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A little child, between four and five years of age, on retiring knelt down to say her evening prayer and was beard to say,

"Dear Jesus, I thank you for being punished instead of me." She had heard her mother talking of Jesus taking our place. This incident inspired the hymn, "Instead of Me."

"Good news from the gospel is sounding today;
I haste to receive it, how can I delay?
It tells me from bondage my soul may be free,
Through Jesus who suffered instead of me."

When informed of the death of a dear friend of Mrs. Currier's and mine we sat down and wept together, and these words flowed from my heart,

"Only a little while pilgrims below,
Then to our Fatherland home we shall go."

When I repeated the hymn to Mrs. Currier, she im-mediately sang it to the music coming from her heart as the words did from mine. Both words and melody were written in less than half an hour.

After Mrs. Currier's consecration she was engaged to sing for six months in religious meetings in New York City; and in making the engagement had told them that she only sang gospel songs. They said that was enough, but on one occasion they asked her to sing at a certain large meeting something on the secular order, and when she reminded them of the agreement they asked her to stretch her conscience a little and think of it over night.

She prayed for guidance and in the morning on taking out some music that had been packed away the first piece that struck her eye was "I Cannot Sing the Old Songs." She told me of the circumstance, and asked me to write a hymn telling why she could not sing the old songs. The result was "A New Song":

"I cannot sing the old songs,
For me their charm is o'er,
My earthly harp is laid aside,
I wake its chords no more.
The precious blood of Christ my Lord,
Has cleansed and made me free;
And taught my heart a new song,
Of His great love to me."

During a series of meetings in Baltimore one evening Dr. Gilman of Johns Hopkins University called to ask Mrs. Currier to sing at a service where workers of many denominations and creeds were assembled. There were Jews, Romanists, and different Protestant churches represented. She was asked for a hymn that would bring all closer together in brotherly love, and spur them on to greater work. No hymn could be found that fitted the case exactly, at least none in which so many creeds could join; and so at her request was written "Let Him be All in All."

"From North to South, from East to West,
Before our God above,
We meet to join our hearts and bands
In one great work of love.

"Then let us in our Father's name,
With holy reverence call,
Forgetting creed, forgetting self,
Let Him be 'all in all'."

A very dear friend, having passed through many severe trials, persecutions and sorrows, came to me and telling me of them said,

"God has led me all the way and has given me 'songs in the night.'" With the incident still fresh in my mind I wrote the hymn entitled, "God Leadeth:"

"In paths that His wisdom and goodness prepare,
God leadeth His children along;
For He is our keeper and safe in His care,
God leadeth His children along;
Some through the water, some through the flame,
Some through deep sorrow, but praised be His name,
Where'er He leadeth, He giveth a song,
In the night season, and all the day long."

"I See the Light" has a beautiful history. A Boston harbor pilot, as he lay dying, looked up and said to those who watched by his bedside,

"I see the light." Supposing that he was dreaming of familiar lights in the harbor, they asked,

"What light? Boston Light?"

"No" he replied.

"Highland Light?"

"No."

"Minot Light?" The old pilot answered,

"I see the Light of Glory, now let the anchor go." With these words his spirit passed over the bar, as his vessel had passed across the harbor-bar so many times, and there was no moaning for him since his spirit was at rest.

"I see the Light, 'tis coming,
It breaks upon my soul;
It streams above the tempest,
And ocean waves that roll.

"From skies with clouds o'er shadowed,
The mist dissolves away,
I see the Light that leadeth,
To everlasting day.

"With joy no words can utter,
My heart is all aglow,
I see the Light of Glory,
Now let the anchor go."

Among the many interesting letters, received of late, I select two or three that bear more directly upon the story of my life. From England during an evangelistic tour in the summer of 1900, Mr. Sankey wrote:

"Dear Fanny:

"You are not forgotten and your name is often mentioned in connection with 'Saved by Grace' in my services. We are keeping well and are just starting for Leeds, York, Sunderland, Berwick, Newcastle and Edin-burgh, where large halls have been taken for our meetings.

I quoted your beautiful lines of poetry recently in Bir-mingham:

'Oh, for an angel's harp to tell
How much I love Thee and how well!'

They are fine and some of our mutual friends have written them down in their Bibles. I hope you are still as bright as a dollar, as you say."

"Sincerely yours.
"Ira D. Sankey."