know not what awaits me, God kind - ly veils mine eyes, 

2. One step I see before me, 'Tis all I need to see, 

_ -, . &*** 

w 0- 


S K N i 


And o'er each step of my onward way He makes new scenes to rise; 
The light of heav'n more brightly shines, When earth's illusions flee; 



^7- *~9 9 9 


And ev - Yy joy He sends me comes A sweet and glad sur- prise. 
And sweet-ly thro 1 the si-lence comes His lov - ing "Fol - low Me." 

' "' 



^--f'-j : Sri 


Where He may lead I'll fol - low, My trust in Him re - pose; 


Copyrighted, 1877, by J. CHURCH & Co. 


He Enows-'-Wndii, 

i N j 

And ev - 'ry hour in per-fect peace I'll sing, He knows, He knows, 




r f > i 

And ev - 'ry Lour in per-fect peace I'll sing, He knows, He knows. 


3. blissful lack of wisdom, 

'Tis blessed not to know; 
He holds me with His own right hand, 

And will not let me go, 
And lulls my troubled soul to rest 

In Him who loves me so 

4. So on I go, not knowing, 

I would, not if I might; 
I'd rather walk in the dark with God 

Than go alone in the light; 
I'd rather walk by faith with Him 

Than go alone by sight. 








477 PAGES. POST-PAID, $2.00. 

" The narrative is personal, involving the experiences both of the 
author and of those with whom he had to do. It presents the 
memories and heart yearnings of a veteran pastor with a passion 
for saving souls." 


A wonderful volume it truly is. To read it, stirs the soul like a trumpet. 
This country has seen but one Charles G. Finney. 

The most remarkable feature of this extraordinary book is the supernatural 
element. Finney lived, preached, and labored as if the Spirit of the "Most High 
dwelt in him and spoke through him. Certainly mighty works were wrought by 
Ms trenchant voice ; and many who " heard it, said that it thundered." Some of 
the foremost Christian laymen in the Empire State were converted under his 
ministry. He probably led more souls to Jesus than any man of this century. 


I have read it with the greatest interest, and am impatient for leisure enough to 
read it again. What a fiery John the Baptist he was in his earlier ministry ! What 
a marvelous movement that to which he gave an impulse, so mighty and BO wide ! 


I congratulate you on publishing, in Dr. Finney's biography, the most fascinat 
ing religious biography that I ever read. It is as dramatic, as full of surprises, 
almost as marvelous in its manifestation of divine power, as the Book of Acts. It 
ia coming out at just the right time. 

A. S. BARNES & COMPANY, Publishers. 





Book Slip-25-6,'66(G3855s4)458 

N9 512361 


Memoirs of B55 

Philip P. Bliss. W5