The people were everywhere in motion. Some were coming in, some were standing near the doors, some were talking in low voices in the rear of the deep gallery, and many were arranging for their wraps or hats, while all, in the freedom of the social atmosphere ever prevailing there, were smilingly nodding to acquaintances or searching for hymn books. The opening chorus of the Children's Church, at their regular service, in the lower hall, could be indistinctly heard. The painful and awkward silence which embarrasses and chills the incoming worshiper in some churches was altogether absent that morning. The preacher began to read the hymn without waiting for silence or attention. He simply remarked, "Let us sincerely and intelligently use this old hymn for our opening prayer." The congregation arose while the organist played a sweet, tender prelude, giving the impression that the organ itself was praying. A fair-haired child, kneeling in a snow-white night robe, lisping its evening prayer, was suggested to hundreds by the worshipful music. The well-trained religious chorus began to sing with devotion and unity and opened the prayer with the harmonious call, "Father!" The congregation instinctively raised their eyes toward heaven. Then all came strongly into the hymn with the petition: "Father, whate'er of earthly bliss Thy sovereign will denies, Accepted at thy throne of grace, Let this petition rise: "Give me a calm, a thankful heart, From every murmur free; The blessings of thy grace impart, And make me live to thee." There was a single strain of an interlude and then the solemn prayer was entered upon with an unction and appreciation that thrilled every soul in the great audience: "Let the sweet hope that thou art mine My life and death attend, Thy presence through my journey shine, _And crown my journey's end_." Then came a pause, and with a magnificent volume of sound the emphatic "Amen!" confirmed the earnestness of the prayer. That was a real prayer! The holiness of the spirit of worship had taken possession of the whole congregation. All were interested in the reading of the Bible, and when the notices were being read a most saintly old deacon sent up a slip of paper to the preacher on which were written these words--"Pastor, please give us another prayer for the next hymn!" The pastor read the note to the people without comment, and looked over the hymn book for another prayer, when his eyes fell on the following hymn: JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow thee; Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, Thou, from hence, my all shalt be: Perish every fond ambition, All I've sought, and hop'd, and known; Yet how rich is my condition, God and heav'n are still my own!