Rev. William Bliss received the mantle of the ascending Elijah. Mr. Bliss, in his early life, was much inclined to deism, but when about thirty years of age, he became truly serious, and finally he was happily converted, and united in communion with the church. Soon after his public profession of religion, he became exercised on the subject of the ministry. He had frequently improved his gift for speaking, in the prayer and conference meetings; and he received a public call of the church in 1773. In 1780, he was installed pastor of the church, in which station he continued during the remainder of his life, which was about twenty-eight years. Mr. Bliss was a warm and steady friend of his country, and suffered much by the English soldiery, during the Revolutionary war, being completely in their power while the city of Newport remained in their possession. They took possession of a part of his farm, on which they erected forts, and a part of his dwelling, in which were quartered many of their officers. They also cut down his orchards to barricade the roads, and committed many depredations of a similar character. Mr. Bliss was the father of a large family, and some very interesting circumstances are related of one of his daughters. This young lady, when about sixteen years of age, had a long and painful sickness, in which time she became hopefully converted; and God was pleased to recommend himself to her in a remarkable manner. During her illness, at a time when she was very low, she lay for a long time as one asleep, without sense or motion. Her attendants looked upon her as dying; but presently she revived, and was in the greatest transports of joy. She declared to them that she had been favoured with a view of another world, and had been conducted both to the mansions of misery, and the abodes of felicity; and that in both places she saw and recognised those with whom she had been acquainted, and were then dead, but that she was forbidden to tell them who were in misery; that she had water given her to drink, which was inexpressibly sweet,—that she was told that she would not recover from her sickness, but must return for a season, and then that she should be admitted back to stay for ever. She lived about a year after this, during which time she looked forward with the greatest pleasure to the time of her departure, and died in full confidence that she should be immediately reconducted to those scenes of felicity with which she had been made acquainted.