I was on a long journey by train, and for much of the time had the coach to myself. Towards evening, at a roadside station, a workman entered, bringing his bag of tools. His day's toil was over, and, as he settled himself in his seat, soon he began to whistle. Some might think it rude for him to do so but he did not intend any rudeness.
Presently I perceived that he was whistling a sacred melody. During a momentary pause, I said, "Friend, I think I know that tune. I hope you enjoy the hymn that it belongs to."
"Thank God, I do, sir," was the reply. Then, with some emotion in his voice, he added, "And when I can't sing the words, I like to whistle the tune and think the words. It does me good, and cheers me up a bit! It's so true, sir, indeed it is! For it is well with my soul."
"When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea-billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou halt taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul."