The charred fragment of a hymn-book leaf hangs in a frame on the auditorium wall of the "New England Church," Chicago. The former edifice of that church, all the homes of its resident members, and all their business offices except one, were destroyed in the great fire. In the ruins of their sanctuary the only scrap of paper found on which there was a legible word was this bit of a hymn-book leaf with the two first stanzas of Montgomery's hymn, Daughter of Zion, from the dust, Exalt thy fallen head; Again in thy Redeemer trust, He calls thee from the dead. Awake, awake! put on thy strength, Thy beautiful array; The day of freedom dawns at length, The Lord's appointed day. The third verse was not long in coming to every mind-- Rebuild thy walls! thy bounds enlarge! --and even without that added word the impoverished congregation evidently enough had received a message from heaven. They took heart of grace, overcame all difficulties, and in good time replaced their ruined Sabbath-home with the noble house in which they worship today.[46] [Footnote 46: The story is told by Rev. William E. Barton D.D. of Oak Park, Ill.] If the "New England Church" of Chicago did not sing this hymn at the dedication of their new temple it was for some other reason than lack of gratitude--not to say reverence. _THE SABBATH_. The very essence of all song-worship pitched on this key-note is the ringing hymn of Watts-- Sweet is the day of sacred rest, No mortal cares disturb my breast, etc. --but it has vanished from the hymnals with its tune. Is it because profane people or thoughtless youth made a travesty of the two next lines-- O may my heart in tune be found Like David's harp of solemn sound? _THE TUNE._ Old "Portland" by Abraham Maxim, a fugue tune in F major of the canon style, expressed all the joy that a choir could put into music, though with more sound than skill. The choral is a relic among relics now, but it is a favorite one. "Sweet is the Light of Sabbath Eve" by Edmeston; Stennett's "Another Six Days' Work is Done," sung to "Spohr," the joint tune of Louis Spohr and J.E. Gould; and Doddridge's "Thine Earthly Sabbath, Lord, We Love" retain a feeble hold among some congregations. And Hayward's "Welcome Delightful Morn," to the impossible tune of "Lischer," survived unaccountably long in spite of its handicap. But special Sabbath hymns are out of fashion, those classed under that title taking an incidental place under the general head of "Worship." _COMMUNION._ "BREAD OF HEAVEN, ON THEE WE FEED." This hymn of Josiah Conder, copying the physical metaphors of the 6th of John, is still occasionally used at the Lord's Supper. Vine of Heaven, Thy blood supplies This blest cup of sacrifice, Lord, Thy wounds our healing give, To Thy Cross we look and live.