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One afternoon, in the autumn of 1867, he called me to him and said,

"These interviews have been very pleasant to me, but they will soon be over; I am going to be forever with the Lord; and I will await you on the bank of the river."

I was greatly moved by his words, and cried,

"Oh, must I lose a friendship that I have enjoyed so much?"

"No," replied he, "take up my life-work where I lay it down; and you will not indeed lose a friendship, though I am going away from you, but rather strengthen it by Striving to carry out my own ideals."

At a cloudless sunset, January the seventh, 1868, Mr. Bradbury passed away. The children always loved him dearly; and on the day of his funeral they brought a wreath of oak leaves and laid it tenderly upon his casket. To me the sad occasion was the more memorable because the first hymn that we wrote together was sung during the service; but the lines of my own production brought comfort to my aching heart, when I realized what a friend had passed to his reward, and that he had gone to that country

"Where the fields are robed in beauty,
And the sunlight never dies."

I met Theodore E. Perkins in June, 1864, and also Philip Phillips about the same time. The first hymn that I wrote for Mr. Perkins was:

"I know thou art praying tonight, mother,
I know thou art praying for me."

Mr. Bradbury introduced me to Philip Phillips at the store; he had come from Cincinnati; and already knew me somewhat by reputation. As they were going through the store, Mr. Phillips said, laughingly, "Fanny, I wish you would write me a hymn, and have it ready when we return." "This is Mr. Bradbury's time," said I, "and will you ask his permission?" Mr. Bradbury said,

"Oh, Fanny, that is all right." So I wrote three or four stanzas while they were gone; Mr. Phillips liked them very much; and from that time often called on me for hymns to use in his evangelistic meetings.

In 1866 Mr. Phillips published a collection of hymns called the "Singing Pilgrim"; and while he was preparing that book he sent me forty titles to which I composed words and not a single poem was written by my amanuen-sis until the whole number was completed. They were then forwarded to Mr. Phillips at Cincinnati; he again sent me a long list of titles and they were treated exactly as the first forty had been. This incident is not told to commend myself, but merely to illustrate to what extent memory will serve us, it we only give memory a fair chance. The mind appears to me like a great storehouse into which we place various articles for safe keeping and sometimes even forget that they are there, but, sooner or later, we find them; and so I lay aside my intellectual wares for some future day of need; and in the mean time often forget them, until the call comes for a hymn.

Shortly after the death of Mr. Bradbury the firm of Biglow and Main was organized. Of Sylvester Main I have already spoken and told the story of our meeting thirty-five years after we had known each other in Ridgefield. From his sixteenth year he had been a singing teacher and a well known chorister in Norfolk Street Methodist Church in New York City. Two years, or more, previous to my meeting with him at the office of Mr. Bradbury, he had been associated in the publishing business, and he continued as a member of the firm until his lamented death in 1873; and I always found him a faithful counsellor and a friend whose memory I highly prize. His last words were,

"The dear Lord is about to give me rest. If you love me, do not weep, but rejoice." These words of cheer, coming as the parting message of one whom I had loved, in after years proved a source of inspiration and comfort in many an hour of depression; and the words of one of my own hymns, for which his son, Hubert P. Main, wrote beautiful music often recall sweet memories of him, and many other friends, who await me in the Better Land:

"On the banks beyond the river
We shall meet no more to sever,
In the bright, the bright forever,
In the Summerland of song."

L.H. Biglow, the senior member of the firm, continued the publishing business after the death of Mr. Main. For thirty years we were constantly associated together, and during this time not the slightest misunderstanding arose between us, so that, although not now connected with the firm, he still remains my trusted friend as in the days when we more frequently met. Hubert P. Main I have known since 1860, and he has always been of valuable service to me in criticising my work, for which his knowledge of hymns, both ancient and modern, has well fitted him. His musical library has been the scene of many pleasant talks concerning the writing of hymns and their accompanying melodies. For many years he has been the accomplished compiler for the Biglow and Main Company, and he has set to music some of my best hymns, including such favorites as "The Bright Forever," "Hold Thou my Hand," "Blessed Homeland," "The Blessed Rock," "Yes, There's Pardon For You," and many others.