Tell me the story simply As to a little child, For I am weak and weary, And helpless and defiled. * * * * * Tell me the story simply That I may take it in-- That wonderful Redemption, God's remedy for sin. _THE TUNE._ Dr. W.H. Doane was present at the International Conference of the Y.M.C.A. at Montreal in 1867, and heard the poem read--with tears and in a broken voice--by the veteran Major-General Russell. It impressed him so much that he borrowed and copied it, and subsequently set it to music during a vacation in the White Mountains. The poem of fifty stanzas was entitled "The Story Wanted;" the sequel or answer to it, by Miss Hankey, was named "The Story Told." This second hymn, of the same metre but different accent, was supplied with a tune by William Gustavus Fischer. I love to tell the story Of unseen things above, Of Jesus and His glory, Of Jesus and His love. * * * * * I love to tell the story Because I know its true; It satisfies my longings As nothing else can do. CHORUS. I love to tell the story; 'Twill be my theme in glory; To tell the old, old story Of Jesus and his love. William Gustavus Fischer was born in Baltimore, Md., Oct. 14, 1835. He was a piano-dealer in the firm (formerly) of Gould and Fischer. His melody to the above hymn was written in 1869, and was harmonized the next year by Hubert P. Main. THE PRODIGAL CHILD. This is not only an impressive hymn as sung in sympathetic music, but a touching poem. Come home! come home! You are weary at heart, For the way has been dark And so lonely and wild-- O prodigal child, Come home! Come home! Come home! For we watch and we wait, And we stand at the gate While the shadows are piled; O prodigal child, Come home! The author is Mrs. Ellen M.H. Gates, known to the English speaking world by her famous poem, "Your Mission." _THE TUNE_ To "The Prodigal Child" was composed by Dr. Doane in 1869 and no hymn ever had a fitter singing ally. All a mother's yearning is in the refrain and cadence. Come home! Oh, come home! "LET THE LOWER LIGHTS BE BURNING!" An illustration, recited in Mr. Moody's graphic fashion in one of his discourses, suggested this hymn to P.P. Bliss. "A stormy night on Lake Erie, and the sky pitch dark." 'Pilot, are you sure this is Cleveland? There's only one light.' 'Quite sure, Cap'n.' 'Where are the lower lights?' 'Gone out, sir.' 'Can you run in?' '_We've got to_, Cap'n--or die.' "The brave old pilot did his best, but, alas, he missed the channel. The boat was wrecked, with a loss of many lives. The lower lights had gone out. "Brethren, the Master will take care of the great Lighthouse. It is our work to keep the lower lights burning!"